Chapter 41

“Cor—” Slater rasps out.

I turn to him, my hands shaking as I fumble with the ropes binding him to the bed. With a final tug, they come loose, and Slater lurches forward into my arms, his body trembling with shock and relief. He’s frozen to the touch, his eyes wide with shock and fear, his face twisted in pain and haunted by demons.

Words fail me as I hold him, not knowing what to say or do.

“I’m sorry, Slater,” I whisper, my voice barely audible. “I had to do it, to protect you. I can’t stand seeing you hurt.”

He says nothing, just looking into my eyes, his gaze softening, the fear replaced by understanding.

We sit there for a long moment, my arms wrapped around him tightly, his body shaking with emotion. I feel his tears falling on my shoulder, and I realize that we are both broken from our own battles, but we are also stronger together.

Slater finally pulls away from me, his face still etched with pain, but there are the first hints of life returning to his eyes.

Heather’s lifeless body lies at our feet, but all I can do is hold Slater. Instinctively I know today was not a one-off, and I’m taken back to the night of Slater’s birthday, his reaction to Heather’s hug and touches. I feel sick, but at least he’s finally been set free from his tormentor. There’s no turning back now.

I know I’ve taken a life, but I can’t focus on that right now. I need time to process everything that has happened in the last two days, and I know it will come soon enough. For now, I just need to help Slater. He’s still visibly shaken, traumatized even, and I know I have to be strong for him.

“Slater, we need to leave,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “We can’t stay here, and we definitely can’t call the police. They’ll know what happened, and they’ll be looking for me.”

Slater nods, his eyes still locked on mine. He knows we have no other choice.

“Where are your clothes?” I ask.

He shakes his head.

“I’ll run up to your room and get you some,” I tell him, but his arms tighten around me before I can pull away. This time his head shaking is frantic, desperate almost.

“Okay. Let’s get out of here, go upstairs together, and get you some clothes.”

Slater nods and together we make our way up the stairs, Slater clinging to me like he’s scared of being left alone. I take him up to his old bedroom and find some sweats and a T-shirt in the drawers, passing them to him to put on while I hunt for some shoes.

When I locate some trainers and turn back to him, he’s still sitting on the bed, not having moved.

“Slater, I’m going to dress you, okay?”

He doesn’t reply, so I carefully pull the T-shirt over his head and help him guide his arms through the holes. I sink to my knees with the sweatpants in hand and slip them on. I try so hard not to touch him, but as I’m pulling them up, my hands graze his thighs and he winces and hisses. It hurts that he’s adverse to my touch, but I understand why. I raise the sweats as high as I can and leave them to put on the shoes instead. Once he’s ready, he stands, and I pull the sweats up the rest of the way.

Slater’s almost catatonic as we make our way down the stairs, his eyes fixed on the ground, his face a mask of grief and horror. I keep a hand on his shoulder, offering what little support I can, but it’s clear that he’s lost in his own world right now, reliving the horrors of his past.

We exit the house as quietly as possible, pulling the front door closed behind us. The air is cool and crisp, a stark contrast to the chaos we’ve just left behind. I lead us to my mom’s car, hoping that I can get Slater to safety and away from everything that’s happened here.

Inside the car, Slater sits silently, his hands clenched tightly on his knees. I start the engine and pull out onto the road, driving quickly but carefully, trying to avoid attracting attention.

As we get further away from Sean’s house, I can feel Slater slowly coming back to himself. He’s still shaken, but at least he’s no longer a shell of himself. We drive for what feels like hours, neither of us speaking, the silence heavy with unspoken words.

Finally, I turn to him, trying to gauge his thoughts. “Slater, where do you want to go? Do you have any friends? Anyone you can stay with?”

He looks at me, his eyes haunted but alive, and finally speaks. “Are you okay?” Slater asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

He’s just been through Christ knows what and he’s asking if I’m okay?

“I don’t know,” I admit. “I just…want to get you away from here and never come back.”

Slater nods and I sigh, blowing out my stress.

“I don’t know the first thing about cleaning up a dead body. Wh-what am I going to do?”

I’ve tried so hard to be strong, to focus on Slater and saving him, but now that he’s away from there, reality is coming crashing down full force and suddenly I’m shaking and crying, and I can’t breathe. I’m going to go to prison for killing a woman. I don’t regret stabbing her, I’d do it again in a heartbeat, but— “Oh, fuck.”

I pull over and Slater reaches over to gently places a hand on my shoulder. His touch is soothing in its warmth and solidarity.

“It’s okay,” he reassures me, his voice soft and comforting. “We’ll figure it out. You did what you had to do to protect me. And Cora…I’m so fucking grateful.”

I wipe away my tears and take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart, which is heavy with the weight of what I’ve done.

“What about your mom? Can we stay with her?” he asks calmly.

How can he be so calm? I’m a mess. A wreck. I’m falling apart.

I think for a moment, then nod. “Yes, we can. But can we…can we not tell her about any of this?”

“Of course. Are you okay to keep driving?”

I nod.

We drive in silence, the weight of our actions and the fear of what might come hanging heavy in the air.

When we finally arrive at my mom’s house, she’s waiting on the porch, her eyes wide with concern when she sees us. “What happened?” she asks, her voice filled with worry.

Slater and I exchange a glance, and I know we’re both thinking the same thing: should have used the drive over to come up with a believable story.

I take a deep breath and try to gather my thoughts. “Slater, uh, had a little car accident on the way home. He was driving, and well, he got pretty beat up, and he’s shaken,” I lie, hoping it’s enough to satisfy my mom’s curiosity and explain why Slater’s in her car and not his own.

She nods, concern etched on her face, but she doesn’t press the issue. “Well, come on in, you two look like you could use some comfort.”

We follow her inside, and she ushers us to the living room. “I’ll go fix you guys some hot chocolate,” she says, concern still apparent in her voice, but she gives us space nonetheless.

Neither of us says a word.

My mom returns with the steaming mugs of hot chocolate, placing one in front of me and one in front of Slater. “Drink up, you two,” she says, concern still in her voice, but her eyes have grown weary from the weight of unsaid words. “Cora, I’m glad you’re back. Work has called me in, I have a meeting with the bosses about the investigation, and I need to head over there. Have you got my keys?”

“Uhh, sure.” My head’s spinning as I fish them out of my pocket and hand them over to her.

“I’m glad you’re both okay, but we will talk about how Slater got into a car accident and magically changed clothes, when I get back,” she says firmly. “Right now, saving my job is more important than whatever lies you’re both telling me.”

Oh, shit.

My mom leaves and the shock of what I’ve done begins to sink in as I stare at the carpet. In my mind, I’m back in Sean’s basement, staring not at our threadbare carpet but at Heather’s lifeless body at my feet. My hands are shaky, the knife still clutched tightly in my grasp. Sean’s aunt lies there, her eyes vacant and accusing.

“Cora? Cora!”

I try to speak, to explain, but the words stick in my throat. Slater shakes me back to the present, his expression unreadable. I brace myself for his anger, for his revulsion at what I’ve done. But instead, he reaches out and gently takes my face in his hands.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, pulling me into a tight embrace. “You saved me, Cora. You saved me.”

Tears stream down my face as I cling to him, finally allowing myself to let go of the fear and guilt.

“I love you, Cora,” Slater whispers. “So fucking much. You have no idea. I’m so proud of you for saving me. You were so strong, Cora. So amazing.”

I realize that I would do anything to protect Slater, even if it means losing a part of myself in the process.

Because I love him too.