So I guess it really is the last person you expect.
Ray wasn't a murderer. Not in my mind, anyway. However, in real life, it was the total opposite.
Mikey spilled easily. I'm surprised I didn't have to pull his own knife on him to get him to talk.
He went through the things I already knew at first: Bob had been Ray's dealer too. Really, that was how I even knew Bob. Ray was the one who introduced us when I first moved here; I thought the two had been friends.
I was wrong; I didn't know Ray hadn't been paying up when he was supposed to. And I guess, with me out of the picture for the last few weeks, Bob wasn't making that much money. I didn't think I had been his most loyal client, but I was. I knew Bob had a...temper, per sé, but I wouldn't have thought he'd stab Ray over some weed.
Again, I was wrong. So Ray returned the favor. Fourteen times.
Another thing I didn't know: Ray and Mikey had met at therapy. I had forgotten that Ray went occasionally.
So, who did Ray call? Mikey. And Mikey helped finish Bob off and dispose of the body. The blood in the kitchen had been Bob's. Well, mostly.
After I freaked, Mikey snatched up the knife.
"You're not real," he said slowly between hiccups.
"I'm real, Mikey. You can touch me," I stated cautiously, holding out my arm for him to touch.
"That doesn't matter. If you're real, you can feel things. What do you feel?"
"Shock." Where was he headed with this? It was starting to freak me out. "Where'd Ray go?"
"He went to the hospital, like any sane person. Why are you so shocked?"
I wasn't liking thks whole Q&A thing we had going.
"I'm going to go see Ray," I mumbled and scooted my chair back. "You can come, if you like."
I didn't know how I felt about the whole thing. Of course, I was brutally overwhelmed and, honestly, I was feeling more hurt because Ray had abandoned me. For Mikey.
"Yeah, just...don't say anything." We were both accessories, of course I wasn't going to say anything.
Neither of us had a car, so we walked. Silently.
boooo short chapter but its revealy so