“You’re enjoying this,” I said.
“Oh, I don’t enjoywhyI’m here, but I do enjoy a good before-and-after. You know, like those rug-cleaning videos with the pressure washers. I fucking love those rug-cleaning videos.” He paused, lifting a blood-soaked towel between gloved fingers. “Yeesh. He really went to town, huh?”
I glanced at Halo. He had been so quiet that I almost forgot he was still here. He stood near the window, wearing the clothes Kade had brought: plain grey joggers and a black t-shirt. His own were gone, already sealed in a heavy-duty trash bag, tagged and stored for disposal like evidence that couldn’t be allowedto exist. He looked clean now, but not calm. He hadn’t spoken much since it happened.
As the smell of bleach started to overpower the metallic tang of blood, I watched Halo watchme.
There was something raw in him now. Like killing Parrish hadn’t released the pressure, but instead it had just redirected it.
Kade glanced between the two of us and wisely turned up his music.
Only an hour later, the apartment was… neutral. No more blood, no more broken glass. Even the dent in the wall had been spackled. It wasn’t any cleaner than it had been before; it wasexactlyhow it had been before.
Kade stripped off his gloves, stretched, and Halo shook his extended hand.
“Your girl’s place is clean… but you owe me, man.”
“I know,” Halo said.
Kade turned to me and smiled again, softer this time. “Hey, if you ever want to repaint in here, maybe throw in a few plants… You know, get rid of the murder vibe? I know a guy.”
I couldn’t help it, I laughed. Just once, sharp and short and slightly hysterical, but it felt good to laugh. Even just a little.
“Thanks,” I said, “I think.”
Kade gave a little salute and wandered out like he hadn’t just erased a murder. When the door clicked shut behind him, silence fell again.
Halo didn’t move.
“Will you stay?” I asked, barely able to bring my voice above a whisper.
He just looked at me for what felt like forever. “I’ll be on the roof. If anything happens, I will be right here.”
“No… I mean, will you stay here?”
He shook his head. “No.”
I sighed and put my head down, closing my eyes tightly. The thought of being here alone made me sick.
“Can we just go to your apartment?”
“No.”
“I can’t stay here by myself, Halo. I’m really…” I didn’t want to say scared, but maybe that’s exactly what it was. Shaken up? Traumatized?
“I can’t keep you safe if I stay here,” he explained. “I can’t afford to be distracted or complacent.”
I crossed the room slowly, and his eyes never left my face. His hands were still raw, bruised, and swelling.
“I trust you,” I said.
“I don’t trust myself.” His voice was so quiet I almost missed it.
“Please.”
His resolve softened, but only mildly.
“Okay. Tomorrow, we have to go… I can’t let them try to come after you again. I’m going to go after them.”
