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Nick
The driedblood on the kitchen floor blurred in front of me.
I stood there, with the bucket at my feet and the damp rag in my hand, and I just couldn’t fucking move. I stared at it like an idiot with the same fucking words resounding in my head.Dad’s dead…dad’s dead…dad’s—
Thump.
The sound of a car door outside made me flinch. I shifted my focus to the door behind me. But I'd know the heavy sound of Tobias’s steps anywhere, even when he was limping.
I didn’t turn around when the rattle of keys came, just stood there pinned to the floor by that fucking stain. Tobias stepped in and closed the door behind him. I doubted he even noticed me, I stood that fucking still.
He just walked in with his head down, then noticed I was there. His head snapped up and he stopped moving. One slow turn of his head and he followed my focus to the floor, then muttered. “I’m gonna take a shower.”
I winced at his cold tone, hating how all I wanted to do was meet that dark, savage stare and ask him what the fuck had happened? Was it an accident? Did the gun just fuckinggo off?The memory of that moment pushed in. The glint of steel still in his hand, one that’d been aimed at our father. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t push the memory away.
I wanted to ask him what he'd done…
No, I wanted to demand to know why the fuck he'd done that.
Why, T?
Why kill him…
But I didn’t. Instead, I said nothing as he tossed a set of keys on the counter and limped down the hall. He shoved a hand out as he went, bracing against the wall. I lowered my gaze to the black jeans stuck hard against his thigh. He was hurt…I knew that. Bad, too.
Still, the stubborn bastard refused to ask for help. He just dragged his t-shirt over his head, drawing my focus to the scratches that marred his back. But it wasn’t the cuts that made me wince, it was the already darkening bruise across the entire half of his back.
Jesus.
Jesus…
Bang!
I jumped at the slam of the bathroom door. Seconds later, the howl of the water pipes came. What happened…what the fuck went down?I was desperate to know. Still, knowing wouldn’t change the outcome.
I turned back to that stain on the kitchen floor. One that’d long since dried. I took a step, sank to my knees, and set to work scrubbing, but all the time the question resounded…
What are we going to do?
What the fuck are we going to do…
I tried to come up with a plan, one that wouldn’t get us killed, then rinsed the cloth in the bucket before turning back. The constant motion of the rag on the floor lulled me into thoughts of her.
The last thoughts I had of our sister as she raced toward The Order in an attempt to save one of our own. “Goddamn you, Caleb. We should’ve stayed together, you fucking idiot.We should’ve stayed the fuck together.”
I searched the floor for any trace of blood before I wiped the cupboard our father had leaned on and slowly realized the bathroom was silent…and had been for some time.
Water dripped from my hand when I rose. I dumped the contents of the bucket down the sink before scrubbing that with bleach and stowed the chemicals away. But my focus was pulled toward that hallway. Where it was quiet.Too damn quiet.
Something was wrong.
That thought forced me forward, leaving the kitchen behind until I stood outside the bathroom, right across from the bedroom where Ryth had been. I dragged in the air, catching the faint scent of vanilla. Fuck. The place still smelled like her.
That wasn’t good—my pulse sped—no,that wasn’t good at all. Focus.Fucking focus, Nick.
“T,” I said, my voice husky.
But there was no answer. I stepped closer to the bathroom door. “T,” I called louder.
