Owner (Blood Brotherhood 2)

I pull up outside my place. Nobody is in. That’s good. I want to get in and out. I’ll leave a note for Stephanie and what's left of my food and cushions for Brad. I just want my clothes. I can’t wear Nina's castoffs forever. I want to feel comfortable in the jeans I've worn into submission, and express myself with shirts that curse at people when they read them. Simple things bring me pleasure.

Fortunately, I don't have much. Everything I own can fit in my rucksack and my duffel bag. My entire room packs down in about twenty minutes. Clothes don't take long to pack when you just hurl them into your bag.

I’m on my way out when Stephanie meets me coming up the stairs. She stops dead and looks at me like she's seen a ghost.

“Anita! Where have you been?”

“Just out. Why? I’ve come to get my things, by the way. I’m going to be moving out. You can rent to someone who has money to pay rent.”

"The police were here.They were asking after you. Someone was killed in the village yesterday.”

“That's unfortunate.”

"They asked me to call them if I saw you.”

“I’ll drop in at the station,” I say, shouldering my rucksack and my duffel a little tighter. This isn’t good. There’s no reason for anybody to look for me, aside from the fact that I’m guilty. Obviously, I don’t want the police to think I am guilty. “Did they say what I could help them with?”

“Someone saw you running through the rain covered in blood. It’s all over Direford.”

“Shit.”

We stare at each other.

“You're not going to… me, are you?” She's terrified. After all these months of flatting with her, there’s finally some respect in her tone, and it's only because I’m being accused of something heinous without context.

“No, Stephanie. It wasn't me, obviously. I’ll go clear it up.”

I walk past her. She flattens herself against the stair wall to keep as far away from me as possible. I could get used to this kind of treatment. But I’m not going to. The last thing I want is to be arrested.

Tossing my possessions in the back seat, I get into the front and make a getaway. A real getaway, because I am sure Stephanie is already calling the police. She won’t be able to help herself. She’ll want the positive feedback. Stephanie’s dream is to marry a judge, but I think she’d sleep with a constable.

I should get back to the abbey before anybody notices that I’ve taken the car. It’s possible I’ll get away with this completely.

But before I do go back, I just want to do a quick swing by Craig’s place. It’s not the brightest idea I have ever had, but my curiosity is stronger than I can resist.

As I approach at a reasonable speed, there's a bit of yellow tape out the front gate, and a small collection of officers wearing plastic suits over their clothes. They’re swarming the place at a slow and painstaking pace. I can see them holding little plastic bags of what I guess must be evidence.

My DNA is going to be all over his house. And my fingerprints. I touched so many things. I briefly wonder if they have my prints on file, and then I remember that time I got caught shoplifting. They took my prints then. I am going to be positively ID’d six ways from Sunday.

And then things get worse. One of the officers meets my gaze as I crawl by. She’s a thin-lipped, eagle-eyed sort with straw-blonde hair sticking out under her cap. I look at her. She looks at me. Then she looks down at her phone, where I am guessing there’s a picture of me. Then she looks back at me and gets on the radio.

At this point, I lift my middle finger in a salute. Why, I don’t fucking know. In for a penny, in for a pound. I’m no longer at a sensible thirty miles per hour. I’m hitting a get the hell out of here sixty before I know what I’m doing. This is a car that responds to the will of its driver like no vehicle I have ever encountered before. I put my foot down, it roars like a beast and leaps forward.

Unfortunately for me, apparently a murder in Direford has brought in police from across the region. They come out of the side streets like it's a movie, three cars swinging out of our little village lanes to assemble behind me, lights and sirens going. Direford has not seen excitement like this in forever.

I am not worried. When you have this much adrenaline coursing through you, you're not worried. You’re wired. I know I can lose them in the countryside. There are roads, lanes, and tracks webbing all over this green and pleasant land. I just need to make enough turns at enough speed.