Page 88 of Shattered By the Currents

Xander had done this.

She searched the garage. Where was he?

The shock and nausea and guilt suddenly shifted into something else… fear.

She stumbled back another step. Then again. Before she realized what she was doing, she was running. Racing out of the garage as a wild need to get away took over her body like poison.

Out. She had to get out. Out of this house. This town. She’d call the police in the car once she was safe. She’d tell them everything. About Xander. About Sampson.

A sob tore from her chest.

She raced up the stairs two at a time before almost falling into the small apartment. Blood coated the doorknob, making a whimper bubble up from her lips.

Somehow, she made it to the bathroom a second before she dropped beside the toilet and threw up every scrap of food and water that had been in her stomach.

When she had nothing left, her gaze went to her hands. To the blood.

Her stomach rolled again.

She forced herself to her feet and turned the water on as hot as it would go. Then she started to scrub.

Tears stained her cheeks, but her eyes remained locked on the water. The way it went from clear to a crimson red. The way blood stained the basin.

There was so much. Sampson’s blood. And it wasn’t coming off. God, why wasn’t it coming off?

She pumped more soap onto her arms and scrubbed harder, the heat of the water burning her skin. His body flashed in her mind again. She whimpered, almost falling to her knees.

Quickly, she turned off the water and raced to the closet in her bedroom. A loud bang cut through the room as her suitcase hit the wooden floorboards. She threw it onto the bed and started packing, throwing clothes inside.

A voice in her head whispered that she was wasting time. That she needed to get into the car and go, now.

But there were other voices too. So many she couldn’t think.

Her best friend was gone. Dead. Because of her. Because she’d confided in him.

Hopelessness and guilt swirled in her belly, making her want to collapse to the floor. Either that or be sick again.

Suddenly, the door behind her opened with a thud. She spun to see eyes that should be familiar. Eyes that had once been comforting. Eyes that now only incited pure fear.

“Hi, Raven.”

She pushed back, her legs hitting the bed. There was nowhere to go.

“You killed him.” Rage tangled with her fear.

“Killed who?”

“Don’t play stupid, Xander. You killed Sampson! And I’m calling the police. They’re going to arrest you, and you’ll never be let out.”

He didn’t so much as flinch. “Is that right? And whose prints do you think they’ll find on the murder weapon?”

She froze. The knife. She’d pulled out the knife.

Oh God, she was going to be sick again.

“You really shouldn’t have let him snoop, Raven. Nothing good comes from that.”

“Are you laundering money? Is your business some shell company? And…what? You killed Sampson to protect it?”