Chapter 56
Chapter Fifty-Six
JULIET
“Can you stand?” Blake asks.
"Yeah, I think so," I mumble.
His hands are gentle but urgent, as they run quickly over my arms and body, searching for injuries. His touch grounds me, sensual even in the chaos, stirring that deep craving for him despite everything.
Blake pulls back, his gray eyes calm, but his face looks pale under the lamp's sickly glow.
"We need to call the police," he says, as he reaches for his phone in his pocket.
But before he can dial, a knock sounds on the door, sharp and unexpected. It makes us both freeze. Tension coils tight in my stomach as the rap sounds again, cutting through the heavy silence like a warning.
Blake picks up the gun and stands, his body tense. He glances at me with a protective look, before, gun in hand, he goes to open the door. The wood groans on its hinges, and the night air rushes in cool and fresh, carrying that earthy scent from the fields.
A tall, broad giant of a man in a dark coat steps in. He is bald and so completely expressionless that his face looks like a mask. He glances around the room. The light catches his shaved head as his eyes fall on Carolyn’s dead body. He remains completely emotionless at the gruesome sight.
“Who are you?” Blake asks briskly, and I can see that even though his arm is lowered, he is ready to shoot.
“I’m the clean-up guy," he replies, matter-of-factly, no pause, like this is routine. He jerks his head in my direction. “She hired me to get rid of the body."
He doesn't know the difference, or maybe he does, but either way, he clearly doesn't care. His gaze flicks again to the corpse, and I feel a chill run down my spine.
For a moment, both Blake and I are too shocked to do anything, but then Blake speaks.
“No need. We can handle the —"
But I cut him off quick, my finger pressing across his lips, soft and urgent. I shake my head slowly, begging with my eyes, wide and pleading. Whispering, “Don’t,” the word hangs between us.
The man looks at me. “Well? Up to you, but I don’t return money paid to me.”
“Go ahead. Do it,” I croak.
Without hesitating or asking any further questions, he pulls out a large black bag from under his coat and unfolds it with a rustle, the plastic crinkling loudly in the quiet. We watch him stand over Carolyn’s body and make his calculations.
In his voluminous bag, he has all kinds of chemicals, which he proceeds to use to wipe off every trace of her blood. He works fast, no words, then he rolls her corpse into the bag with a thud. The zipper rasps brashly as he seals it and slings it easily over his shoulder like it's nothing.
My mind goes blank. This is it. Blake and I are now part of a murder cover-up.