Page 30 of Dead By Dusk

“All their information is bleak as Hell, and I’m not sure if you noticed, but I didn’t particularly go for the kill. It just happened,” I respond back as if he didn’t just see the scene play out the same way I did. It’s really my only defense, though I’m not sure what I have to defend myself against.

“How does that just happen?” Ronan asks across from me. His face doesn’t hold any judgment or disgust, just piqued interest and astonishment at how one could manage to accidentally eat their own blade without assistance from someone else. His gaze sets me on fire and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from saying something stupid, and yet…

“Hmmm, why don’t you take his blade and I can show you?” The words are mine, though the voice is anything but. It’s raspier—more suggestive—and the gleam in his eyes does nothing but tell me he noticed the change in my tone.

His brows raise slightly as a smirk rises to his lips before he responds.

“There she is, I was wondering when I’d get her back.” His voice is quiet, though dosed with humor nonetheless.

The scoff that escapes me is laughable, and for some reason it seems like it encourages him to continue on, before a gruff sound interrupts us. We have a crowd…again. It seems we always do in these oddly intimate moments. It’s infuriating, though not as much as the fact that we keep ending up in these moments at all when it’s the last thing I want or need happening. I wish I wasn’t fighting every impulse when it comes to him. We are nothing of what we had been before these past few days. Nothing but remnants of broken promises and potent lies.

We are nothing, yet he haunts me the way I hope I do him. I find that to be such an odd thing. How one has the ability to haunt while they still live and breathe—while they walk by your side and meet your gaze.

He still has that look in his eyes. The one that makes me want to crumble. The one that makes me feel like it was reel to him at some point in time. It’s one that pleads for a fraction of my time or attention like it could save him or damn him. I have to steel myself, have to straighten my composure and remind myself of the last thing I remember. The fighting, the barrel of the gun pressed against a frightened Carmen, the admission of how we all ended up in that room together at the same time.

Thunder rips across the sky, and all our heads snap toward the source of the sound through the dense canopy of trees. The gold from this morning has vanished, and in its place is a dark and dangerous shade of gray.

“We need to hurry and get to the house,” Nathaniel says in response to the skies that are now gloomy and darkened. “There’s a storm coming.” The rest of us respond with a simplenod while continuing on our trek. Nathaniel, carrying the bloody rabbit by its foot at his side.

The rest of the journey was mercifully quiet, though a cool draft crept upon us in the early hours of the night as small rain drops steadily began to fall. Part of me—a very large part—has tensed up since the first strike of lightning shot across the sky. The other part of me, however small it may be, is thankful for this as the blood and dirt from the past several days seems to slowly wash itself from my body.

I know I’m not clean. Remnants of the violence are still ghosts upon my skin. No longer visible but still there for those who dare to really look.

But it’s nice to be able to fully see myself, even if it’s in the distressed state that has taken hold of me, currently covered in goosebumps, cuts and bruises both old and new.

“Just push me up, it’s—no, what are you doing?” Ronan’s agitated voice comes from below. I’m silently laughing at the fact that the men can’t figure out how to get back on the roof now that Carmen and I have been easily lifted and pushed atop the house. Since then, it’s been at least fifteen minutes where they’ve gone back and forth about how to lift each other up without hands slipping into uncharted territory.

The rain is now at a downpour as I sit near the spikes on the roof, a good distance away from where Bobby’s mutilated body had been when I was last here, though it is now gone. The only sign he had ever been here was the dried blood on the spikes when we first arrived that has since washed away with the harsh conditions. The idea that someone had lifted his body and moved it sends terribly violent shivers down my spine. Who moved it? Where did they take his body?

“Hey, geniuses, why don’t you both lift Nathaniel first? He’s the shortest and lightest which means he’ll need the extra boost. He can step in each of your palms and you lift from there,” I shout over them. They all look at me the best they can as water harshly falls into their eyes, and the wind picks up speed and makes them glance back down at each other. All except Ronan, whose gaze lingers on me for a moment longer before adjusting the soaking wet pants clinging to his body like a second skin. When he seems satisfied with the way it bunches and grants a better flow of movement for him, he squats down and allows Nathaniel to step into his hold before lifting up.

