Page 147 of Executing Malice

I yawn as exhaustion settles in my bones. Each one aches. A persistent thrum reminding me of the night neither of us will ever forget.

My head turns to Dante. One bloody hand on the wheel. The other closed possessively around my thigh.

We’re both a mess. Even before Everett’s appearance. Now, we just have actual human blood opposed to ... well, I guess we had already been using real blood.

But I’m relieved no one’s awake to see us rolling back into town looking like the final couple in a horror movie. IfEverett’s body gets found, I don’t need people putting two and two together.

“Dante?”

His fingers flex around my knee.

“Yeah, baby?”

“If we get caught, I’m going to take the blame.”

His white eyes stay in the road. “We’re not getting caught, and you’re not doing that.”

“I was the one who—”

“Prove it.” He darts me a quick glance as if daring me.

“You’re being ridiculous. I’m not letting you go down for this.”

“Look, don’t think about that now. We’re going to go home, clean up and act like nothing’s wrong. Tonight, when it gets dark, I’ll take care of—”

“What do you mean,you?I’m coming with you.”

“Leila—”

I ignore his resigned sigh. “Don’tLeilame. You think I can just sit around and wait for you to get home? I’m coming.” I put my hand over top of his. “We’re doing this together.”

He, thankfully, doesn’t push, but turns his hand over for me to thread my fingers through his.

“I love you, little demon.”

Happy that I won the argument, I settle my head against his shoulder and close my eyes.

Deep down, I know I should be freaking out. My hands still hold residual prickles of strain from gripping the flashlight, from hammering it down on Everett’s skull. My ears are ringing with the crunch and snap of bones, the squish of brain matter. But I feel nothing.

Not happiness.

Not fear.

Not stress or panic.

There is a wall barricading all the normal things a normal person would feel, and that scares me more.

What if I’m a psychopath?

What if there’s something wrong with me? It’s the only explanation why my biggest concern is taking a shower and getting into clean clothes.

He was a bad person,the voice in my head points out, and isn’t wrong.

Everett had been an awful person. Not just as an adult, but as a kid. I get that he grew up in a shit household, but so did Dante.

Plus, what could I have done differently? He was going to kill Dante. I did what I had to. I don’t regret it.

We arrive at the house and Dante cuts the engine. Neither of us speak as we leave the car with our crime in the driveway and head towards the porch.