Page 33 of Written in Sin
“We’re going to stand up now. If you try anything, if you move a goddamn inch, you will swallow what’s left of your cigarette stained teeth.” My breathing is shallow and jagged, but I ask, “Do you understand?”
Brady gives me a nod so I slowly roll off of him. Once I stand, he jolts his body. If nothing else, I am a man of my word. I rear my steel-toed boot back before sending it flying directly into his face. Once, twice, then a final and third time before he goescompletely still. I look down at the blood on the floor and notice two chipped teeth lying in the puddle.
I must’ve stood up too fast because my head starts to swim and the entire hallway begins to shift. I’m so dizzy my vision is going in and out.
I feel soft hands under my arms when Cat lowers me to the ground. She’s saying something, but I can’t really make out what it is. I feel her hands cup my face and let out a wince when she touches my hand. She jerks her hand back, and I feel my head fall to the side before she pulls me into her.
My eyes squint open before I shut them when I realize how harsh the light is. One, two—I count to ten before opening them again, hoping they’ve had a minute to adjust. I see Cat’s figure in the corner by the door. She’s muttering something under her breath. What is she doing? I push myself up as much as I can—which isn’t a lot—straightening my back against the washing machine. “I told you to shut up… if you bite me—” She laughs. “Who am I kidding? You can’t fucking bite me.” I can see she’s moving, but it’s still blurry. I blink a few times and my vision slowly starts to refocus and I look at the clothespin clamped over his nose.
“Let me put it in and I’ll let you breathe again.”
What is she shoving into his mouth? My throat hurts when I talk. “Are those dryer sheets?” She jolts back and puts her hand on her chest before crawling over to me.
“Oh my god.” Her knees slide over the floor as she crawls to my side. “You look like a fucking Tim Burton character.”
I lift a hand to my face but she grabs my wrist before I’m able to touch anything. “Don’t. We need to get you cleaned up a little more first.” I scan the room. How did she manage to get us both in here? As if hearing my unspoken questions, she answers, “I dragged you in first. It was hard. But not as hard as pushing him in here.” Her head nods backwards toward Brady who faces us. A clothespin is barely hanging onto his nose, clipped to the smallest bit of skin, and his mouth is full of something.
She pushes her legs out from underneath her to sit upright. “It’s a sock. I emptied the lint trays to add some weight to it.” He looks like shit and I’m sure I look just as bad. Thankfully the room’s got a giant sink, so she was able to clean her face. From the looks of my hands, she tried to clean me up too, as much as she could. There’s a pile of bloody towels by the door, and on the floor next to them is a clothes iron with blood smeared around the handle. I cock an eyebrow, but she doesn’t react. “What are we going to do with him?” she asks.
“We aren’t going to do anything. You’ve got to act as normal as possible.”
“Thats a big fucking ask. Considering he”—her eyes dart to Brady, forming into small slits—“just attacked us.” I pinch the bridge of my nose and start running through a list of possible solutions.
“What time is it?”
“You’ve only been out, like thirty minutes.”
Relief washes over me and I let out a deep breath. “Good. That gives me time.” I’ve got to come up with something before Fenris finds out what’s going on.
“Okay.” Her nose scrunches up when her face forms into a weird expression. It’s like she’s following me, but confused.
“You’re going to go shower, change clothes, and go on about your day. As far as you’re concerned none of this happened.”
The sooner she gets his blood off of her the better. I hate that it’s on her skin. “Except for the part where you told me Fenris was giving me to this”—her thumb points back at Brady—“then you proceeded to stab him, pass out, and I dragged you both into the laundry room.”
I brace myself, flattening my palms on the floor. “Yeah, except for that.” I suck in a breath and push up. Cat reaches out, and I let her help me to my feet. “Please. Just do this, just go back to your room. I’m going to take care of this.”
She leans in to me, being cautious not to put any of her weight on me before placing a kiss on my cheek. “Okay.”
“Okay? That’s it? You aren’t going to fight me?” She cocks her head at me.
“Do you want me to fight you?”
“No. I’m actually relieved.”
She turns and steps over Brady who groans out in pain when the tip of her foot accidentally kicks his stomach. Pausing at the door she looks back at me and grabs a basket of clothes that are ready to be dropped off. “If he gets too loud, just use the iron.” She grins and leaves.
That explains the blood on the handle. I look back to Brady and notice the giant goose egg forming on the corner of his forehead. A lightbulb goes off. I can’t hide the condescension in my words when I say, “I’ve got the perfect place for you.” I lean down and push through the pain to give him a pat on the top of his head. “Now, how the fuck am I going to drag you to the graveyard?”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Zedediah
Ifinally managed to wrestle Brady’s limp body into the trash can, his limbs bent awkwardly like a broken doll. Now, moving him from the trash can to the large muck cart at the back of the house was another story. But, I did it. The only sounds I heard on the way to the graveyard were the carts squeaking wheels bouncing over gravel and branches snapping once I entered the woods.
Sweat is clinging to my back and working its way through my shirt as I push the cart as close as possible to the shed before stopping and locking the wheels. My hands are slick when I roll Brady out of the cart, his body landing on the ground with a thump. I step in a puddle, and the clay clings to my boots as I lock my arms under and over his armpits.
“You smell like you wash your ass with a dirtier ass,” I grumble under my breath. My shoulders scream at me when I drag him up the steps that are in dire need of replacing and stop on the landing. Wiping away the stinging sweat that’s dripping into my eyes, I open the door, sucking in the humid air. I findthe loose flooring, pulling them up and out of the way, exposing what was once my hiding space.
