Page 8 of Desperate Valentine

The two of us head into the bathroom and while I grab his arms, he grabs his feet and we slowly carry him out of the tub and out onto the mattress.

None of this would have happened if Blaise would have just kept his disgusting hands to himself.

My nerves are shot. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think this is just a demented fragment of my imagination. A nightmare, even.

At some point, people will notice his absence, and I’m not so sure I’m capable of keeping such a dark secret once the police start poking and asking questions around campus.

If I turn myself in, what then? I can claim self-defense, but would that even hold up at this point?

“Cover the top with that sheet,” Jude suggests as we drop Blaise down onto the bed.

I let out a frustrated groan. “Fuck. I liked those.”

I watch him as he grabs the knife on the floor, still covered in dried blood, and slices down the center of the mattress.

“Again, I’ll take you shopping tomorrow. Don’t worry your pretty little self,” he says as he rolls Blaise into the crevice.

“Aww, you think I’m pretty?” I chuckle, shooting him a flirty smile.

Jesus, Veronica.

Chapter 3

Igrab the sheetfrom the corner and pull it around all four corners, looking to Jude once I’m finished.

“What now?” I ask with my hands planted on my hips.

“We load him into the back of the truck and I take him for a little drive out of town.”

“Should I start cleaning while you’re gone?”

“I’d suggest a deep clean for the bathroom. It doesn’t look too bad out here. I’ll help with whatever is left once I get back.”

“How do I get rid of the smell?” I ask.

“Lets just get him out of here. We’ll worry about the rest after, chatterbox.”

“You’re so rude.” I laugh as he opens the door and peers out before grabbing the mattress and sliding it out.

“Lift at the end. We don’t want him falling out right here.”

With one heave upwards, the mattress is on the back of the truck.

“I’ll be back in an hour, tops.”

“Should I be thanking you?” I tease.

“You can thank me later. We’re running out of time.”

Does this guy seriously think that I’m going to suck his dick in return for making this problem disappear for me?

I could have figured it out eventually.

Maybe.

***

A whole hour later, I finally scrub the last of the blood spatter in the bathroom and breathe a sigh of relief when the water finally runs clear under the faucet.

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