NINE
Kade deals with Michael's body alone, and I stay on the lounge, staring at the fire, watching the flames as they dance. Every second he takes is torture. I don't know if he's okay or if he's been caught. I don't know if the shock of it all is too much for him to bear. I said I would help him. I should be out there with him.
Exhaling, I throw off the fleece blanket and swing my legs off the edge of the lounge. I sit up, wincing at the pain radiating down my neck and glance over my shoulder to the bed. I can't help him carry Michael's body, but I can help him clean. I can get the room ready for when he returns.
I lift off the couch, unsteady on my feet, and walk to the bathroom. I go through the cupboards, looking for anything that cleans blood splatter and leaves no trace, but there's nothing besides hair soaps and razor blades.