Page 244 of Chaos Kills

I locate Cairo’s eyes, which hold more color than Ozzy’s pitch-black ones. The shade they turn when my cousin is ready to kill someone. “Get someone else. I’m not going.”

Not when shit has officially hit the fan.

He glowers at me and utters under his breath, “Motherfucker.”

FIFTY-FIVE

ozzy

My bodyand brain won’t stop the sprinting motion of what I think is worry.

I know Torin can’t get to her faster than I can. But it still doesn’t stop the frantic beats in my chest and the sweat forming at the back of my neck like glue.

He tried to kill her.

I run through the last few weeks, trying to land on the time frame when he would’ve done it. Why I didn’t notice that something was possibly off with her. How I didn’t sense it or see it.

Where was I?

Why wasn’t I there?

I failed her.

I’m past upset that she never mentioned anything—not that she ever would, I know this. She’s not like anyone I’ve ever met before. Easy to rat someone out, expressing her emotions like Vivian always seems to do.

She’s strong.

Too strong.

Too infuriatingly independent and I like that about her.

But not with this.

When I arrive at her house, only the light in the living room is on. I use my key to get inside, attempting to be as quiet as I can as I trek through the stillness of the house and notice everyone is in bed.

It’s well after midnight and it’s normally what people do. I prefer the night and working when the sun doesn’t work against me.

There are more places to hide.

I find her bedroom door closed and, as steadily as I can, twist it open. The luminosity that keeps me in full view fills her room, and I find Bay sitting up in her bed as if she’s waiting on me.

With her shotgun lined up on my chest.

“You need to stop doing that.”

Her voice is soft and velvety, and I like it.

Not like the first night we met where she was ready to blow me away and would’ve had zero qualms about it.

I wasn’t scared then.

I’m not scared now.

If Bay would’ve shot me, I would’ve happily died by her hand.

Still would.

Her blue eyes—a shade lighter than mine—stare at me, and I’m sure, she’s waiting for a comeback, but as always, I have nothing.

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