grab her shirt, dragging it over her breasts. "Look at me," I demanded, seeing her panicked eyes on the body half-covering her.
"McC—" I started, only to see him drop down on the other side of her, grabbing the bastard's body, rolling him off of her. "Look at me, babe," I demanded again, voice a little softer, waiting for her head to swivel, eyes landing on me.
There was a second of pure panic, then confusion, and then it was all washed away by the tears that flooded her eyes.
"Fuck. Okay. Alright," I said, pulling my hand off of her mouth, grabbing her body, pulling her up until she was cradled in my lap.
She curled into me, her hand gripping my shirt, her face buried in my neck, the hot tears running down to wet my shirt. "You're okay. I got you," I assured her, my hand holding the back of her neck.
"Huck," McCoy said a moment later, waving a hand to the body. "We need to clean up."
"Right," I agreed, nodding, trying to remind myself that there would be time for soft shit, for comforting her, later. Right now, we needed to make sure she was safe, that we could walk away from this without anyone knowing she was even there. "Harmon, babe, we need to focus right now, okay? We need to know where you were, what you touched, where there might be evidence on that fucker."
We weren't sweating some low-level gang members bodies being investigated too hard, but some average Joe in a working-class area? They might actually put some effort into him. We needed to have her disappear from the whole space.
"Harmon," I said, voice firmer, hearing her sniffle pathetically, making me feel like a dick for being harsh with her, even if I knew it was for her own good.
"I, ah. I was in the walk-in closet. That was where I woke up," she said, taking slow, deep breaths. "I touched the pill bottle and the blanket. The doorknob. I touched all the walls in there, trying to find my way around. Um, the wood tray. I hit him with that. He, ah, he pulled my hair. I think he pulled some of it out," she said, eyes far away as she was trying to recall the awful events of the day. "Am I bleeding here?" she asked, touching her bruised face.
"No," I told her, even though I wanted to resurrect the bastard just so I could kill him more slowly.
"But there's..." she said, fingers touching her cheek.
"That's his blood. We will wash it off before we go, okay?"
"Okay," she agreed, eyes starting to focus. "How are we... you killed him..."
"He deserved it," I said, shrugging. "And you don't need to worry about how. We just need to get you cleaned up. Throw a different shirt on you. And then we can go, okay? McCoy, Che, and Remy will handle this now."
"Okay," she agreed, going with the flow even though she looked like she had a million questions.
With that, I pulled her off the floor, took her with me into the bathroom, helping her wash the blood away, yanking off her top, slipping on the tee that Che handed to me, hating that she had to wear anything from him, but knowing it was the only way to get out of here without someone seeing the blood.
"Okay. You and me, we are going to walk out of here like nothing happened, okay?" I said, watching as Che moved into the bathroom, tossing the washcloth and shirt into the trash, wiping off the counter, faucet, light switch, the mirror, shit we didn't even touch.
Our body count was high for one day. Their paranoia was going to work in our favor to make sure there was nothing of any of us at this crime scene.
"Here," Remy said, handing Harmon a trucker hat. "That hair," he said, shrugging.
"Right," she agreed, carefully twisting her hair up, holding it on the top of her head, then trapping it under the hat. "I guess having distinguishing hair colors isn't a good idea if you're a criminal."
"You're not a criminal," I insisted, reaching to grab her hand.
"I'm an accessory, at the very least," she said, tone a little dead, far away.
But there would be time to deal with that later.
Right now, we had to get out of here so the guys could clean.
Even as I thought that, Che was walking past with plastic gloves and a vacuum, walking out to the living room where