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Chapter 34
Poison
The dead always keeps you awake.
––––––––
If that fucker wasgoing to die in the most unorthodox way, then I would have rather it were me who blew his head from his shoulders. Disgusting twit.
The door to my apartment opened, and I stepped to the side, allowing Anita to enter first. We don't speak the same as on the way back, not even a question to ask what we just witnessed. Maybe it's because he ended up dead either way, and Anita wanted him alive. I had everything wiped from cameras, prints, or anything that could detect we were there before sending an anonymous tip to Detective Gear. I could've had my clean-up crew do the work, but I’ll leave that mess for the ones in his jurisdiction, who were under his command. They’ll deal with the catastrophe when Hollow City finds out what their ‘devoted’ mayor was up to.
I've seen things in my line of work, but never have I ever experienced a man's head exploding right before my eyes. It left me with questions roaming my mind, along with confusion and a sick twist all in one.
However, it's not the only thing that's bothering me.
I was deeply sorry about her death.
I bite down on my jaw as that same painful ache grows in my chest, the one that always appears when I think of her.
“I’m going to go and clean this mess off me,” Anita says, turning to walk toward her room. I don’t say anything in response, my arm quickly jolting out to clasp her elbow and calmly drawing her to my room.Ourroom.
If she's putting up resistance, I don't hear her. Richard's words swirl in my head, and the images of my mother can't seem to shut out. Not this time.
I continue to lead Anita to the bathroom, and once I’m there, I undress her blood coated clothes until she's naked before me, only with Richard's dried crimson painting her face. I turn the water on for both shower heads, then undress myself.
“Ronan.”
I hop in the shower. “Get in.”
After a few seconds, a cool air brushes over me, and I hear her soft clap of her feet on the shower floor. I wet a clean rag and close the small gap between us, then wrapped my fingers around her chin, steadying her head. I clean off the blood from her face, wiping away any remnants from his body parts that exploded on her.
“Ronan.”
His polluted crimson is almost gone, and soon, her enchanting features will show again. I don't want him on her because the only flesh that should be on her ismine. Mine, not that fucker who I should've stabbed in the throat for stirring up something so sensitive, so goddamn personal.
“Ronan.” Her hand lays flat on my chest, snapping me from my blackened space.
Our eyes meet under the rush of water and steam. Her dim brown eyes search my face as if she's desperate to unravel my darkness, to discover what corrodes my heart, what grows the pain that has built for years.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.” I drop the rag and grab some facial wash—one that's specifically made for cleaning off blood. I squirt some in my hand and lather her face. I'm not interested in bringing up my mother. I want to shrug it off and not let it affect me because it’s been years since she’s been gone. But it doesn't. It’s an enormous wound that's never healed, a deadly disease that has no cure. The numbness never actually comes, no matter how hard I forcefully try to forget.
“Sometimes speaking about it can—”
“I don't.”
She sighs. “I can see something is bothering you, Ronan. When he mentioned your mother—”
My chest tightens. “Leave it alone.”