killer, gbd (EDITING)

23

Grayson slept until the commotion started. So many people arrived at once, all packed in large black SUVs. They didn't ask many questions. They just needed to know where the bodies were and who they were.

Grayson saw to it that they would both have proper funerals. The next to arrive were two black cars, and I knew that one was for Grayson and I. The other must be for the hostage. Two vested men went into the house to retrieve him as I carried the box of clothes to the car.

Grayson met my eyes from the porch, and I could already tell this was going to be hard for him. He ducked back into the house, so I told the driver I would be back and went to go help Grayson.

Both Ken and Susan had been secured into stretchers, a white sheet draped over their bodies. As they carried them out, Grayson and I had a moment to say our goodbyes, but even then it didn't feel real, it didn't feel right.

The while ride, Grayson couldn't turn his head to face me, but he reached out for my hand. I held it in my lap and let him mourn without bother. I knew there was another wave of sadness coming, but for now my numbness would have to do.

The driver took us to the private jet, the agents that drive the boy hauled him in first. A figure stood at the base of the stairs, hands in the pockets of his black dress pants. His paleness nearly matched his white turtleneck. His blonde hair perfectly placed, he was easy to identify, Joey.

I dreaded seeing him, I didn't want Grayson to have to deal with him. I didn't know how to act with him. I looked to Grayson but didn't get a returned glance, he got out of the car and I followed not far behind.

Joey watched him closely as he passed by, but didn't acknowledge him. Grayson took half a second to glance over his shoulder before moving up into the plane.

Before I could do the same, Joey stepped in front of the stairs. My eyes narrowed. "You're covered in blood," His brows raised, not in disgust, it was something else that I couldn't quite pick out. "Your own?" He asks, his eyes settling on mine after searching my body for too long to be comfortable.

"No," I say, finally taking in the sight of myself. It was clear I had been kneeling in blood, from my knees down was dark with fired blood. My arms were the same. It's Ken's blood, Susan's blood.

I suddenly felt a lump for in my throat. I felt like I was closing in ok my self. I felt trapped. I wanted to be clean again, I wanted them to be alive again.

"I- um... fuck I-" Before I could correct myself, Joey put a hand on my shoulder.

"I'll get you wipes, clean clothes," He gave me a soft smile and side stepped, clearing the way. His hand moved to the small of my back, but I didn't have it in myself to yell or swat him away.

When we got up into the plane Grayson dug daggers into the hand on my waist. "Sit tight, I'll get you something to clean up," I sat in the seat across from Grayson. He eyes went to my eyes, the retreated out the window.

The plane lurched into motion and Joey came back with wipes and a small trash bin. I took the wipes with a nod and started scrubbing my skin. I started with my legs, and continued to my arms. Tears burned my eyes as my skin became raw from the friction. But I couldn't shake the feeling that their blood was on my hands, in more than one sense.

When Grayson was finished he put a hand over mine, bringing me back to life. He leaned closer, beckoning me to the edge of my seat. He took my chin in his hand and took a fresh wipe to my face. My eyes were glued to his as they leaked pitifully.