Page 69 of The Woman in the Warehouse

“It’ll be fine,” I said. “I just feel bad that I can’t help more.”

“Actually, you can,” Elio said as he came back into the kitchen.”

“How?” I asked.

“We need supplies. But we need to look like we’re not trying to hide bodies,” he said. “Bleach, gloves, paper towels…”

“How many stores carry that shit on Staten Island?” Anthony asked.

“Within a reasonable distance? Ten.”

“I’ll get the bleach,” I offered. “Figure people are less likely to suspect a woman of trying to hide bodies,” I said, shrugging. “I think I can reasonably get two gallons at two different stores without anyone thinking twice about it.”

With that, we got Matej some more food, found him a few of his weapons, then headed to the stores to get everything we needed.

“Want a snack or something? Anthony asked, waving toward the shelves at the last store.

“No. I’m… not hungry,” I admitted, stomach still a little twisty from the blood and the story Matej told.

“Never thought I’d hear that,” Anthony said, taking the paper towels from me, and putting them up on the belt with his.

“I know, right?” I agreed. Not even the sour gummy worms in the checkout lane looked tempting.

When we made it back to the parking lot, Elio was coming back with a box of gloves to add to our stash that already filled the trunk and spilled out into the backseat next to me.

“You guys are going to need to buy or rent a carpet cleaner,” I reminded them. At their pinched brows, I shook my head. “The mattress. A surface clean isn’t going to cut it. Carpet clean it, and then buy one of those rubbery bed bags to put it in before you get rid of it.”

“Gotten rid of a lot of bloodstained mattresses, huh?” Elio asked, shooting me a smirk in the rearview. “We will unload all of this shit, then Ant can drive you back to the ferry,” he said.

With that, we drove back to the house and unpacked the carload of supplies as well as more drinks and food for Matej. Along with some mouthwash for his missing tooth gap, and a bunch of first-aid supplies to clean up his wounds.

“These things were a damn good idea,” Anthony said as he reached down to remove the booties covering his shoes as we moved out onto the back deck.

“It’ll make life easier,” I agreed. I’d also convinced them to buy white tees and cheap pajama pants to change into to clean. That way they could bleach the shit out of them in the wash, get back into their clothes, and have no trace evidence on them. “Gonna have to ask Silvano if he knows all these tricks,” he added.

“Who is Silvano?” I asked.

“He’s who the Family uses to… clean things up,” he said.

“Saylor,” Matej called, making me turn back to look at him leaning in the doorway, still looking weak and sad, but trying his best to stay upright.

“Yeah?”

“I will make things right,” he vowed.

“Don’t worry about that,” I said, shaking my head. Suddenly, my missing supply of guns felt really fucking small in the face of this man’s losses. “Focus on getting yourself well again.”

“I will make it right,” he said, voice stronger.

“Okay,” I agreed, knowing he wouldn’t let it drop. “But there’s no rush,” I added.

“I will be back in half an hour,” Anthony said, nodding toward Matej and Elio in the house behind him.

With that, he jingled Elio’s keys in one hand while pressing his hand to my lower back in the other.

Really, it was asking far too much of his coordination.

His foot caught the last step weird, sending him pitching forward. And I was pretty sure if I hadn’t grabbed the railing hard with one hand, and snagged the back of his belt with the other, that he would have done more than just stumble and catch himself. And that was an unforgiving concrete slab right below him.

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