Page 68 of Jerk

Guests turn towards the scream, my eyes following.

When my gaze lands on the front door, all the tension in my body comes rolling back.

The room turns red, ringing in my ears.

“Is that Krystal?” Hannah asks.

It is. And she stands in the doorway, pale as glass.

Covered in blood.

TWENTY-FOUR

HANNAH

My heart skipsas Mac and Gray lead a blood-covered Krystal over to where Rye and I sit.

She's shaking, a blank look on her face.

Rye stands me up, cold washing over my skin as he takes his robe from around my shoulders. He throws it over Krystal before he sits her down in the chaise.

“Krystal,” he starts, his voice a contrast to my heart. Controlled. Steady. “You have to tell me what happened."

She looks up at him, her voice trembling when she finally speaks. “It’s-it’s done.”

Rye crouches to her level, but all I can do is stare at her blood-covered face and hands. “You’re going to have to tell me what that means.” His hands land on her shoulders. “Was this our father? Did he do this?”

“He-he won’t—he’s not getting up.”

My chest closes in as I move closer to her. “Krystal, what did you do?”

Rye stands to his feet, signalling the DJ. “Party’s over.” When no one reacts to the music cutting, his voice thunders through me. “Everyone get the fuck out!"

The Crowns hop into action, herding everyone out around us, but my eyes stay fixed on Krystal. “Please tell me you didn’t do what I think?—”

“You too, Alfonso.” Rye turns to me as people head for the doors.

“Excuse me?” I blink.

“Leave,” he says.

“I’m not?—”

“Leave!” His bark brings my shoulders to my ears, my muscles freezing. His voice is a contrast to the moment we just had. “Now!”

Unbuckling the leash from my neck, I drop it to the floor before I fix my dress and turn my heels towards the door.

I wait for him to stop me. I wait for him to call me. But he doesn’t, that lump forming in my throat.

People whisper as I move past them, and I don’t even stop to gather my posse.

Looking behind me, the last thing I see is Krystal’s head, buried in her bloody hands.

“Hannah?”

Zurie brings my eyes from my phone, sitting in our usual spot at Sun House.

“Yeah. What?” I respond, the girls all staring at me.