Page 150 of Bad Blood

She pulls open the door and turns, her damp hair flying over her shoulder. She freezes. Her chest rises and falls with short, rasping breaths. She covers her face with both hands.

“Hey, it’s okay. I got you.” I take her hand in mine, pull her back into the foyer, and wrap my arms around her as I turn her to face away from the open door.

She starts gasping for air. I run my hand over the back of her head. Her body tremors, and she crumples in my arms. I guide her back to the stairs, setting her on the bottom step. Her eyes are vacant. She wraps her arms around her belly and rocks back and forth while shaking her head and murmuring, “No, no, no.”

I crouch to look her in the eyes. “Take a deep breath in. Hey, look at me,” I say, brushing her hair out of her face. “Now out. You need water?”

She doesn’t respond.

I don’t know what to do, what to say. I hate not knowing how to react or how to get her to answer. “We can grab something on the way to my apartment. I don’t want to leave you here alone.”

She pauses for a second but doesn’t answer. I can tell she’s listening to me, no longer focused on what’s happening outside. Her eyes widen, and she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. I can tell it’s taking everything in her not to break down. She stares at me like she wants to say something but changes her mind.

I clear my throat and smile at her. Something about this feels like the right time. “Can I tell you something?”

42

Clarity in Chaos

Brighton

Saturday, June 10 th

8:09 a.m.

It’s in his eyes.

The walls he’s built to protect himself.

A way to block the pain.

It’s come to the surface before, but this time, it’s different. There’s something deeper, something he’s not prepared to confess. And I get it; we’re scared to be vulnerable because of things that have been used against us in the past. Our softness, once judged as weakness, our compassion reduced to pity.

And despite how I reacted seconds before, he’s back to his usual self.

“I don’t know where to start.” He takes a seat beside me and gives an uncomfortable chuckle before he clears his throat. He stares over my head, and I follow his gaze to the front door.

Once again, I think about the flapping, yellow caution tape, and it steals my breath. I fight my climbing anxiety and try to focus on the moment, on Dax.

“I hate them,” he says through clenched teeth. “All of them.” He continues to stare as his jaw ticks.

“Who’s them?” I urge, after giving him a couple of seconds to gather himself.

“Cops. Detectives.”

This explains a lot. I figured his hostile reaction to Derrick was because of how he was treating me, but now I’m having second thoughts.

“They wouldn’t let me see him. I had to wait for hours. Question after question. When they brought out the bodies”—he pinches his eyes closed and drops his head into his hands, jabbing a finger into his chest as his voice cracks—“they thought it was me.”

My chest tightens. I was not expecting this. I step toward the living room to our right and offer my hand, hoping to guide him to the sofa, but he ignores it.

“Liam found them. But I should have been there first. I would have been if I wasn’t being a selfish asshole.” His tone wavers as tears fill his eyes. He tears his gaze from mine and shoves his hands through his hair, pulling it in different directions.

“I’m sure he doesn’t see it like that.”

“He says he doesn’t blame me, but you should’ve seen his face. I don’t think I can ever get it out of my mind. It looked like a home invasion at first. They figured my mom had come home before my dad and surprised the intruders because they found her in the kitchen, and when he got there, he got a gunshot to the chest as he walked through the door. And the cops thought I could do something like that.” He jabs himself in the chest again and closes his eyes. “I know the people closest to the victims are usually the first suspects, but it still felt wrong. It wasn’t the cops’ fault; they were just doing their job. But every time I see them, it brings back memories from that night.”

I want to say something, but normal thoughts evade me.

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