Koby immediately steps forward, pulling a set of keys from his pocket. “Take her to my place. Spare bedroom’s all yours.”
I hesitate out of habit. I’m always with them until the end. Until the cleanup crew is done and the evidence is disposed of. I never leave early... but the thought of having Bianca watch us go through the motions, or worse—sending her away while I help here—makes me reach for the keys.
“Go,” Carter says as if he knows where my head is. “She needs you. We’ll handle this.”
“Alright. Thanks, Boss.” My hands drop to Bianca’s hips as I lift her into my arms.
She doesn’t protest, doesn’t open her eyes as I carry her out of the apartment, probably terrified she’ll catch another glimpse of Vaughn’s lifeless body.
She’s silent the whole ride to Koby’s, staring out the window, lost in her own head. I carry her inside, flip the lights on and take her straight into the bathroom.
“I’ll draw you a bath,” I say, setting her gently on the edge of the tub. “It’ll help.”
“Is there a lot of blood on me?”
Too fucking much. Blood and brain matter cakes her hair. There’s more on her sweater, her cheek, neck...
“Good point. We’ll rinse it off in the shower.”
She nods and gets up, heading for the showcase shower. I help her out of her clothes, throwing them straight into the bin. Bianca waits while I turn on the faucet. I’m reeling inside, the sight of her, sad, resigned, and stained with death, tearing me a new one.
“Come here.” I guide her into the shower.
She closes her eyes, head down, arms hugging her middle. I start at the top, letting the water rinse her hair and watching the crimson streaks snake down her shoulders. Goosebumps rise on her sun-kissed skin despite the heat.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers.
“For what? You have nothing to be sorry for.”
Her chin trembles. “He shot himself. Right there. It’s—”
“It’s not your fault.” I grip her chin, tipping her back. “Look at me, baby. He made his choice. You didn’t do this.”
She doesn’t look convinced, staring at the red-running water at her feet.
“Close your eyes,” I tell her, threading my fingers through her wet hair until the water turns clear, the last traces of blood swirling down the drain. “You’re clean now, Summer.”
She blinks at me. “Thank you.”
“Let’s get you into the bath now. Relax for a bit.”
I kneel by the tub once she’s in, grab a washcloth, and run it gently over her arms and shoulders.
“I was so scared,” she whispers.
“I know,” I say, my throat tight. “But you were brave, baby. So fucking brave. I’m proud of you.”
I wash her hair and massage her scalp while her breathing evens out, the tension ebbing away. We sit there for a long time.The water’s cool before I wrap her in a towel and carry her to Koby’s spare bedroom.
The bed is made, the sheets crisp and clean as I tuck Bianca in, brushing damp strands from her face.
Her fingers catch mine when I inch away. “Don’t leave.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” I strip out of my clothes, climbing in beside her.
She flips to face me and burrows her nose into my neck, inhaling deeply. Pulling the covers tighter around her, my fingers skim the length of her spine, up and down, up and down for ages before her breathing slows, exhaustion pulling her under. I press a kiss to her temple, perfectly aware I’m not getting a wink of sleep tonight.
The moment my eyes close, the evening replays inside my head on a loop.
