Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 109903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 550(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 550(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Drake's blood looked almost black where it'd dried in splashes on his shirt. Neil thought it was Drake's blood, anyway. It could have just as easily been Andrew's. For a moment it smelled fresh: sharp and hot and sour.
A few months ago Wymack called them to say Seth was dead of an overdose. Neil told Andrew that night he didn't understand the drive behind suicide. Andrew shrugged off his interpretation of it. That casual dismissal masked a deeper understanding. Andrew said Seth's self-destructive behavior was Seth's only way out. Neil hadn't understood then because he always had a way out. There was always a back door to slip out, a bus to catch, a ferry to ride. It might be awful and terrifying, but it still gave him dim hope for survival. He couldn't imagine life without that comfort.
Neil turned one hand over to see his unmarred wrist. His body bore countless scars from his life on the run, but none of them were self-inflicted. Neil dragged his blunt fingernails down his arm, watched pale red lines bloom on his skin, and forcibly redirected his attention back to the task at hand.
It didn't take long to find an outfit that fit. Finding Betsy turned out to be harder, and he kept his distance from her while she finished picking out groceries. Her basket was full enough Neil knew she was shopping for more than one meal. He almost asked how long she intended on staying in Columbia, but he didn't want to open up another conversation. He still had to deal with her for the next leg of the trip.
Betsy said nothing when they got in the car again, though, and took them to Exites. Neil went in alone with the team's p-card and bought a new practice stick. The price wasn't any easier to stomach today. Neil signed the receipt, stuffed his copy in his pocket with a mental note to apologize to Wymack for being so expensive, and brought the racquet out to the car. That left just one stop on their list.
After his childhood home in Baltimore, the Hemmicks' house was the last place in the world Neil wanted to be. Andrew's car was still parked at the curb, and Betsy pulled up behind it. She offered Neil a key, but Neil made no move to take it. His brain connected the pieces but refused to accept the final picture. Andrew wouldn't even let Aaron and Kevin drive his car.
"You do have a license, don't you?" Betsy asked.
Neil had a couple, but none had his current name on it. "Yes."
"Do you know the way back or will you follow?"
"You go ahead," Neil said, taking the key at last. "I have to get Andrew's knives."
"I'll wait here," Betsy said.
It was the answer Neil expected, if not the one he wanted, and he didn't waste time arguing with her. He crossed the lawn to the front door and pressed the doorbell. It took three tries before he finally heard movement on the other side of the door. Maria opened the door just wide enough for Neil to see half of her face. Neil didn't know if guilt made her defensive or if she expected some sort of violent retribution, but he didn't have the energy to deal with her stonewalling him. He hooked a hand around the door so she couldn't slam it without breaking his fingers and wedged his shoe into the crack as far as he could.
"Let me in," Neil said. "We left something here yesterday."
"I will get it for you," Maria said. "Tell me where to find it."
"In the bed you made for your own nephew," Neil said.
Maria flinched so hard she almost yanked the door shut. Before Neil had to fight his way in she let go of the knob and backed out of his way. She retreated well out of reach and wrapped her arms tight around her middle like she could squeeze herself into nothingness. Neil strode past her and went upstairs. Luther was nowhere in sight. Neil hoped he was behind bars somewhere.
He'd broken the bedroom door last night, and the arrival of techs and emergency workers had only worsened the damage. The door was ajar by several inches this morning, but someone had thought to tape a blanket to the doorframe like a makeshift curtain. Neil yanked it down so Luther and Maria would have to fix it again and tossed it off to one side. The door groaned when he pushed it open, and he flicked on the light.
Neil wasn't a stranger to death and he wasn't fazed by the sight of blood, but one glimpse at the rumpled bed gave him pause. The sheets were gone, but the mattress was stained a blackish red where Drake had bled. The paint and window curtains were still splattered in places. Neil looked at the headboard like he'd see Andrew's fingerprints engraved in the wood and swallowed hard against a dizzying nausea. He breathed through his mouth as he crossed the room to the bed.
The mattress was askew from all the rough handling last night, but the box spring looked untouched. Neil hooked his hands under it and lifted it off the frame. Andrew's bands were right where Neil left them, balancing on the wooden slats. He picked them up and let the box spring fall. He managed one step back, then stopped to look at the mess again. He wasn't sure how long he stood there staring at the blood before he realized what he was doing. He had to go before Betsy came looking for him. He didn't want Betsy to see this; he didn't want her to start asking questions. Neil didn't have any answers. All he had was anger and regret.
He took the stairs down as quickly as he could without tripping. Maria wasn't in the hall, and Neil left the front door wide open behind him. He passed between the cars so Betsy could see the bands he carried and went to the driver's side door of Andrew's car. He got the lock undone, climbed in, and slammed the door behind him harder than he should have. He knew Betsy was waiting for him to make the first move so he adjusted the seat and mirrors as quickly as he could. He slid the key into the ignition, but his hand seized up before he could turn it.