Carter Reed
Page 4
I closed my eyes when her soft hands came to my face. She lifted it up and started to inspect every line of exhaustion there was. Then she said in a gentle voice, “You should clean up, hon. Let’s go to the shower. I’ll help.”
I shook my head. It wouldn’t do any good.
“Come on.” Her hand cupped my elbow, and she started to pull me up. Her grip was strong.
Ben was rooted in place as he watched us. His gaze was stark and the hand that ran down his face couldn’t hide the exhaustion. I saw that he could’ve fallen over alongside of me. We were a mess, both of us, but then I caught sight of the closed bedroom door. The sick laugh in me shriveled up suddenly. None of us were in as much of a mess as she was.
Mallory. He had raped her.
An image of her broken eyes stared back at me as his hips thrust into her.
I flinched from the sudden flash, and this time the vomit really did come up. Rushing into the bathroom, I dropped to my knees. Frantically, I threw the toilet seat up just before everything pushed out of me. I did it again. And again. More came after that, and by the end, I could only hang onto the toilet to keep from falling down.
I was going to die.
“Oh, honey. Emma honey.” A cold washcloth was pressed to my forehead as Amanda knelt beside me. She wiped something off before she pressed it on my cheeks and then swiped beneath my lips. “You look a mess, but it’ll be okay. Everything will be okay.”
I closed my eyes tighter. I didn’t want to see the rest of the pity in her eyes. I couldn’t handle it, not from her. Her eyes were so crystal blue, no emotion could hide in them. I had to clear it all away. Mallory needed me. And then, as I continued to think of my roommate, I shoved the rest of my fear to the side. When I opened my eyes, I turned and finally looked Amanda in the eyes. Unlike her baby blues, mine were dark, nearly black, and she couldn’t see anything. She wouldn’t see the effort it took me to keep from vomiting more garbage.
I was contaminated.
“I killed a man.”
“I know, honey.” She bent and rested her forehead against mine. Her hands continued to wipe the washcloth over my cheeks. “We’ll get through this. We have to.”
“How?”
I winced at the tremble in my voice. I was weak. Pathetic.
“They’re coming for me, Ems. You need to be strong. You hear me? You have to be strong.”
My brother’s voice was in my head. Those memories wouldn’t help me now.
Amanda frowned at me. “What?”
“Nothing,” I muttered as I lifted an arm and tried to push her away, just a little. I needed room to breathe.
“No matter who knocks on the door, you don’t answer it. You don’t trust anyone, no one except Carter. Go to Carter. He’ll take care of everything. He’ll take care of you, Ems. I promise.”
I gritted my teeth. I had to stop thinking about my brother.
“EMMA! GET OUT HERE!” Ben bellowed from the living room.
I shot out to yell at him for yelling, but then I heard the reporter’s words and froze.
“Jeremy Dunvan is believed to be missing.” A picture of him flashed across the television screen. He was laughing in the photograph, smiling with a carefree look to whoever snapped the image. Then the reporter filled the screen with a somber expression over her face. Her eyes were sharp as she frowned into the camera. “If you have any information about the whereabouts of Jeremy Dunvan, call the number that is scrolling over the bottom of your screen. Again, if you have any knowledge at all about what might’ve happened to Jeremy Dunvan, please call this number.”
She continued to recite the same message. The police were notified by Jeremy’s father, Franco Dunvan, earlier in the morning that his 32 year old son had gone missing when he didn’t return home the prior evening. She recited it over and over again. I started to feel sick. More pictures of him came up. Some of them were with his friends. He wore a softball uniform in one, another with a beer in hand. All of them made him look friendly, handsome— not at all like the monster that I saw twenty-four hours ago.
A strangled sound came from Ben as he gaped at the television. One of his hands was twisted in his hair again. The other clutched the remote to his chest. His eyes were frantic. “I thought you said—” He stopped. His mouth closed, then opened again, then closed once more. His chest puffed up as he blinked rapidly for a second. “Holy shit, Emma. What did you do?”
My eyes narrowed and I lunged for him. He reared back as fear flared over him, but I swiped the remote from him and turned the television off. “He was raping her. He was killing her. He would’ve killed me too.” I stopped and swallowed over a knot in my throat. My eyes started to swim. “I did what I had to do.”
Ben gestured to the television again. His arm shook before it dropped back to his side. “Franco Dunvan. They said Franco Dunvan. Do you know who that is?”
“Yes,” I hissed out. God yes. I blinked back more tears. I sure as hell knew who had ordered the hit on my own brother.
“If you ever need anything, go to Carter.”
I shook my head to clear the last words my brother spoke to me before he rushed from our apartment. I followed him. He hadn’t wanted me to, but when he caught me in the alley, it was too late. They appeared at the end and he lifted me so I would be hidden.
I forced the memories away and spoke to Ben, “I told you this last night.”
“The day before yesterday.”
“What?” I stopped everything.
“The day before yesterday,” Ben murmured, lost in his own thoughts. “You came here two days ago.”
A whimper came from me. He’d been dead for two days now. Wait—was it? Time didn’t make sense anymore to me. But he was right. I always went to the gym after work at 5:00, but that day I got off early and skipped the gym. It was two nights ago when I killed him.
I had slept for almost twenty-four hours. I blinked in surprise. Had Mallory? I looked up quickly, but Ben shook his head. “She only fell asleep an hour ago. She hasn’t slept at all, neither have I.”
Oh.
Amanda reached around me and took the remote. The television was turned back on. As she sat on a couch, Ben sat beside her. Both of them settled back with determined looks on their faces. They were going to watch the news. They were going to hear all of it. And then, with my stomach clenching into a thousand knots, I went back and curled on the couch.
