The Blade You Stained // Frerard // SEQUEL TO "NEVER COMING HOME"

• Chapter 7 •

I woke up in Frank's warm, tattooed arms. Though I had been on edge every second day of every day, worried about the moment our faces appear on the news, remembering every single step of the murder over and over, calculating every single detail and making sure that we did not make even the smallest of mistakes, it was moments like this, the tender, real moments, that pulled me out of the water when I felt as if I was drowning.

Frank stirred, his eyes slowly fluttering open, a smile forming on his sleepy face. "Good morning, princess," He teased. His voice had a tired croak to it. It was adorable.

"Good morning to you too, sunshine," I replied with a smile. "Did you sleep well?"

"Indeed I did. Did you, love?"

"Very well," I lied. I had been awake nearly all night, nervously tidying the hotel room after Frank's quiet snoring indicated that he was asleep. I climbed back in bed when the sun started coming up, and watched Frank sleep until he woke up. "Do you want to get breakfast?"

"Yeah, I'm starving. Let's grab some and bring it back up to the room. We can't risk letting people see our faces too much."

-

I packed our bags as Frank took a shower. We had already stayed at this hotel for three days, and we couldn't risk anybody seeing our faces for too long. It was terrifying, yet exhilarating to be on the run. Adrenaline was constantly running through my blood. Every little thing was a rush. As much as I hate to admit it, I loved the feeling. Being on the run with the man I loved was even better.

"Gee? You packed?"

"Yeah," I called back. "I packed your things, too."

"Thanks, babe. I'll be out in a few minutes. Check the news."

I grabbed the small, grey remote from the nightstand and clicked the button. It was already turned to the news station. Frank and I checked 3 times a day to see if anything related to our case was on.

"Still no word on the disappearance of Linda Iero," An annoyingly perky news lady announced. "The beloved member of the community went missing on Thursday. Her son, Frank Iero, is also nowhere to be found. His last reported connection, a tattoo artist under whom Frank worked, stated that Frank had quit a week earlier due to familial matters. At this time, the police seemingly have no leads."

"That's such bullshit," Frank laughed. I turned around to see him with black jeans and no shirt, rubbing his hair with a towel. "'Beloved member of the community' my ass. The neighbors hated her. She wasn't involved in anything. They just want to act like they loved her so they can get air time."

"Do you think the police have any leads?"

"Honestly, I don't know. They generally keep the public a little bit behind on open cases, at least from what I've heard. At this point, 'no leads' probably means that they have a weak lead. It'll still be nearly impossible to find anything substantial. We covered our tracks well."

"I don't know; do you think we need to do anything else? Change our appearances or something?"

Frank stood in contemplative silence, then replied, "that might not be the worst idea in the world. What did you have in mind?"

"I was thinking maybe I could dye my hair red, like I did in high school."

"Don't you think that would call some attention?"

"Yeah, but the media is going to see me with black hair. Red makes my face look different. And it might be good, in a way. No murderer dyes their hair bright red. It'll make me look less suspicious, if anything."

"That's fair. I think I should shave my head."

"Frank-"

"No matter how I cut or dye it, my hair is distinctive. Shaving it is my best option. You know it is."

I bit my lip. "Fine."

"I also need to start wearing long sleeves and gloves in public. It's getting colder, anyways. My tattoos will give me away."

"What about your neck?"

"Makeup."

"We should also wear sunglasses. Cover our faces. And try not to stay in one place for too long."

"Smart."

I started biting my nails as Frank reached for the green and black sweater I left on the bed for him. He pulled it on and walked over to me, taking my hand and looking into my eyes. "We've got this, babe. We'll do everything we need to in order to stay away from prison. We'll flee the country if we need to. We can do anything and everything. We have each other."

"I'm so scared," I sighed, a tear falling into my cheek. "I'm afraid of what's going to happen."

"What's going to happen is that the police will deem Linda a cold case. It'll end up forgotten in the back of a filing cabinet in some New Jersey precinct. They don't even know that it's a murder, dear. The police are wasting their time looking for Linda alive."

"Are we bad people, Frank?"

Frank wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into a protective embrace. I inhaled, taking in his scent. I didn't know how long I had left with Frank. No matter how long he assured me that everything was going to be okay, worry fluttered in my stomach every single day. I felt like something wasn't right.

"Dear," Frank sighed, barely louder than a whisper, "There are some people who just don't deserve to be alive.

~

I started watching You on Netflix and it gave me this new surge of inspiration for this book. Again I'm sorry that I've been gone so long, but that's basically a staple of my writing style at this point.

I have quite a few short stories and a bit of poetry that's been sitting on my desktop for a while, and I was wondering if maybe I should publish them on Wattpad or not? I'm squeamish about sharing my original stuff online, but maybe I should try and fight that, y'know? Would y'all be interested?

~ Chase