Page 90 of Haven't Killed in Years
“We’ve just been fighting a lot. All the time, really. We both pick stupid arguments over nothing. We have very different ideas of the future and he struggles with how the past affects me.” Her voice cut out, her breath shaky. I was reminded again what I had taken from her—how horrible her past was.
“Tell me about your family,” I said.
“It’s okay,” she said, trying to hide that she was upset.
“Really,” I insisted. “I’d rather listen than talk right now.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Whatever you want to tell me.”
She thought about it. “I don’t remember that much. I was so young. I guess I should be grateful for that.”
I didn’t respond. She was grasping for a way out of the conversation, but I wanted to hear more. I wanted to know what kind of family I had destroyed.
“My parents weren’t really the lovey-dovey type. I think they were tired. The three of us were a lot, me and my brothers.” She picked at her fingernails. “I miss Blake the most,” she continued. “He was the nicest to me. He was nerdy; puberty was hitting him hard. He didn’t have a lot of friends, so he was one of the only people who enjoyed my company.”
“What about your other brother?” I asked. I wanted to know what she thought of that little shit. Maybe there was room for forgiveness if she didn’t like him either.
“Cody was tougher. We were too close in age. He was big for ten, kind of a bully. Blake and I naturally got along better. But Cody could be sweet sometimes. If no one was looking.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. I was sorry her family was brutally murdered, and I was sorry I was the reason why.
- - - - -
At some point afterthat, I fell asleep. I don’t know how. I must have been so exhausted. I must have felt safe enough to close my eyes. Elyse might have put something more in that drink, but I wasn’t complaining.
When I woke up, I was disoriented and it took me a minute toremember where I was. I was in Elyse’s bed and I was alone. It was much brighter outside than when I’d arrived. There was no sign of her. I reached over to the nightstand where my phone was and saw a text from her saying she had to go to work but didn’t want to wake me.
No one else had texted. I shot off a round of messages that seemed routine by now.
A few to Porter.
Me:Where are you?
Me:Please text me back ASAP.
Me:Or call.
And then Dominic. I’d asked him to lay low, but given what had transpired since, this was too low.
Me:I really need to talk to you.
Me:I’m worried.
Me:Please
I slipped out of bed and went in search of something I could wear home. I found yoga pants and kept the sweatshirt that I didn’t think she would mind me borrowing. In her closet, I found a pair of flip-flops. They were too small and my heels hung off the back, but at least they weren’t covered in blood.
I grabbed the trash bag of bloody clothes and left.
- - - - -
I added the hoodedsweatshirt and knife to the trash bag and flung it into a fly-ridden restaurant dumpster, hoping there was no reason for anyone to go looking there. I stopped to buy cleaningproducts with cash, two towns away from the secluded spot I found where I could park and scrub my car clean. When I ran out of evidence to conceal, I headed home. It didn’t feel right going back to my apartment, but I had nowhere else to go. It was Gwen Tanner’s apartment and I wasn’t feeling very Gwen Tanner at the moment.
Mrs. Magnus’s cat sat sprawled across the landing outside my door, but when he saw me, he jumped to his feet and scurried back downstairs like even he found me unrecognizable.
I sat on my couch. I didn’t know what to do next. I should want to do something. Something to find Wesley—whoever he really was. That had to be an alias. It was all so personal. It had to be someone connected to me or my father. Someone I had met. I’d gained nothing from finding Natalie or from her death. I was right back in the same place and all I wanted to do was lie down.