Their movements aren’t graceful by any means, but it gets the job done. Slowly, a head of ginger hair comes into view. His hands, pale and pruney, grip the edge as tight as possible before he throws one arm on the roof to brace himself as he pulls the rest of his body up and over, grunting as he does so.

With eyes closed, his chest rises and falls in labored breaths before he moves to sit up. He jolts in surprise when he turns his head and comes face to face with one of the metal spikes protruding from the roof. To spare him the embarrassment, I say nothing of it, and instead call his name so he turns his body back toward me, which he quickly obliges.

Though he doesn’t look at me long before he’s staring past me, at the spot where William had been. His face, already pale, is suddenly drained of any remaining color, including the small patches of pink that had been dusting his cheeks from the cold wind and rain. He doesn’t ask the question, though I know that he wants to. His expression directly mirrors Carmen’s before I walked her into the house and forced her to lock the bathroom door to ensure no one could get to her if there were already occupants in the house waiting for our arrival.

“Hey, Ms. All Knowing up there, what do we do next?” The voice is deep and sarcastic and makes me huff out a laugh.

I look down at him with an overly bright smile and respond with, “Donnie, I know all those days in the gym weren’t just to look good. You can partially lift Ronan, and we’ll grab his hands when he’s high enough to take some of the weight off your end.”

And so he does. Both Nathaniel and I help pull his body up until he has enough leverage to lug himself over the rest of the way. Then I hold up a finger to him and shout, “Give us one moment and I’ll bring the plan out to get you up.”

“Get the—HEY! Where are you—” I don’t listen to the rest of his sentence. I already know what the barrage of questioning will be as I fully stand and trudge back to the window before stepping inside, silently laughing as I go.

Shivers instantly wrack my body at the temperature change. It’s warmer in here, but I’m soaked to the bone in my current clothes, dripping all over the hardwood floor. I turn my gaze over to Carmen who is staring at me expectantly, and I just give her a small smile and tell her to wait there for a few more moments before I unlock the door and take light silent steps toward one of the bedrooms. The hair on my body stands straight up in anticipation at what could be hiding behind any door or corner, but I don’t run into anyone. I take that as a temporary win as I remove the curtains from one of the windows, then go to a different room and grab those curtains too.

Once I have two long lengths of dark fabric, I tie the ends together in the best knot I can manage and walk back to the bathroom, lock the door and head back out the window to the waiting men.

“So, I figure we toss one end down, you grab hold of it and climb while we also lift. So you’re not doing all the work again,” I call down as I drop one end of the makeshift rope to him and tell him to wait for my signal. Keeping my hold, I sit back and brace each leg against two separate metal spikes, hoping that myfeet don’t slip with all the gathered moisture covering them. I’m about to call down to Adonis to start climbing when I feel heat enveloping me from behind.

Ronan has taken it upon himself to straddle my body, his feet propped on the same spikes as mine though slightly lower so that his heels still touch the roof below us. His hot breath fans my ear as he whispers, “I know you’re enjoying this, but if you don’t tell him to start climbing soon, everyone else might realize it too.”

My body is a scorching inferno with anger at his blatant arrogance, but also in a blush that overtakes every one of my senses until all I am is confused, with my mouth wide open, gaping at the man behind me.

“We’re ready for you,” I call out, barely loud enough for him to hear but I know he does when tension takes hold of the fabric in my hands and threatens to pull me down with it. But it doesn’t. Not with Ronan behind me pulling as well, anchoring us to the roof, and in no time, I see dark hands come into view.

Nathaniel rushes over to grip one of his forearms and assist, while Ronan and I pull one more time together on the count of three. A deep grunt escapes through my lips, exhaustion and pain pouring out of me as Adonis releases the fabric. My body slightly slumps into Ronan’s as his cold, calloused hands briefly run across my waist and he whispers, “You did so good,” into my ear.

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