Page 45 of Captive Bride

"Shit, Tristan. I forgot-"

"It's fine," I cut him off, not wanting to dwell on my limitations. Not now. Not when there was still so much to deal with.

My gaze fell on David's body, crumpled where I'd dropped him by the door. The sight of him, lifeless and broken, sent a fresh wave of nausea through me. I swallowed hard, tasting bile.

“You look like you’re about to pass out.”

I couldn't deny it. The room was spinning, and I felt clammy all over. "Just... give me a minute," I managed to say.

I closed my eyes, trying to steady my breathing. The room still spun, but I forced myself to focus. There was work to be done.

"We need to clean this up," I said, opening my eyes to survey the damage.

Kieran nodded, his face grim. "I'll take care of Amber. You sure you're okay?"

I waved him off, not trusting myself to speak. The truth was, I felt far from okay. My body ached, my head pounded, and the weight of what we'd just done pressed down on me like a physical thing.

“You knew,” I said. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? You knew someone was going to try to kill us.”

Kieran sighed, rubbing his temple as he shut his eyes tightly. “Yeah,” he said. “We need to talk.”

***

There was something so familiar, practically domestic, about cleaning a scene with my little brother. Kieran asked me where the linen closet was, and together, we wrapped both Amber and David’s body in black sheets.

As we worked, my stomach churned. The adrenaline was wearing off, leaving me shaky and nauseous. I focused on breathing steadily, trying to push through the weakness.

"We need to move them," I said, gesturing to the wrapped bodies.

Kieran nodded grimly. "I'll take care of it. You shouldn't strain yourself more."

“Our neighbors might have heard the scuffle. They’re going to call the police. I won’t be able to help as much as usual, but I will help. This isn’t a one-man job.”

“Tristan…”

I shook my head, cutting off Kieran's protest. "No arguments. We're in this together."

Kieran's jaw clenched, but he nodded. "Fine. But you tell me the second it gets too much."

We worked in silence, maneuvering the bodies out of the nursery. My arms trembled with the effort, but I pushed through. The weight of David's lifeless form pressed against me, a grim reminder of what we'd done.

As we reached the garage, a wave of dizziness hit me. I gripped the arms of my wheelchair, willing the world to stop spinning.

"Tristan?" Kieran's voice sounded distant.

"I'm fine," I muttered, though my voice sounded weak even to my own ears.

Kieran didn't look convinced, but he didn't argue. We loaded the bodies into the trunk of my car, the thud as it closed echoing in the quiet garage.

We loaded the bodies into the trunk of my car, the thud as it closed echoing in the quiet garage.

I slumped back in my wheelchair, exhaustion washing over me in waves. My hands shook as I gripped the armrests, fighting to stay upright. The garage swam before my eyes.

"That's it," Kieran said firmly. "You're done."

I wanted to argue, to insist I could keep going, but the words wouldn't come. My throat felt tight, my tongue too heavy in my mouth. I managed a weak nod.

Kieran's face softened with concern. "Let's get you inside. You need to rest."

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