ROT WITH ME

xvi - june

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The woman was dead.

Luring her out into the woods with a recording of another girl screaming for help. The woman had stepped out, leaving as if sensing her own doomsday. A part of her expected the woman to ignore the sound, to go back home with no guilt, considering how corrupt her morals had to be to try and take advantage of a drunk person. But surprisingly, the very little humanity left in her emerged from out of the shadows. Ready to help someone in need.

The assailant became the hero in mere minutes.

Or so she thought.

June ran her tongue over her teeth. Sweat beading at her temple. Blood smeared and dripping from her knuckles. An amalgamation of her own crimson and the now dead woman's whose name she would never know. It was better that way. She didn't like to put a name to the face.

She hadn't meant to kill her. Only to bring her to the edge of death. June thought she'd simply knocked her unconscious but then she'd checked the pulse.

The scene ahead was messy. Too gory for her taste.

Her hand shook. A tremor creeping along her spine. It felt as though her heart pressed firmly against her chest.

Slipping her phone out.

And dialing Henry's number from memorization.

The rhythm digging deep into her ear canal as the background noise of people yelling and having a good time diminished over the sound of her bent thoughts.

He picked up. 'Hello?'

June screwed her eyes shut.

'Who is this?' he continued.

'I did it again.'

He paused for a moment.

He laughed. 'I told you.'

'She deserved it,' she tried to justify.

'I'm sure she did, June.'

'I'm not like you. I don't do it for pleasure.'

'Right,' he said, unconvinced. 'Let me guess, you need help cleaning up?'

'Please.'

'Why didn't you ask Juliette?'

'She's out of town.'

'Send me the address.'

Twenty four hours before the body would start to rot.