Kill Switch (Devil's Night 3)

“Hey,” I replied, holding out my hand for her.

“Did you get lost?” she asked, coming over for me to take her arm.

But I just shook my head. “Just exploring,” I told her. “Would you take me to the bathroom, please?”

“Are you okay?”

“I hope so,” I joked.

I had no idea how to answer that, and the way my life had been going, the answer could be different in five minutes. Ask me later.

Right now, though, I just needed another shower. The floors in that part of the catacombs were non-renovated and filthy.

And then there was last night, so…

She walked us both to the spacious bathroom, and I found the vanity chair and lowered myself into the seat.

“Are they still in bed?” she asked, messing with some items in the cabinet.

I opened my mouth to tell her ‘yes’, but then the nature of her question hit me, and I froze.

Are they still in bed? There was more than one bedroom down here, I was sure. Why would I know if Will was still in bed?

Unless…

“You heard,” I said, my shoulders slumping a little.

I couldn’t catch a break. I’d never had much of a sex life, but when I did, everyone knew everything.

“I heard a little,” she said, and I could hear the amusement in her tone.

“Michael, too?”

When she didn’t answer, I knew.

Dammit.

“It’s okay,” she soothed, coming over and dabbing something on my forehead. I hissed at the sting of a cut I didn’t realize I had. Must’ve gotten it in the accident last night.

I frowned. “What you must think.”

Every moan and cry that left my mouth last night raced through my head, and I was a little mortified. Private things needed to stay private, because not everyone would understand. I could just see her and Michael coming down to make sure we were okay last night and hearing what they heard. It must’ve seemed so shallow.

“I’m thinking… I understand,” she told me. “And you don’t need to explain yourself to me.”

I appreciated her manners, but still…

She cleaned my cut, remaining quiet for a moment, and then affixed a Band-Aid to my hairline.

“Our life is a series of plans,” she finally said. “Days, weeks, months, years… And then, there are moments. Moments you don’t see coming and you don’t plan, but everything you need, all the things you want to feel, are in that moment.”

I listened to her, letting it sink in.

“People come together, and for a tiny space of time,” she went on, “it’s beautiful and raw, because you can’t think and you don’t want to. You just feel.” She paused and then continued. “The moments are what we remember.”

People come together. So…

“You and Michael and…?”