Page 34 of Ho Ho Homicidal Mania
Blake steps back and hits the wall, his big eyes filled with fake innocence. “I— this must be a lie. Carl would never—”
“That’s why you were so desperate to silence the fucker, you actually stabbed him? What else are you not telling me, huh?” I make sure to stand between him and the door, in case he wants to run. The betrayal hurts more than any physical cut could. We had thebestday. I opened up to him. I showed him my craft room! Was he just pretending to like it and biding his time to escape?
“He came here to kill us,” Blake mumbles, hugging the bloodstained T-shirt.
“I told you I’d protect you, and you brought danger to my home! Look into my eyes and tell me you didn’t call your brother.”
Blake swallows and looks at the glass scattered over the floor as his chest sinks in defeat. He knows he’s been caught, and there’s no weaseling out of it now. Still, he tries.
“There were cops at the market. I could have gone to them, but I didn’t, because I didn’t want you to get in trouble. I just wanted to go home, so I called my brother. I thought he’d come and get me, or send someone, or… something.”
I shake my head and stretch my back, because at this point, the pain is a welcome distraction from the turmoil in my head. “And here we are. He sure sent someone. I told you it wasn’t safe, and you just wouldn’t listen.”
Blake takes in a shivery breath, and his eyes start glossing over.Nowhe’s sad. Too bad he didn’t feel that way before fucking me over.
“I didn’t think Carl would—I couldn’t have known... We’re brothers. He practically raised me.”
“And yet hedid! At least now we know,” I grumble, because seeing him so distraught brings me no pleasure. “He now knows where we are, so we need to leave,andI have a body to deal with.”
Tears spill down Blake’s cheeks, and his shoulders jitter as he hugs himself, lost in self-pity. Boo-fucking-hoo.
“What did you tell your brother, huh? Did you want me gone?"
Green eyes meet mine, and he shakes his head. “What? No! I was just scared, because just last night, you literally cuffed me to the bed. I don’t know you well. What would you have done in my place?” he asks and rubs his skin as the temperature in the room drops further.
It’s a bitter pill to swallow, but I just shake my head, because I can’t bear watching him cry. “Will you listen to me now?” I grab a fluffy blanket off the bed and drape it over his shoulders.
Blake nods.
As the adrenaline dissipates, I get cold too, but I have to deal with my back first, so I send him for the first aid kit and sit on the bed, staring at all the mess I’ll have to clean up. The assassin’s blood has soaked into the comforter, and he’s now a grayish-purple. I hate the fact that nothing about this can wait if I am to get the window replaced.
What a fucking nightmare. And during the Christmas season at that!
Now I wonder whether I should have kept Blake in the cage after all. He would have eventually come around.But then we couldn’t have had a lovely time ice skating. Relationships are hard.
Blake returns with the metal box containing bandages and all the other stuff I occasionally need to patch myself up, and he sits behind me. We’re so quiet I can hear him breathing.
“So… how do I do this?” he asks.
I instruct him through the wound-cleaning process and treat the pain as my punishment for trying to steal myself a boyfriend. Only when the needle starts piercing my skin, and I do need a few stitches going by the photo he took for me, can I focus again on the situation we’re in.
“What did you tell your brother about me? Should I expect a police raid soon?” I ask bitterly.
He sniffs, and I hate myself for being the cause of his tears, even though it’s him who’s betrayedme, not the other way around. I guess I just never was as sensitive as him, even as a child, so I might have to adjust to what anormalperson would feel, especially when out of their depth.
“Um… just that you’re obsessive, and that I went home with you, and you’re not letting me go. And that if I’m not upstairs, I might be in a cage in the basement,” I mumble. “But if he wants to get rid of me, he’s not going to involve the police.”
True. “I’m not ‘obsessive’,” I grumble even though he might have a point.
Silence, and then, “seriously? You barely know me and already act like we’re a couple!” he says before adding another stitch.
I want to believe he’s being as gentle as he can, but it’s hard when I get such harsh words thrown in my face. “Because I know you’re a good fit for me. You said mysnow globes were amazing, and then you grinded against me in bed like I was your sex toy.”
Blake inhales, and drops the needle, letting it hang against my skin. “I‘grinded against’ you? I woke up with your boner pressed to my ass!”
I groan at that happy memory. “Can happen to anyone.”
“Yes, so don’t twist it like I was molesting you. You wouldn’t let me go, so I wanted to deal with my problem and go back to sleep. But no, you just had to make a whole thing of it, and now you’re telling meIstarted it?”
