Page 28 of Fatally Yours
“Did you sleep?” I asked as I slid out from beneath him. He shook his head.
“I don’t need to, but lying with you was just as nice.” A strange guilt was creeping up my spine. Thinking about him there with me all night while I selfishly did something unnecessary didn’t sit right with me, even if it wasnormal.
“Oh…”
Sitting up, he reached across and placed his palm on my cheek. “Don’t worry about it, Tash. You know I love spending time with you, even if you’re sleeping,” he said. “But once it starts getting dark, we’ll have to leave, alright?” I nodded. I knew we would need to go. This was a crime scene that we severely contaminated. Mandy had shown me enough of her shows for me to have a basic knowledge of how this stuff worked.
Once they discovered I was missing, and if they did a thorough investigation, they would be very,veryconfused. There was no way they could ever put together the real story, which meant I was deemed to be missing until they found my body. Until they foundme.
August leaned forward and grabbed the remote, ignoring the partial blade on the table. I was sure he knew what it was and what it represented. He turned on the TV as I glanced at the clock, not realizing how late in the day it was. We had been here for far too long, and I knew it was going to get dark soon. Then, we would move on to whatever was next. He always had a plan.
We spent the next few hours curled up on the couch in mostly silence, pretending it was just another evening enjoying each other’s company. Not one where we both suffered gruesome deaths and were back from the dead. I neglected to look at the bedroom door the entire time, not wanting to see what was behind it ever again.
Once the day sank into darkness and the glow of the sun was snuffed out, August turned off the TV and stood up, gathering the backpack he hadpacked the night before. I followed his lead, not caring about the condition we left the house in. We weren’t ever coming back here again.
He headed to the door, and when I followed him, my eyes caught on a familiar shape in the corner. It was his guitar, the one he would live and die for. There were a few nights when I touched it just to have the memory of him, but I was too afraid of ruining it, so it mostly remained in the corner where I could steal a glance at it every time I left the house. It was a sound that had previously made me fall in love with him, and he was leaving it behind.
“You’re not bringing your guitar?” I asked. He had his hand on the doorknob, and when I spoke, he removed it.
“Why? I don’t need it anymore.” My eyes fell. That just confirmed that he was changing. Before, he would’ve raised hell without it. Now, it was nothing different from any other useless item in our home. It wasn’t like most people could take their possessions with them when they passed, but we could.
“Will you bring it?” I begged. “Please?” That simple abandonment confirmed all of my worries, and he knew it. He gave me a sorrowful look, like he knew I was hurting.
“We can’t carry it with us, but I’ll get another one if it makes you happy,” he said. That was better than nothing. August without music was like the earth without water. “I’ll still sing for you, too, if you want.” My chest fluttered with a strange sensation that reminded me of life, and I leaned into him.
“I do.” He smiled and took hold of the doorknob again as his gaze caught on the subtle marks on my neck. Before he could open it, I spoke up. “Where are we going?” He turned to me with a mischievous look in his eye. All the joy I felt previously withered away, and that flutter was replaced with a sinking feeling.
“We’re going to pay an old friend a visit,” he said with a smirk. “Devin’s house isn’t that far of a walk, right?” My shoulders sank. Yes, it was, but I had a feeling I wasn’t talking him out of anything.
XIII
After a grueling journey in the pitch black dodging headlights and confused expressions, we made our way to Devin’s house. Memories came flooding back of all the misery I experienced here. If my mood could fall any further, it would. August appeared to feel much different than I did since he began singing under his breath the closer we got. Something about the devil and midnight made my skin crawl.
I supposed it was nice he felt so good about this, considering I felt like I was being shoved back into that grave. It was like those bloodstained sheets and heaps of dirt were pressed over my face again, smothering me with emotion.
August eyed me as we approached, carefully avoiding the outdoor lights cutting through the darkness like a blade. I noticed Devin’s car in the driveway as I pressed myself against his home. Despite my lack of life, I could still feel the chill of the brick against my back and the weight in my chest as he pulled open the back door that Devin always kept unlocked.
Serious crime didn’t happen in this town—not since August was taken from me. I had a creeping feeling the rate would only increase with his resurrection. Between the way he involuntarily made me join him and his comments about taking the world, something wicked was bound to happen. As they say, revenge is a dish best served cold, just like a corpse.
He grasped the handle and began to pry open the door. I observed as it creaked, feeling like the world was in slow motion. There was a low scrape as it moved inch by inch until there was enough space for us to slip in. He motioned for me to follow him as he entered the home, and without protest, I obeyed.
As soon as we were inside, I felt like my still heart danced in my chest. There were so many memories from the past few months that were as suffocating as being in the grave. Flashing of fights, arguments, and sobs surrounding August’s death were swirling in my head, making tears rest on the edges of my eyes.
Being here was like being in a haze of sorrow. There was nothing that could make me enjoy returning—except revenge. Revenge for all the terrible things he said to me, all the times he screamed at me, all the guilt he made me feel for mourning. Maybe there was something to this, even if the idea of it chilled me to the bone.
August’s footsteps were silent as he tiptoed through the living room. We could hear rustling in the kitchen, and he continued to creep while his shadow was plastered on the wall like a phantom. I could only imagine the suspenseful music that would play if this were a movie. And it would increase as August ambushed Devin and strangled the life out of him. It would be quick, and I would have to cover my eyes. Perhaps I would peek through for a moment, but that sight would haunt my nightmares, even if it did intrigue me.
Devin was standing at the counter with his back to us, oblivious to the invaders in his home. The silence was so profound that it was almost deafening, and I swore I could hear a ringing in my ears as I watched August sneak up behind him. His steps were as still as the night as he crept across the kitchen, and in an instant, he was on him.
It was like watching one of those nature documentaries when you see a spider pounce on a helpless insect faster than the blink of an eye. August’s firm hands grabbed him and spun him around, his fist raising and coming down against his face. Just as I predicted, I covered my eyes as a scarlet spray of blood fell from Devin’s now crooked nose.
“Oh my god, oh my god,” I said under my breath, hearing the sounds of grunts and snarls from them. When I uncovered my face, August had him flipped onto his back and was pummeling him with a blank expression. Emotionless, just like a predator.
“August?!” Devin’s voice was clogged with blood as he hit him again, inflicting his rage on him with a similar viciousness that he did with me, only this time, his victim wasn’t dying.
Despite what I experienced with him before, his raw brutality shocked me. No longer was this the man I knew in life, but the man warped by the trials of death. Sprays of dark crimson were flying through the air as he drew his fist back again and collided with Devin. This time, the struggling ceased, and he groaned, going limp.
“I-is he dead?” I stuttered, trying to unfreeze myself from the horrific scene before me. August stood up, wiping his bloody fists on his ragged shirt.
