𝐧𝐨 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲, 𝐧𝐨 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞- 𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧

5.

     I picked at my chicken nuggets with the plastic fork for what felt like forever. There was no reason to eat chicken nuggets with a fork. So I set it down and busied myself with my full cup of water, waiting for Rafe to get back from the bathroom.

He had two jackets he left in his car, another thing I was grateful for. Everyone complained about Rafe never cleaning out his car, but this was the first time I was glad he didn't. So I wiped off my smeared makeup with wipes in my bag, swung on the oversized jacket, and zipped it up over my ripped shirt. Rafe did the same, shoving his bloodied hands into the pockets until he went to wash them off.

I washed my hands for 10 minutes straight while Rafe was probably doing the same. Still every time I brought my hands up, Trevor's blood pooled over them. I hated crying in public, so it was probably a good thing we stopped at a 24/7 McDonalds at 3:30am. Although neither of us had an appetite.

The door of the men's bathroom swung open from Rafe's force. He sat down across from me, keeping his hands in his pockets. He didn't touch his food either.

"I paid for a drink, and you got water?" He grumbled, picking up the large drink he got for me.

"I'll gladly puke Coke all in your car." I said, sarcastically.

I didn't even want the water. He didn't say anything.

"Listen, I guess I owe you a thank you." I started. "For, you know, helping... with everything tonight."

Rafe kept his eyes on the cup of water, unsure of what to say. "Don't mention it."

I sat back against the booth, letting out a long sigh. I wanted to be in bed so badly, but I knew that if I closed my eyes and managed to fall asleep, I would wake up to the images of a dead body in the back of Rafe Cameron's car.

"So, what do we do?" I asked.

Rafe shrugged. He peeked behind him where the few workers were busy in a laughing conversation in the kitchen. No one else was here except for us and a few people at the drive through most likely getting their day started with their early jobs.

"Never, ever talk about this. Don't mention this night. Not the party, not the boy. Nothing." He leaned in, whispering roughly. "Then, I go back to hating you. And god forbid, you go back to hating me."

To be honest, I almost forgot how much I hated him.

"He'll be on the news soon." He continued lowly. "If people cared enough for him, there will be missing posters. Don't say anything. Not a word."

"I know." I confirmed.

"I'll drop you off and pick up your car." He stood up, throwing away his untouched hamburger.

"You're going to walk?" I stood up too, pulling the jacket closer to my body.

It was at least a 20-30 minute walking distance from his house. He couldn't take his car and mine at the same time. We didn't live far from each other, only a few blocks down. And at this time of night, that would surely be crazy.

"To get my mind off of things. I can't exactly sleep right now." He pushed the door open, grabbing his keys from his pocket.

I have the job of getting rid of the weapon. Compared to what Rafe did for me tonight, this was nothing. It was probably the most I could do. I couldn't even return to the sight of the murder so he offered to walk all that way to pick up my car. My dad would probably be pissed at me for leaving it there since he has work in just a few hours, so every little thing could help me right now.

I shoved the dried up bloodied hammer in the inside pocket of the jacket. I tossed Rafe my keys and hopped out of the car without a word being exchanged. I hurried up inside, open the door with my key, then silently tip toed my way upstairs. One wrong creak could wake my parents up.

I used the bathroom in my room, turning the bath handle on. I heard on a true crime show that cool water helps the most and also rubbing alcohol. I wasn't sure and I wasn't about to search it up on my phone or else whoever is out there could get too suspicious. Everything paranoid me now.

I scrubbed and scrubbed, also taking my shirt off to wash the blood stains with hydrogen peroxide. But when everything was clean, I didn't think it was good enough. I couldn't let my dad use a tool that also murdered someone in the same town as us.

Maybe it was a good thing he died. Well, it was never a good thing. When he first came up to me, I didn't expect him to be dead by the end of the night because of me. I didn't expect anything after the moment he asked my name. But if he lived, Rafe would've gotten in trouble for beating him senseless and who knows where that would lead. He could've twisted the whole night and lied about what he did to me. I would be in trouble, Rafe would be in trouble, our families, and neither of us wanted that. Especially not with everything Sarah was caught in with the Pogues.

I waited in my room, pacing back and forth for Rafe to get back. I kept the hammer at the bottom of my underwear drawer where no one would go through.

Like promised, the car was back on my driveway by the time my dad woke up for work. A pebble at my window indicated Rafe's arrival. I open it, catching the keys he threw to me. I slam my window shut again, rushing downstairs to put the keys in place. Everything went according to plan. My dad doesn't have a hammer anymore, but he would believe he misplaced it and simply buy a new one.

I curl myself up on my bed, rubbing my face with my hands. I knew I needed sleep, but I also need a shower. There wasn't a chance of sleep, not after tonight. So I gather a towel and a fresh pair of pajamas. I start the shower, this time putting it to warm water.

The sound of my phone buzzing stops me for a moment. My heart speeds up again, waiting to see a number from the cops or possibly Rafe ready to say something went wrong. But the number was unknown. A number from the Bahamas. No one would know from that far. No one in this town knew it. Trevor's parents wouldn't be suspicious yet.

I throw my phone back onto the bed, curling the towel around my naked body tighter. But I didn't get far when my phone started buzzing again. It was the same number.

I rolled my eyes, picking up the phone. "Whoever's-"

"Atallia?"

I voice broke off, the familiar voice calling me from the other end. But it was impossible. "This isn't funny."

"Atallia! It's me."

"Sarah?" I give a half smile as if she could see me.

"Yes." She chuckled.

"You're alive. You're-"

"Listen, you can't say anything about this. We're trying to get home. Please, please don't say anything." She begs.

We're. That means John B is still with her.

"I promise." I nod my head. "I promise, Sarah."

"I'll be home soon." She rushes. From what I guess, she stole the phone.

In such a short phone call, my heart lifted just a bit more.