Page 38

The car ride back to Robin’s house goes by in silence, and it’s not until we arrive and I turn off the engine that she looks over at me.

“Thank you,” she says quietly. She looks exhausted and slightly disheveled, but for the first time tonight, her face isn’t marred by deep devastation.

“Anytime,” I say. Then I open my car door. “Stay.”

I hop out and walk around to the passenger side to open the door for her.

She looks at me with an eyebrow raised as she slips out the door. “You told me to stay so you can open the car door for me?”

I grin at her. “Yeah, I have manners. At least sometimes.”

“Well, thank you.” She gives me a weak smile.

I walk with her to her front door, and we pause before she opens it. I’m prepared for her to send me away, although I desperately want to stay. We still haven’t talked about why I came here, but I know it’s not the time to bring it up. As horrible as it sounds, I think I somewhat redeemed myself tonight.

“Do you want to come in?” She hesitates. “I mean, you don’t have to, you already wasted so much of your time tonight––”

“I’d love to come in,” I interrupt.

She nods and rummages through her bag for her keys before she remembers we didn’t lock the door earlier. “Let’s hope there’s no serial killer inside.”

“I’ll go in first.” I chuckle and pass her to head inside first.

I stumble into the pitch-black house, my hand tapping the wall until I find a light switch, and bright fluorescent lights flood the crammed hallway. I look to the left into her dark and empty living room before I turn around.

“Looks empty to me,” I say smugly.

“Someone could be hiding in the bedroom closet.”

“Do you want me to go check?”

“Absolutely not,” she says. She steps in and peels off her shoes, and I do the same.

“Have some hidden skeletons in there or something?” I joke.

“Something like that.” She walks past me into the kitchen, turning on the lights as she goes. Halfway into the kitchen, she freezes. I catch up behind her to see what’s going on and spot the tiny puddle of blood on the floor from earlier.

I nudge her toward the small kitchen table in the corner. “Sit. I’ll take care of it.”

She opens her mouth to argue but I’ve already guided her to the nearest chair.

“Cleaning supplies under the sink?” I ask, and she nods. “Are you hungry? I’ll order us some food.”

“You don’t have to––”

“That’s not what I asked,” I interrupt. “Did you eat earlier?”

She shakes her head and watches me kneel to clean up the blood. “No, I didn’t. I’m not sure if I’m hungry though. I still feel … nauseous.”

I dispose of the paper towels and wash my hands before I join her by the table. “I’ll get us some food, and you can decide once it gets here if you want to eat. But you probably should.”

She looks at me curiously before she nods. “Is it alright if I go take a shower really quick?”

I look at her, amused. “It’s your house. You can do whatever you want.”

“I didn’t want to be rude and leave you alone,” she points out.

“I’ll be fine, sunshine. Go shower.”