Page 104 of Veiled in Brick

“Shit, it was his blood,” Luke stated in an exhale. “Claire cleaned up any evidence that he was here—”

“There’s still some on the knife,” Claire noted, pointing to the floor where it laid alongside the one that Liam had grabbed. “If we call the police, we could show them that as evidence—”

“Evidence that she stabbed him,” Liam interjected. “What good’s that gonna do to bring it to the cops? Let them know that Zoey cut a guy and he ran off? The rest is all just our word.”

“It was self-defense,” Claire retorted. “We call them, they come here and we can give them the knife, they can…I don’t know, test the DNA from the blood?”

“Yes.” Luke nodded emphatically. “That.”

“I don’t want the cops here,” I said. “I—I don’t want my parents dragged into all of this—”

“Zoey, he broke into their house,” Claire spoke.

“It doesn’t look like anything even happened here,” I argued. “My parents didn’t even wake up, and they’re probably not going to since they run a white noise machine in their room while they sleep. We can call the cops in Salem from the car—the gears of justice crank slowly, yes? They already have the open case on the guy, it’d be better to talk to them, anyway. We can ask them what to do with the knife.”

“Your parents won’t notice a missing knife?” Claire questioned. “They won’t question that?”

“I doubt it,” I replied. “Even if they do, it would just be a random, fleeting thought…the kitchen’s big. They’ll think it got misplaced when we did the dishes.”

Liam spoke up, “Bringing a bloody knife to the cops feels like a bad idea.”

“Then what?” Claire asked, “We clean it and leave it here?”

“Cleaning it is just as bad as cleaning up the blood off the floor,” Luke stated. “That leaves us with nothing.”

“That leaves us with nothing that can be held against Zoey,” Liam pressed his point once again. “If it looked like he forced his way in here…if we had more proof that he attacked her other than our word, then yeah. We could bring it to the cops or they could come here, but this? This looks…”

Liam seemed to be struggling to find the correct description, and his words weighed on me heavily.

I finished for him, “Incriminating, yeah…okay. Clean it and leave it here.”

Liam nodded solemnly, everyone sighed audibly in a silent but begrudging agreement, and we stared at each other for a beat of silence.

Liam muttered, “All this aside, the guy’s out there somewhere.”

The intensity in which he said it held an undercurrent of anger that was so apparent, Luke took half a step backward.

“I gathered that,” Luke stated slowly.

My teeth clenched together at his reply, and I blurted out, “I don’t want to be here.” All heads turned to me. “I can’t be here anymore.” Liam’s face twisted sympathetically at the strained tone of my voice, and he reached a hand out to touch my arm in a comforting gesture. The action made tears well in my eyes, and I rapidly blinked to ward them away. I told Liam, “I just want to go home.”

“Zo’,” he returned consolingly, squeezing my arm where his hand rested, “he may not be that far. I’m with you on leaving the house. If we stay, he’ll be back, and your parents…” His words drifted off, he shook his head, and then he continued, “But if we go all the way back to Salem…I won’t know where to look. I won’t know where to find him—”

Luke interjected, “What are you planning on doing?” Liam shot him a dark look, and Luke’s eyebrows raised as he said, “Okay, I need you to say the words, Liam.”

Liam murmured, “He’s not going to stop, Luke.”

Luke shook his head. “Just say the fuckin’ words, man.”

He exhaled. “I want him dead.”

Claire gasped, exclaiming in a whisper, “Liam!”

Luke’s expression twisted into a grimace. “We aren’t hitmen, Liam, what the fuck?”

“How the fuck else are we gonna stop him, huh?” Liam asked them both.

Luke placed his hands on his hips. “With exactly what’s already in motion. We talk to the cops—”

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