Page 26 of Collapse

Hansen was rummaging through cabinets, gathering things. I sat on one of the counter stools and grabbed a napkin before taking the nearest apple that lay in a bowl on the kitchen island. Didn’t even care that I was being rude.

“What are you doing?” I asked after a little while.

“Making something to eat. You said you were starving.”

I swallowed the piece of apple in my mouth and put the rest of it down already half eaten. Iwasstarving. One beer and half of Alan’s energy bar hadn’t done much for me.

“When they’re done, they’ll make an anonymous call to the police,” I said, watching him carefully. I couldn’t see his face as his back was turned to me, but I could see the slightest tension in his shoulders.

“I know.”

“The Kirbys will handle it on their end.”

“I know.”

“And we need to burn these clothes.”

He stopped what he was doing and sighed before moving over to the refrigerator. There was an ocean of vegetables on the counter making me wonder what else he needed. He glanced at me as he found some beef, and he didn’t look particularly happy with me. That wasn’t new, though.

“What is it you want, Evans?”

I got as far as opening my mouth to say something, but he wasn’t finished.

“Because I think digging bullets out of dead bodies to avoid ballistics and otherwise cleaning up a crime scene should just about cover my silence, don’t you?”

“I just—”

“Need to read my mind to be certain?”

Get the fuck out of my head.I flinched at the memory. Apparently, it didn’t go by unnoticed.

“Sorry.” His voice managed to sound both contrite and pissed off at the same time.

I didn’t respond. Merely watched him open the packet, his movements quick and angry. That I couldn’t begrudge him. He was entitled to that anger and frustration. His life had been turned upside-down quickly. This wasn’t how he did things. I had to remember that. Yet he had helped–and it seemed he was going to keep his mouth shut.

I pursed my lips. “Do you need any help?”

“You don’t cook.”

I rolled my eyes and got off the counter stool. “Doesn’t mean I can’t.” That was a lie, and he seemed to know it by the look of his doubtful eyes as I came around the island.

“What?” I said as I stubbornly washed my hands of dirt in the kitchen sink. I didn’t even flinch at having held the apple with only a napkin before. I was too hungry.

“Fine.” He gave in as I stretched my clean hands toward him. “Can you chop an onion?” He held a large yellow specimen out at me, knife in the other hand.

I narrowed my eyes at him, but took the proffered food and tool and brought it over to the island where I found a wooden cutting board.

“Of course I can,” I said. “You may think I’m a fool, but I’m not an idiot.”

I heard him stop whatever he was doing behind me. “I don’t think I’ve ever called you a fool.” He sounded a little astounded.

I gave a snort of derision and cut the onion in two, one half flopping sideways next to my hand. The strong sharp smell of it instantly wafted up. “Listen, I know you’ve hated me a while, and today hasn’t exactly improved your view, but don’t take it out on the Community just because I piss you off.” I didn’t really know why this was coming out of me now, but it had been a long time coming. The potential problems he could cause only to spite me were substantial.

He didn’t answer me. Instead, he remained quiet a while.

“Is that what you think?”

I heard him put something down on the counter next to the fridge before he walked over and stood right behind me. He placed his hands on the counter top on either side of me. Suddenly, my heart was beating faster. I resolutely chopped the ends off one of the onion halves, peeling the outer layers off.

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