Page 35 of Her Wicked Knights (Their Hallowed Queen #3)

Tripp

It takes everything in me not to fucking hyperventilate on the way to Colton's.

Some sadistic little part of me wants to slam on the brakes,, just to wake Rev's ass up so that he can fucking help figure a way out of this.

Colton refused to say anything, or to let me speak.

The look in his eyes assured me we would discuss it when there was no one around.

There were some questions from the others, some excitement— apparently Carson really doesn't like Marley— but nobody tried to argue the matter with Whit.

It was clear he'd made up his mind, and we're playing a part.

We're playing his little puppets, like fucking Audrey and Jake and the rest of them.

We're playing like we're his pawns, pieces for him to move around on a chessboard.

I'm a little afraid that we are exactly that, that we think we're playing him even as he plays us.

When I park, Colton grabs Rev beneath the arm and slings him onto his shoulder. He supports his weight all the way to his room, past Cordelia sitting at the table on the phone. She doesn't even so much as turn around to acknowledge us as we pass behind her.

Once we're in his room, Colton practically throws Rev to the ground and locks his door. He rakes his hands through his already messy hair, and when he finally looks at me, the helplessness in his eyes takes me by surprise.

"What do we do?"

I planned to ask him that, because I don't fucking know.

"I don't know. I don't—"

I can't think straight. My heart has been racing since I heard her name on Whit's tongue, and I wanted to rip it out of his fucking skull. He doesn't deserve to say her name.

"We can't handle this ourselves, right?" Colton shakes his head, like he's answering his own question. "I recorded him."

When I stare at him, Colton pulls out his phone and begins playing a video.

The screen is black, but after a moment I hear him ask me where I found Rev, and then as it plays, there's an entire recording of our time at the church, right up through the parking lot, where Colton told me to come to his house.

"Nobody admitted to anything on it." Colton says, as if he can sense the direction of my thoughts.

"We can't take it to the police because it's not enough to arrest him on anything, and we can't take him down alone.

We have to get Audrey, too, at the bare minimum.

I don't trust that she won't still try to carry on this shit even if Whit's locked up in prison. "

"Fuck." I scrub my hands down my face, cause it's hard to even think straight right now much less try to figure out how to stop a murder.

If her dad was still here, he'd take us seriously.

But even then, would that be enough? He'd clearly suspected something, and it got him and his wife killed.

"Okay, so no police. They're useless right now, and I don't think they ever found Brooke's body. "

I watch Colton's jaw tic, the only sign of distress he gives at her name.

None of us know what Whit did with her body after that night.

I honestly wouldn't put it past him to keep her corpse in his basement, so that he has someone to listen to him when the rest of us aren't around for him to spout his deranged bullshit.

"No police." He confirms. It's probably for the best not to involve them until we know how to get around explaining our part in that.

What do we say? That we're fucking killers because we'd rather live with the guilt than watch one another die?

I don't even remember the whole thing. It's hazy, like a dream more than reality.

"Okay. Your mom? Does she know anyone that can-?"

"You know she's useless."

I nod, because I do know that. Most mothers would at least ask why we were dragging our unconscious friend through her house.

"My parents don't..." I swallow, not sure how to continue that sentence. "I mean, I could try. They might have me committed, but..."

"No." Colton shakes his head. "I don't think they can do anything.

Your mom's too close to all of it. If she knew who was responsible for that, she'd probably burn down the mayor's office and his house, and all it would accomplish is showing our hand.

" He worries his lip a minute before letting out a sigh.

"I'll figure a way out of this, but we need Rev to get his shit together. "

"Let's throw him in the shower." I suggest. I'll fucking waterboard him if it gets him to stop losing his shit and get it together. Colton and I are both trying to hold it together, and we can't do that if we're trying to babysit Rev while also trying to figure out how to save Marley.

"Yeah." Colton agrees, moving around to drag our friend's limp body up from the ground.

He ends up throwing him over his forearm, which would be funny if it weren't so sad to see Rev reduced to this.

