“Come again?” I ask, although I know exactly what she wants. But does she?
“You have to help me hide the body. Mama depends on me. I can’t go to jail. I need your help. I don’t know what to do.”
She’s running on fumes right now, adrenaline making her think erratically, frantically.
“So, I help you and you let me free. Is that the deal?”
“Yes. If you help me hide the body, you and I can part ways.” She licks her lips. “I mean, once you’re free, it’s not like I can chain you back up.” She takes another step closer to me. “Please. I don’t know what else to do and have nowhere else to turn.” She’s got her hands clutched in front of her, and I have no doubt they’re shaking. “We never have to see each other again,” she says. “We’ll go our separate ways and you know I’ll never bother you again, because you will know what I’ve done. I just…. Please, help me.”
I study her for a minute. I know it hurts her to say please to me, maybe to even ask anything of me. This girl is not a person used to asking anyone for help.
Although I’m making her wait for my response, I already know I’m going to help her.
“I’m going to need to be free first.”
She nods, and I see this weight lift off her when it’s clear I’m going to help her.
Her gaze is full of fear. She’s in shock. Fuck, why do I hate seeing her like this? Why do I feel this tightening in my belly?
Why do I want to protect her above all costs?
She’s down on her haunches in front of me, holding the lock that secures me, staring at it, her hand visibly shaking. Then she blinks rapidly and whispers, “The key.” She lifts her head and stares into my eyes. “Shit,” she whispers.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, unable to fully hide my annoyance.
“Nothing. I just have to find the key.” She stands. “I will,” she mumbles, turning to go back up the stairs. “It’s probably in his pocket,” I hear her say, but I don’t think she’s talking to me. She’s terrified of going back up there. I want to tell her not to worry about it, but I need free. We need that fucking key. Hopefully, she’s not wrong and she really did kill that sack of shit.
It pisses me off that I can’t do anything other than sit here and wait, but that’s it. If she does set me free, will I truly agree to her deal? I’ll definitely help her hide the body, but letting her go? I’m not sure I want to do that. If there was ever anyone who needed someone to take care of her, it’s this girl. The question is, will I try to step up and be that person?
What in the fuck am I going to do with her?Chapter ElevenLangleyMy hands are shaking and my heart is racing as I walk down the hallway and toward the bedroom, where I’ve left Einstein. I feel like I’m going to pass out as a reach out and place a hand on the wall, steadying myself, stopping for a second to get my bearings.
My mind is a jumbled mess, thoughts and actions, worries and fears racing around inside me, chaos ensuing. I can hear Mama’s machine beeping, and the fact that she’s unaware of any of what’s going on calms me momentarily.
“You got this. Just get the damn key and go back down there. He can help you. He can help you clean this mess up.”
I take a deep breath in and exhale it out slowly before I start moving again. And then I step into the bedroom. I don’t know what I expect to see, maybe Einstein no longer lying there, the idea I have killed him just a figment of my imagination. But he’s there, his lifeless body unmoving, blood pooling, becoming cold and thick around his head.
I feel like I’m going to throw up, and I clutch my stomach, but there’s no time to be weak right now. I have to be strong for me and Mama. I have to be strong so we can get through this.
I exhale once more and walk over to where he’s lying.
His eyes are open as he stares at the ceiling, his pupils dilated. God, were his eyes closed before I left? Have they always been like that? Is that what happens when someone dies?
All these questions race through my mind. I shake my head to push them away. God, I’m going to throw up.
I get down on my knees and start rifling through his pockets but come up empty. I curse internally and lean back on my heels, staring at him and then seeing a glint of silver around his neck. I push his shirt down and see he’s wearing a chain, and as I pull it up, I’m praying like hell there’s a key attached to the end of it.