Page 60 of The Lie
Damon’s eyes widen as he looks down to where Roman’s hand sits against his belly. Roman slowly peels his fingers away from the black handle of the knife he’d been holding. I stumble back a little with Roman as I watch Damon drop his knife and grab the one buried deep inside him.
I stand in shock as Hunter rushes back inside after putting the bag in his car and sees the scene for the first time.
“Fuck.Fuck.” Hunter looks at me, then Roman.
The cut on my arm throbs as blood trickles down my arm. I look to my hand and see drops of blood on the dirty carpet.
I close my eyes. What do we do? We need to call the cops, and we need help getting Damon to a hospital. The knife’s still in; he can survive this. This was self-defense. After all those crime shows I watched, I know they will let Roman off. He was protecting me. I open my eyes and see Damon sputtering blood.Fuck.
“Close the door,” I say to Hunter. My voice is calm now as I try to remove myself from the situation. If I give in to the fear and anger, I might lose it, and I can’t. I need to be strong. We all do.
Hunter doesn’t question me—he closes it.
“Fucker, you’re going to rot in jail for this,” Damon croaks, looking down at the knife.
I watch as he pulls it free, my mouth dropping open as he starts to bleed all over the carpet. The number one rule is to not remove the object. Is he crazy? Does he want to die?
Damon tries to get up and groans. “Call an ambulance.”
I hold myself still. I can’t move. If I do, I will crumble and I can’t do that. I need to be resilient. I need to fix this for Roman.
Roman doesn’t say anything; he just wavers beside me. Hunter presses his hand over my arm, and I hiss from the pain. Looking up at him, his big, brown eyes let me know everything will be okay.
But will it?
TWENTY-FIVE
MILA
“Mila, we need to go.”
Hunter pulls on my arm, but I resist. “We can’t. This is a crime scene, and if we leave, Roman is the first person they’ll look for.”
Roman shakes his head and lets out a strangled cry. I reach for him. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
He just killed his father, and although he’d been defending me, I know that’s something he will carry with him for the rest of his life. Even though his father was an asshole, Roman never should have been forced to harm, much less kill, his own flesh and blood.
“I have a record, fighting…they won’t believe me.” Roman runs his hands down his face, leaving a smear of blood. I think it’s mine, but I don’t tell him.
“It was self-defense. We were both here. They will know it was,” Hunter reassures him as he pulls out his phone.
Roman grabs it before Hunter can dial any numbers. “No, no. I have to run. I have to leave. They’ll lock me up. Everything bad always happens to me.” Roman stumbles. His fever has kicked in, and the adrenaline has run out, and he’s collapsing in front of me.
My heart breaks.
Everything bad always happens to me.
I look to Damon, who has stopped breathing. It’s strange, this out-of-body feeling I get when I see him lying motionless.
“Don’t run. Go to Hunter’s house. I’ll stay here and call the cops. I’ll say I stabbed him, that it was self-defense.” I point to my arm, then I touch the back of my head where I hit it, and my cheek. I hiss at the pain. It hurts to touch.
“I can’t leave you here alone, Mila,” Hunter protests. “You can’t take the fall; you didn’t do this. It was self-defense. I’ll say I did it.”
“No, Roman’s right. Everything bad always happens to him. But starting today, no more. I will say I stabbed Damon. We just need a plan.”
I glance around the room—it’s a mess. Then I look Hunter over; he’s not bleeding. Roman, I do a more thorough inspection of. His hands…does he have any knife wounds? Is he bleeding?
No, thankfully. I shake my head, and the pain hits me. “Fuck,” I grip my head, and Hunter moves to hold me, but I push him away.
