Page 91 of Save Me

I see the gleam of his eyes and smile. “Hey, pretty boy. I’m sorry I scared you. Are you okay?”

No response. I’ll need food to coax him out.

My heart tap dances in my chest. Arthur is gone. The problem is gone. Things are going to be okay!

I can’t resist bouncing up. I want to give Maddox a quick peck on the cheek, but at the last second, I stop myself. I know he’s scared, but he doesn’t have to be anymore. It’s all going to be okay!

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

Nothing is going to be okay. I think I’m floating in some weird dissociated reality, but I can’t stop it from happening. It’s like I’m staring at what looks like a monster, but it’s actually laundry on the chair, and I can’t look away. Because the monster is Arthur, and he’s really fucking real.

I took a life. No, I did, then Micah did. We’re murderers. We killed someone, and we can’t change that. We’re going to prison for the rest of our lives.

Mads.

I hear my name, like it’s in a dream.

“Mads.”

It’s Micah; I recognize it now. But I can’t look away from the monster in the room.

“Mads.” He shakes my shoulder, trying to get me to look away. If I just ignore him, he’ll go away, so I can stay in this bubble.

He doesn’t go away; he keeps shaking.

Irritation bubbles in my gut. “What?”

“Are you okay?”

How could I be okay? I almost rip my gaze away from Arthur, but with monumental effort, I keep it glued to him. As it stays, my heart rate steadies. He can’t get up and kill either of us if I keep watching him.

Micah says something, but it takes me a second to hear it. I realize he’s said that people are coming over.

“What?” This time, I snap my gaze over to him. Micah has a hesitant look in his eyes, but as soon as our eyes meet, he smiles.

“Yeah, they’re gonna take care of him!”

Micah is so…happy? And for a minute, it throws me for a loop. What’s happening? Then I register that he’s bringing people to help, and the relief that hits me makes my knees weak. Maybe this can get better. Maybe he can explain to the cops exactly what happened. Get us a good lawyer. If we have a good lawyer, we’ll be okay, and Micah can afford one.

So when I hear a commotion downstairs, my chest gets lighter. Someone is here to help. Then Micah is there, wrapping something around my waist.

A towel.

For a second, the action feels so oddly regular. Like I just got out of a shower, not like…well, not like what this is.

“Hear you guys were looking for the Fairview special–oh… hey, towel party!” A tall man with dark hair bursts into the room, followed shortly by a man with red hair and freckles carrying something under his arm. The tall man is grinning, white teeth flashing.

“Don’t step in it, angel. We won’t have time to clean out the hearse before the service,” the red-haired man tuts. I glance down at what he’s looking at. A red, bubbly puddle of blood.

Puddle. Blood comes in puddles?

The two men are followed by an even taller man with white hair who says nothing. All of them are wearing jeans and t-shirts, and I frown. They don’t look like lawyers. Or cops.

The red-haired man pulls the thing out from under his arm and shakes it out. It’s a bag. A long bag.

The dark-haired man snaps some gloves on his hands. “Two shots? What, he catch you off guard?” He grips Arthur by the hair and rolls him down off the wall toward the bag.

The body bag.