“You don’t have to talk to me about underfunded social services. I already figured that out when I was homeless and couldn’t find a place to live. So what are you going to do about Easton?”
“We need to call the police first. They’ll send someone out to find the body. We’ll have to tell Marcus and Valencia the truth, because we might need them to help bring in Easton. That’s the only way—”
I don’t hear what else he says, because Easton doesn’t need to be brought in.
He’s standing in the doorway to the kitchen.
I didn’t even hear him come home. I didn’t hear a door open or close.
Has he been here this whole time? I try to think of where he could have been hiding.
Agent Grant stops speaking and follows my gaze. But Easton is quicker.
I don’t even get a scream out before I see the small utility knife in his hand.
“No!”
It’s too late. Easton drives it into Agent Grant’s neck in two quick, violent stabs.
Blood shoots out in a thick stream and lands on the kitchen island with a splatter. Another jet shoots out before Agent Grant’s shaky hand goes up, trying to stop the bleeding. He reaches for his gun, but Easton moves again, this time grabbing his arm and shoving it away.
Miles is in the living room.
“Miles! Run!” I scream.
Agent Grant falls to the ground and more blood spills out in a quickly expanding pool. His face goes pale. Easton steps over him.
And finally I realize I have to run, too.
I leap up, but my shoe lands in the blood spreading out around Agent Grant and I lose my balance. I catch myself on the chair, managing to stay upright, then run for the back door.
This is it. He’s going to kill me!
“Nate!” Easton’s voice is so loud in the quietness of the kitchen. I unlock the door and turn to see where he is. But he hasn’t moved.
Because he has Agent Grant’s gun in his hand.
“Remember how good a shot I am?” he asks with a grin.
I do remember. His target at the shooting range was way better than mine. He flicks the gun in the direction of the chair I was just sitting in.
“Sit back down. We need to have a discussion before Mom gets home.”
I glance back down at Agent Grant. He’s dead. His hand has fallen away from his neck, and whatever blood is still spilling out of him is doing so slowly. His brown eyes stare into the distance.
Oh God. There’s so much blood on the floor.
And I haven’t heard Miles in the house. No door opening, no running.
“Miles!” I call out.
“HEY!” Easton snaps me out of my daze. “Sit.”
I do as he says. My body tense and hands shaking. My heart beats like it’s trying to tell me torun!Easton pulls out the chair Agent Grant was using and sits, being careful not to get his shoes in the blood on the floor. He places the butt of the gun on the table so the business end is leveled at me. His finger on the trigger.
“That’s the second person I’ve had to kill because you couldn’t keep your fucking mouth shut.”
Second person. JT was the first, which means Miles is still alive.
