Page 37 of Run Little Killer
"I swear, I won't tell a soul," Kurt stammers as he steps out of the closet, hesitantly plucking his phone from Nix's fingers
I tuck my own away and advance in their direction, careful to not step in any gore on the way.
Kurt looks petrified– god only knows what Nix said to him. Mav seems fine for now, but whenever Kurty boy here gets to talk to his boss– and no doubt unloads about what played out– Mav will definitely want the long story.
And unfortunately, Lennon’s part of the long story now.
The wheels of a mop bucket scrape and squeak as she pushes it by the handle towards the mess. She lets out a squeal as she rolls over something in her path on her way to the blood puddles, water splashing against the concrete.
Aside from the dried blood staining her clothes, you'd never know she stabbed the fuck out of someone and toed the line of crashing out just an hour ago. Guess that just proves you never know what hellscapes are playing out behind someone’s built up walls– but little by little, they’re already starting to come down.
And the more I see of the real her, the more addicted I’m becoming to her brand of crazy.
16
LENNON
Warning: this chapter contains a detailed on page SA.
The room tilts as I push up to stand, my legs wobbling beneath me when I step forward.
"See ya tomorrow!" my co-worker Holly calls as Kevin slings an arm across her shoulders, guiding her out the main entrance. I grip onto the bar with one hand to steady myself, drawing in a deep breath as I pull my belt bag overhead with the other.
I didn’t even drink that much. I must've just stood up too fast or something.
But I swear my legs feel like they’re growing heavier with each stride I take across the room. I come to a sudden halt as a wave of nausea rolls through me. Blood rushes from my head, body swaying as I stumble forward.
Something isn’t right.
"You okay, Lennon?" Shawn asks, his voice strangely distant.
"I- I'm..." I stammer, my thoughts thick as I try to articulate my words, glancing back over my shoulder. "I'm fine. I just need some fresh air."
"Why don't you have a seat, I'll get you a glass of water," he offers, pacing across the now empty bar.
"No, it's okay," I mumble, turning my head a little too quickly. My stomach swoops and I pitch forward, a blunt pain radiating from my hip as I stumble into a table, hands bracing on the edge to steady myself. "How many shots of gin did you give me?" I chuckle.
Shawn folds his arms across his body, lips curving into a sinister smile. "Just the right amount it seems."
What did he just say?
Heat creeps across my skin, body flushing as I swallow roughly and push off from the table. "I have to go."
"Hey now," he drawls as he juts a hand out, fingers curling around my bicep and holding me in place. "What's the rush?"
My pulse ratchets higher, beat after beat pounding in my ears as black spots cloud my vision and I try to yank my arm away. "Let go."
"Don't play hard to get, Lennon," he growls, jerking me against him.
"Stop it," I say more firmly, trying harder to shove him away.
His grip tightens, tension lacing my muscles as a sense of alarm rockets through me, my skin erupting in hot prickles.
"I saw your phone. I know what you want, you little whore." His voice is harsh, his hands sliding down my body, cupping me through my yoga pants. "I can give it to you right now."
All the air leaves my lungs in a single panicked woosh, blood rushing from my head as my mind spins. "What did you do to me?" I ask, each word harder to form than the last as I find that I’m barely able to hold myself up anymore.
"Just something to help you relax," he murmurs, my feet tripping over each other as he drags me alongside him.
