Page 79 of Need Him Like Oxygen

Even if each step up into my building ached.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Cinna

I smelled the bleach when the elevator doors slid open.

Christ.

Did someone spill an entire bottle somewhere?

On a sigh, I made it to my door, working all the locks free, thankful that Joel had locked up for me.

As soon as I whipped open the door, a wall of bleach stench slammed into me, making me hold my breath as my eyes burned.

My gaze went immediately to the spot on the floor where the body had been. Where a giant blood puddle had been.

But it was gone.

So was the blood on the fridge from propping up the body.

Joel.

That kid was really going far and beyond.

It wasn’t until after I closed and locked the door behind me that I realized I wasn’t alone.

Because right there on my couch, huddled under a winter jacket for warmth, was Joel. Sleeping soundly.

I knew I was supposed to wake him up, push him out, let him know he was gonna be late for school.

But the kid had a rough night, even before cleaning up a literal crime scene for me.

I walked over to the kitchen, sliding the window open to air out the bleach smell a bit, then walking into my bedroom, finding my only extra blanket, and bringing it out to drape over him.

He didn’t even flinch.

Did he always sleep that soundly?

Was it the adrenaline or exhaustion?

Or was it something else? The sleep of a kid who finally, fucking finally, had a safe space?

I understood that feeling all too well. I wasn’t sure I even realized how sleep-deprived I’d been my whole childhood until I moved out at eighteen and had several locked doors between me and anyone who wanted to hurt me.

More than anything, that was why I let the kid sleep. All through that morning as I went over his cleaning with a fine-tooth-comb, never truly satisfied if I wasn’t in control of a situation. Then part of the afternoon as I packed up my blood-free clothes to toss, showered, and tried to catch some sleep, but found my mind wandering back to the woods, to Dav, and all those sticky, complicated feelings I was trying to avoid around him.

It was a door slam coming from across the hall that finally had him jerking upright on the couch, sleepy eyes wide, his hair all mussed.

“You’re alright,” I said over the mug of my coffee. “Just the neighbor,” I added as he focused on me, confused for a moment, before it all came rushing back. “Thanks for cleaning, kid. I don’t think my floors have ever been this clean.”

“Didn’t know it was white linoleum under all that dirt,” he teased, making my lips curve up as he sat off the side of the couch.

“Want coffee? Fair warning, everyone thinks I make it too strong.”

“No such thing,” he said, folding his blanket and draping it over the back of the couch before coming and taking a cup from me, then going for the canister of sugar that sat unused most of the time since I liked my coffee bitter enough to start a rock band.

“Well, no, not when you put a cup of fucking sugar in it,” I said as I watched him pile it in, stir, and take a greedy sip.

---