Page 6 of Bake the Town Red

“Dahlia,” my brother groans, sitting up.

“I hate you.” My scream is more of a shriek. My laugh is shrill and borderline manic. “I hate you, you monster.”

“Dahlia, open up!” The voice that reaches from behind the door is familiar. Tyler. “Ian! You in there? Open up.”

Hearing him here gives me pause. A moment of clarity. Seconds of sanity as I’m bathing in my uncle’s blood.

He came here to save us, after all. Isn’t at some Halloween party. He’s stayed home, in this miserable apartment complex. Truth is, he could’ve moved out long ago. He’s got a fancy new job as a software engineer. But he’s still here.

“Dahlia!”

I’m not imagining this. Tyler is here.

A smile creeps up my lips. That is until I’m knocked off to my side.

“Hand the knife over.” Ian’s on top of me, his fingers digging into my fist. “Dahlia, hand the fucking knife over. Tyler will use the spare key I gave him soon. I can’t let him see you did this. It has to be me, do you hear?”

“No, no.” I shake my head on the blood-stained floor. “It was me. I did this. I’ll say it was self-defense.”

“They won’t believe you.” Ian’s stronger, despite the bruises blooming on his stomach, chest, and chin. “Let me have it.”

He wrestles the knife from my hold and makes a dash for the kitchen sink, rinsing the blood.

“They will,” I call after him.

The lock jiggles.

“They won’t.” While the lock clicks, Ian settles over Al’s dead body. He stabs and slashes and tears through the gashes, through what little unharmed skin Al has left. “Remember what the lady from social services called him?Sweetest uncle I’ve ever met. We’re making it look like I killed him. It’s fine, sister. It’s okay. It’s the goddamn least I can do for you.”

Click.

“No.” I reach for my brother again. The first tears of the night cascade down my cheeks. “I won’t let you go to prison. This is me. All me.”

“The hell you’re taking the fall for him.” My gaze trails away, leaving my brother in favor of the thundering voice above us. The man who towers tall, so tall.

Gorgeous, too. His scruff is cut close to the skin, and it’s neat. Oh-so-neat. Tyler’s dark brown hair is short on the sides and messy on top, but even that looks intentional. He goes to a barber. Ian never does.

Then there’s his eyes. They’re beautiful. The way the sixty-percent chocolate-brown eyes gaze at me. There’s not a shrivel of bad intent in them. Not a splash of malevolence lurking underneath.

Ian stops jamming the knife into Al. I stop breathing altogether.

That’s not entirely true. I do breathe. I sniff him. Smell Tyler. How clean he is.

He’s always so freaking clean. His gray T-shirt and pale blue jeans aren’t rumpled like ours.

Clean.

Pure.

Perfect.

“Little savage, are you listening to me?” There’s no endearment in his voice. His eyebrows are furrowed. Fire bursts from him. “Ian did this. Ian will go to prison. You won’t. I’ll pay for his defense. I’ll protect you while he’s gone. You won’t take the blame for something you didn’t do. Forget about it.”

Yes, Tyler’s perfect. But even perfect people make mistakes. And it’s not like Ian’s making it easy for him to see the truth, with how he’s on top of Al like that.

Problem is, Tyler’s mistake means years in prison for my brother.

I’ve been in love with him for over a year. A crush he won’t reciprocate no matter how many times I bat my eyes at him. No matter how many spiders I give him.

---