Chapter 24 #2
“So, what happens now?” Lee asked, her tone beginning to sound more and more stern with every word that fell from her mouth. “We confess to everything? Hope that it helps us in some way or another if we just tell the truth?”
Morgan shook her head. “Of course not. You don’t quit the game just because the other team is four goals up. You keep playing.”
Lee didn’t say it aloud, nor did she feel like she needed to, but she didn’t feel much like playing any longer.
And yet, at the same time, Morgan was right.
To confess was to allow the worst to happen, perhaps months, or even years, before it was destined to happen.
No, she didn’t wish to keep playing the game, but she had to.
So, despite everything in her wanting to tell Morgan that she was done, she instead, did the opposite, and nodded along.
“If you can’t promise me that we’ll be fine, could you at least tell me when you…
” she paused, as a grimace met her features.
Even thinking about saying what she wanted to say out loud made her nauseous.
“It was before Edward Beckett,” Morgan sighed, sensing Lee’s next words before she said them, running a hand through her hair as she leaned forward on the couch, looking uncomfortable as ever.
“I only said that I couldn’t promise my fingerprints won’t be found because well…
how could I promise something like that when we both know that I had my fingerprints taken for assaulting that fucking idiot Dylan?
I didn’t want to lie to you, not anymore.
I never wanted to lie to you in the first place.
The least that I can do now is be honest.”
Lee opened her mouth to speak, closing it again when she thought better of saying what she was about to say next.
Who was he? The question haunted her mind, as if the ghost of the victim himself was behind the backs of her eyelids, despite having never even seen a photo of him.
She assumed that the news had presented a photo whilst she was watching, and yet, her tunnel vision must have disregarded it completely.
“Were you careful? How careful? I don’t want to know how you…
do things,” Lee said, waving a hand at her last remark, as if she could bat the words away like nuisance flies.
“I just want to know how likely it is that this will come back to bite the both of us.”
“I…” Morgan said, leaning back against the couch as she placed her hands over her face in exasperation.
“I’m always careful. You can’t be in this line of work for years and not be careful.
I wore gloves just like we did with Edward, and I only took them off afterwards,” she said, slowly lowering her hands as she pushed her body forwards once again to the edge of the couch, looking up at Lee, now.
“But in relation to how likely it is that it will come back to bite us…? Truthfully? I don’t know. ”
Retreating to the kitchen, Lee Holmes felt the tears prick at the back of her eyes once again, tilting her head back as she traveled through the hallway to her destination, attempting to force her emotions back inside herself.
The only bright side to becoming afraid of being arrested was getting her steps in.
As Lee Holmes paced up and down the short space between her kitchen sink and her countertop, she felt the nerves travel up through her stomach and into her esophagus, as if the fear itself might choke her.
Whilst Morgan was undeniably to blame for her anxiety, her tunnel-vision seemed equally as culpable at present time.
The cause of her anxiety stepped into the room with a tremendous huff, taking a seat upon one of the bar stools that Lee Holmes had deemed a part of her anxiety-driven obstacle course. “Pacing will only make it worse, baby. Please, just sit down.”
Lee Holmes would sooner run a marathon, or six, before she sat down.
She did, however, halt her pacing for just a moment, exhaling a huff of her own, as she turned away from the kitchen sink to face Morgan.
“Are you fucking serious? You’re telling me what to do now?
After you assaulted Dylan and had your fingerprints taken?
The same fingerprints that could now be linked to a dead fucking body? You said he wouldn’t press charges.”
There it was, that animalistic stare again, as Morgan’s pupils expanded.
“I can’t believe that you’re more upset about the fact that I got into a fight and had my fingerprints taken than I don’t know…
the fact I actually fucking murdered somebody in our living room.
A somebody you helped dispose of,” she said, exhaling rapidly before inhaling once again, finding her bearings as she pinched the tip of her nose.
“Look, baby, I’m sorry. I know that’s not fair.
I shouldn’t have said that. I’m nervous too, okay?
Believe me, I never would have touched that asshole if I knew this would happen. ”
“Which one?” Lee choked out, sarcastically, resuming her pacing. She could hear herself getting agitated now, but her own stupidity combined with Morgan’s recklessness had come to the surface and began to bubble, and there was little she could do to stop it.
Attempting to reason with her inner self, she reminded herself that whilst Morgan had potentially implicated them both, she had also defended her friend, Sienna.
In addition to that, Lee couldn’t deny that she had been happy about it upon finding out the truth.
It was only now, when things hadn’t gone in their favor with the fear of Morgan’s fingerprints being compared to the recent crime scene that she had become irate.
Lee allowed herself to exhale, pausing her pacing once again, or terminating it entirely, she wasn’t sure.
“I’m sorry,” she said, turning to face Morgan just as she had done before.
“I made my choice when I helped you, just like you made a choice to help Sienna. I only wish you had told me first before you did it. Perhaps we could have figured something out together.”
“I know, baby,” Morgan replied, her voice softer than before. “I guess I was trying to respect your wishes about not getting involved. What I can say is that even if this body is tied to me, it won’t be tied to Edward Beckett.”
Lee raised an eyebrow inquisitively, despite no longer looking at Morgan directly. Her heart rate was still elevated, but it was going down gradually, and at present time, gradually felt like an achievement in itself. “How can you be so sure?”
“I just know," Morgan responded immediately, "Let’s just say the two murders have one key difference between one another, and leave it at that.”
Lee didn’t want to leave it at that, but she did, if only to decrease her stress levels and steady her heart rate.
“You know, most people buy their girlfriends flowers as a gift as opposed to beating up their friends’ boyfriends,” Lee joked, allowing the atmosphere in the room to settle ever so slightly.
The fact of the matter was that there was little either of them could do at present time to mitigate the situation.
Perhaps all they could do was laugh, should Lee have any ounce of laughter left in her.
In the confines of their apartment, Morgan did exactly that. “Well maybe I’m not like other girlfriends. I’ll buy you flowers and beat someone up for you. I'm the whole fuckin' package.”
The words that sat between them allowed Lee Holmes to reclaim a fragment of her mental strength, enough to cease her pacing and take a seat beside Morgan.
The truth of the matter was that should Lee Holmes find herself in front of a mirror, she wouldn’t see horns, no, but she wouldn’t see a victim, either.
She threw that opportunity away the moment she decided to help Morgan.
Morgan Finch was not a victim either, despite her troubled past, of which Lee still knew little about.
Perhaps the both of them were always predators.
Perhaps Lee Holmes was never the prey. She couldn’t be angry at Morgan for having always been a lion, especially if she had become a wolf in sheep's clothing herself.
All that she could do was play the game.