I shook my head. It wouldn’t do any good.
“Come on.” Her hand cupped my elbow, and she started to pull me up. Her grip was strong.
Ben was rooted in place as he watched us. His gaze was stark and the hand that ran down his face couldn’t hide the exhaustion. I saw that he could’ve fallen over alongside of me. We were a mess, both of us, but then I caught sight of the closed bedroom door. The sick laugh in me shriveled up suddenly. None of us were in as much of a mess as she was.
Mallory. He had raped her.
An image of her broken eyes stared back at me as his hips thrust into her.
I flinched from the sudden flash, and this time the vomit really did come up. Rushing into the bathroom, I dropped to my knees. Frantically, I threw the toilet seat up just before everything pushed out of me. I did it again. And again. More came after that, and by the end, I could only hang onto the toilet to keep from falling down.
I was going to die.
“Oh, honey. Emma honey.” A cold washcloth was pressed to my forehead as Amanda knelt beside me. She wiped something off before she pressed it on my cheeks and then swiped beneath my lips. “You look a mess, but it’ll be okay. Everything will be okay.”
I closed my eyes tighter. I didn’t want to see the rest of the pity in her eyes. I couldn’t handle it, not from her. Her eyes were so crystal blue, no emotion could hide in them. I had to clear it all away. Mallory needed me. And then, as I continued to think of my roommate, I shoved the rest of my fear to the side. When I opened my eyes, I turned and finally looked Amanda in the eyes. Unlike her baby blues, mine were dark, nearly black, and she couldn’t see anything. She wouldn’t see the effort it took me to keep from vomiting more garbage.
I was contaminated.
“I killed a man.”
“I know, honey.” She bent and rested her forehead against mine. Her hands continued to wipe the washcloth over my cheeks. “We’ll get through this. We have to.”
“How?”
I winced at the tremble in my voice. I was weak. Pathetic.
“They’re coming for me, Ems. You need to be strong. You hear me? You have to be strong.”
My brother’s voice was in my head. Those memories wouldn’t help me now.
Amanda frowned at me. “What?”
“Nothing,” I muttered as I lifted an arm and tried to push her away, just a little. I needed room to breathe.
“No matter who knocks on the door, you don’t answer it. You don’t trust anyone, no one except Carter. Go to Carter. He’ll take care of everything. He’ll take care of you, Ems. I promise.”
I gritted my teeth. I had to stop thinking about my brother.
“EMMA! GET OUT HERE!” Ben bellowed from the living room.
I shot out to yell at him for yelling, but then I heard the reporter’s words and froze.
“Jeremy Dunvan is believed to be missing.” A picture of him flashed across the television screen. He was laughing in the photograph, smiling with a carefree look to whoever snapped the image. Then the reporter filled the screen with a somber expression over her face. Her eyes were sharp as she frowned into the camera. “If you have any information about the whereabouts of Jeremy Dunvan, call the number that is scrolling over the bottom of your screen. Again, if you have any knowledge at all about what might’ve happened to Jeremy Dunvan, please call this number.”
She continued to recite the same message. The police were notified by Jeremy’s father, Franco Dunvan, earlier in the morning that his 32 year old son had gone missing when he didn’t return home the prior evening. She recited it over and over again. I started to feel sick. More pictures of him came up. Some of them were with his friends. He wore a softball uniform in one, another with a beer in hand. All of them made him look friendly, handsome— not at all like the monster that I saw twenty-four hours ago.
A strangled sound came from Ben as he gaped at the television. One of his hands was twisted in his hair again. The other clutched the remote to his chest. His eyes were frantic. “I thought you said—” He stopped. His mouth closed, then opened again, then closed once more. His chest puffed up as he blinked rapidly for a second. “Holy shit, Emma. What did you do?”
My eyes narrowed and I lunged for him. He reared back as fear flared over him, but I swiped the remote from him and turned the television off. “He was raping her. He was killing her. He would’ve killed me too.” I stopped and swallowed over a knot in my throat. My eyes started to swim. “I did what I had to do.”
Ben gestured to the television again. His arm shook before it dropped back to his side. “Franco Dunvan. They said Franco Dunvan. Do you know who that is?”
“Yes,” I hissed out. God yes. I blinked back more tears. I sure as hell knew who had ordered the hit on my own brother.
“If you ever need anything, go to Carter.”
I shook my head to clear the last words my brother spoke to me before he rushed from our apartment. I followed him. He hadn’t wanted me to, but when he caught me in the alley, it was too late. They appeared at the end and he lifted me so I would be hidden.
I forced the memories away and spoke to Ben, “I told you this last night.”
“The day before yesterday.”
“What?” I stopped everything.
“The day before yesterday,” Ben murmured, lost in his own thoughts. “You came here two days ago.”
A whimper came from me. He’d been dead for two days now. Wait—was it? Time didn’t make sense anymore to me. But he was right. I always went to the gym after work at 5:00, but that day I got off early and skipped the gym. It was two nights ago when I killed him.
I had slept for almost twenty-four hours. I blinked in surprise. Had Mallory? I looked up quickly, but Ben shook his head. “She only fell asleep an hour ago. She hasn’t slept at all, neither have I.”
Oh.
Amanda reached around me and took the remote. The television was turned back on. As she sat on a couch, Ben sat beside her. Both of them settled back with determined looks on their faces. They were going to watch the news. They were going to hear all of it. And then, with my stomach clenching into a thousand knots, I went back and curled on the couch.
