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“He raped her.” I motioned to the bathroom. “He raped some girl who refused to give him the time of day. You expect me to have left her there?”
“You didn’t have to kill him.” Liam was in my face now, but his posture had softened.
I rolled my lips into my mouth, conflicted about what to tell him. I glanced at the murder weapon before meeting his stare. “I wasn’t the one who killed him.”
Chapter 7
Audry
The bathroom was small. A ceramic sink, a toilet, and a small bathtub that barely fit me. My hands shook, and my mind spun. Events of the night blurred as I tried to keep my wits about me. A numbness settled into my joints, weaseling its place into my insides. I zoned onto the wallpaper, the sickeningly sweet yellow flowers staring back at me. The green background blurred as tears filled my eyes again.
“This isn’t real,” I muttered. But the soreness between my legs didn’t let me neglect the truth. I glanced down at myself, the red splatters of blood caked onto random sections of exposed and bruised skin. My shirt was soaked in it, sticking to my body in uncomfortable ways.
As I dragged my eyes back up, Carson stood in front of me, her back to the door. Her dark eyes softly scanned over me before meeting mine. She smiled, her hand outstretched toward me. My stare caught on the scar she had lining her throat, as if a thin wire had been pressed against her neck. She didn’t hesitate, only held her chin higher for me to see.
My fingers went to my neck, dancing along the flesh hesitantly. Carson’s words mumbled as blood rushed to my ears, blocking out the noise.
He choked me.
With that thought, my body numbed, and the world disappeared around me. Suddenly I was back in that alleyway, the stench of trash attacking my nostrils. My back was cold and wet from the concrete, an uncomfortable weight on my chest. I stared at myself from the outside, seeing him on top of me. His body thrusting as I screamed, till his hands wrapped around my throat?—
“Audry?” Carson was close in front of me now, her stare wide with a knowing pity. “Hey, there you are.” She smiled widely. The scent of cinnamon calmed me. Her hand rested gently on my shoulder.
“I—uh?—”
“It’s okay, you don’t need to say anything.” She took a deep inhale, her chest rising. The way she did made me follow along, a cleansing breath tunneling its way through my lungs. “I know what you went through tonight, and trust me when I say I understand the horror.”
How could she understand what I was going through? I couldn’t even understand it. There was no explanation or condolences she could offer me.
“Things will be better in the morning.” She took a step toward me, her hand nearly brushing my arm.
I flinched at her touch, caught off guard myself. Each muscle tensed painfully.
Carson hesitated, clenching her hand into a fist and dropping it to her side. “Let’s get you cleaned up. That will help.” She nodded.
Her certainty was both frustrating and calming at the same time. I wanted to scream at her that nothing would help, and things wouldn’t be okay. No matter how many times I scrubbed my skin clean, his scent—hishands—would be attached to me.But, her assurance also made the voice shut up for a moment, allowing me to fall into the false sense of security she offered.
The sound of hasty, inaudible whispers traveled into the small bathroom from the other side of the door. Carson glanced toward the sounds before back at me. Small snippets of conversation invaded my ears, words I wished I didn’t hear:That man, she killed.
I froze, and Carson stared with wide eyes.
She studied me, waiting for me to break. But I was already broken. Shattered into a million little pieces the moment he’d snatched me. As if that wasn’t enough, the pieces had been smashed into smaller parts when he threw me to the ground, and again when he’d entered me until I was an unrecognizable version of myself.
Memories of my screams echoed in my mind as the sensation of his blood pooling over me ran along my shoulders and down my arms. I knew human blood was warm, but I wasn’t prepared for how warm and how much drained from his neck.
“Why don’t we get you cleaned up and in some comfier clothes?” Carson prompted again. The shower had been started since I had been dragged into a trance.
My eyebrows furrowed in confusion, the millions of hours of crime television replaying in my mind. Evidence needed to be contained.
“I’m sorry, Audry,” Carson started, the softness of her tone doing nothing to lighten the blow. She knew what I was thinking—somehow, she did. “We can’t keep any of the evidence, nor can you go to the police to report this.”
“To hell I can’t!” I shouted, my anger getting the best of me. “That man?—”
“The man youkilled.”Carson didn’t flinch, her expression going dark. The same expression I saw for a split second on Kai’s face.
My mouth fell open to complain, but no sound came out. He was dead. Any evidence I had against him would be against me. He wasn’t breathing, and I was.
The weight of his body crushing mine returned. My chest constricted as if the memory was real.
