Page 7 of Sweet Revenge
He pulled the gun out of its holster again, saying nothing as she followed him down the hall. When he reached the kitchen, he calmly turned on the lights. It was worse in the light. Blood spattered the cabinets and counter tops. It pooled under their bodies in dark puddles and oozed its way under the table.
She wasn’t sure what reaction she’d been expecting from him, but the measured control on his face when he turned to her surprised her. So different from the boy she had known.
Gripping her upper arm, he led her back to the living room, waiting a beat before he said, “Who did that?”
“I have no idea. I only got here a few minutes before you did.”
He studied her, and she had no idea if he believed her or actually suspected her of murdering her own parents. He pulled out his phone, dialing and pressing it to his ear.
“What are you doing?”
“I found O’Brian,” he said, ignoring her. “I need you to meet me over here. Now.”
He hung up before whoever it was had time to respond and slipped his phone back in his pocket. “I didn’t know you still spoke to your parents.”
“My mom, and no one did.”
He nodded. “Did you check the rest of the house?”
“No.”
“Stay here.”
He climbed the stairs, and she could hear his footsteps creaking through the floor, hear the click as he opened doors to all the bedrooms, the scrape of closet doors opening and closing. Her lower lip trembled as another car pulled into the driveway, and she bit it—hard. She would not break down here.
More heavy footfalls on the stairs, and the door swung in on Finn, the second Callahan son. Finn stopped abruptly when he saw her standing in the middle of the living room alone, hands, arms, and knees smeared with blood.
“Kitchen,” Declan said as he descended the stairs, and she clenched her hands into fists to keep them from shaking as they paced down the hallway.
“Fuck me,” she heard Finn say. “Who?” he demanded when they were both back in the living room, and Evie wasn’t sure if he was asking her or Declan.
“I don’t know. Yet,” Declan said, eyes never leaving hers. “Call McGee to come get them and get Aidan and James out here to knock on doors. This whole block is syndicate families. Maybe somebody saw something.”
“They might not want to talk.”
Declan’s voice was a threat. “They don’t have a choice.” He waited until Finn left to make his calls before speaking again. “Where are you staying?”
“Nowhere. I just…” She huffed out a breath.
Her whole body tingled, like daggers stabbing at her skin from the inside out. She had to get the fuck out of here.
“I just got here.”
He was silent for a minute. “You can stay at Glenmore House tonight then.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I can stay at a hotel.”
“You can’t.”
Her head snapped up, eyes narrowing on his face. Why the fuck was he so calm when she felt like she wanted to crawl out of her skin?
“And why the hell not?”
“Because you’re covered in blood.”
The simple sentence deflated her, and she looked down at herself. Hands caked with dried blood, more of it smeared across her arms and soaked into the hem of her dress. A fresh wave of nausea swamped her.
“Not Glenmore House, then. I have an apartment I keep in Center City. It’s closer than the house. Private access so no one will see you. You can shower and sleep. We can figure out the rest in the morning.”
