I hand her my phone and she reads the alert, her expression shifting from confusion to understanding to something else entirely.
"He's dead," she whispers.
"Looks that way."
She scrolls down, reading more. I watch her face as she takes it in. All of the details about the fight, the description of the suspect (young male, dark hair, tattoos on forearms), the police investigation.
When she looks up at me, there's no worry in her eyes. There's a thrill. I can see it in the way her pupils dilate, theway her breathing quickens, the flush creeping up her neck. The same dark excitement I'm feeling, mirrored back at me.
"They're looking for you," she says.
"Now that may be a problem."
"You killed him."
"I didn't mean to." The words come out flat. "But I did, shit happens."
She's quiet for a moment, still holding my phone, reading. Then she sets it down and looks at me with an intensity that makes me feel more alive than ever.
"We need to leave," she says. "Now. Before anyone connects you to this."
"Roxy, relax."
"No."
She's already moving, climbing off the bed, reaching for her clothes and I’m briefly distracted by her hot naked body. Those fucking tits are gonna be my addiction.
"We need to go. Different state, different direction. They'll be looking for you. Shit…"
I grab her wrist, pulling her back to me. "Roxy. Stop."
She does, but I can feel the tension vibrating through her. She’s worried they will take me away from her, but I won’t let that happen.
"Are you scared?" I ask.
She meets my eyes. "No."
"You should be, this is real now."
"I'm not." Her voice is steady and certain.
"I'm not scared of you. I'm not scared of what happened. I'm just…" She pauses, searching for words. "We crossed a line, you know that, right?"
"Obviously."
"And you're okay with that?"
I pull her closer, my hand sliding to the back of her neck. "The question is, are you okay with that? Because I don’t give a shit."
The question sits with her as she considers what to say. I don’t care about the outcome of the dead guy, I only care that we stay together and get the police away from us.
Before I can speak, she leans in and kisses me. Hard and fast. A kiss that tastes like acceptance and something that might be relief. When she pulls back, her eyes are bright.
"We're in this together now."
"Yeah we are."
"Murder," she says, testing the word. "We're murderers."
