Who Killed Kyle Simmons? (Bastille)

Chapter Twelve

Chapter twelve

~8 days before the murder~

Woody was right like usual. He had always been the go to person for advice.

My sneakers made a squeaky noise on the floor of the lift, which only made me shuffle my feet around to make them squeak more.

I'd decided to talk to Dan later that day.

A similar thing like this had happened when he'd yelled at Will on tour. They'd both gone to opposite ends of the tour bus, until Dan had called him half an hour later apologising.

He'd always put himself under more stress. Staying up late, writing. He enjoyed it though.

Dan would have to wait for now.

At the lift doors pinged open, I wondered whether He'd be home. He normally was though, always more antisocial than the rest of us.

After ending up knocking multiple times with no reply, ( the rings on my fingers had hurt so I'd used my foot to gently kick the bottom of the door instead ), I leaned sideways on to the door.

With a click, it swung inwards and I had to grab the handle to save myself from hurtling to the floor.

"Hello?"

Was he in? He wouldn't just leave his door unlocked would he?

A pair of heels was by the mat.

Well if he wasn't in, someone else definitely was.

I knocked on the living room door, but still no one answered.

As I walked further into the house, I could hear muffled talking, then an ever so slight creaking noise, coming from the back room.

The shoes in the corridor didn't belong to his girlfriend, but he normally had friends over to chat with.

Opening the door I stopped in my tracks.

That wasn't his girlfriend, and they weren't just talking.

"Fucking hell."

I squeezed my eyes shut before turning a full circle, uncertain of what to do.

The women covered herself with the duvet, whilst He just looked at me in shock, before grabbing his trousers.

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.

I turned heel and ran.

"Kyle wait!"

I could hear him trying to catch up to me, but how could I now face him and talk.

"Kyle!"

Avoiding the lift, I hurried down the stairs until I was sure he wasn't following me.

Someone had to know, but how was I supposed to tell, he was my friend, and it wasn't my secret to tell.

I'd have to leave him to pick up the pieces.

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A/N

Sorry this chapter is slightly shorter than the others, but that's just the way it goes. I've been I'll all week so haven't been able to write anything, but hopefully I will finish and get another chapter up tomorrow.

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