I run ahead of him to the private bath, turning the shower on.

I intend to let it get warm first, but Colton doesn't hesitate, so I step aside as he drops Rev onto the tile floor.

Thankfully, he seems to have woken a little during his journey from Colton's floor, because he's aware enough to keep his head from slamming into the tile wall.

... until the cold water hits his face and he jumps.

"Whatthefuck?" He slurs, trying to gather himself to escape the icy torrent. Colton shoves him in the center of the chest, pinning him down, and I turn the water colder. It's worked wonders already.

"Pity party's over." Colton snaps. "Time to sober the fuck up and get your head out of your ass. We've got problems."

"I'vegot problems!" Rev growls, trying in vain to push himself up. The shower stream is hitting him right in the face, and water runs in rivulets down his dark skin, droplets flying everywhere as he struggles. "You donno."

"We don't know?" I laugh, because I'm not sure what world Rev thinks he's living in. We were all there. We all suffered together. "Bullshit!"

"It hurt. Likefire. Here." He beats his own chest with his fist, like he's punishing it for something.

"We all participated, Rev." Colton shakes his head. "She was dead before you stabbed her. She was dead even before Tripp did."

"At most, you just... desecrated a corpse." As soon as the words leave my mouth, I wince. Stupid fucking choice.

It doesn't really make it any better, does it?

"You don' understand." Rev sobs. "I'm so upset because I'm not upset."

Colton shakes his head.

"You're right." I say. "I don't understand because that made no sense."

"I'ms a killer, Tripp."

"We're all killers." I remind him. "Because we had no choice."

I don't realize he's crying until the sob breaks from his chest.

"I'm going to go make some coffee." Colton says.

It's a paper-thin excuse to not have to deal with the touchy-feely shit, abandoning me with our devastated friend.

I'm not sure Colton even knows how to make coffee.

But I don't care to stop him as he hurries out of the bathroom, letting the door slam behind him.

"Rev..."

He doesn't look at me. Maybe because he can't hear me over his own sobs, maybe because he's afraid to acknowledge that I'm seeing him like this.

"Rev." I try again, louder this time, more insistent.

But he doesn't move, doesn't look at me, so I take matters into my own hands.

I slip my phone out of my pocket, leaving it on the counter as I turn the water warmer.

And then I step behind Rev in the shower, grateful that Colton's mom is rich and their shower is massive enough to make this possible.

Rev jumps when I put my hands on his arms, his whole body tensing and his sobs ceasing as he holds his breath.

"It's just me." I assure him, even though he obviously knows that. I flex my fingers on his biceps just enough to give him an indicator of what I'm going for.

To my surprise, Rev doesn't resist me. There's no need to prove himself in any way, no walls up as he leans back, letting me take his weight in my arms.

This feels too intimate a thing to do with my best friend, but this is an intimate moment.

Rev is vulnerable, hurt. For some reason, what happened at the church affected him worse than it did Colton and me.

It's fucked that we're not all falling apart, that any of us can live with ourselves when we had a hand in someone else's life ending.

But we need to get it together, because if we don't, then it will have been for nothing.

Marley will die, and then we'll all fall apart.

The thought of a life without Marley makes my chest ache. It's like someone carved out my heart, and the irony of that isn't lost on me. Whit said we needed a real sacrifice... to give up something of value. But she isn't just a thing of value. She is everything.

Well, maybe not everything.

I run my hand over Rev's wet hair, keeping it from plastering to his skin as he lays in my lap, his head cradled against my stomach.

Something is telling me that this is crossing lines I have no business crossing. This is wrong, isn't it? Something is telling me it is.

But why? If it's wrong, why does it feel so damn right?

Because once the initial thought fades and I force my mind to empty... Once I focus on nothing beyond what I can feel with the water raining on my skin, soaking my clothes to my body and Rev's solid weight shifting ever so slightly as his desperate sobs begin to slow...

It feels as natural as breathing.