Thicker Than Blood (Thicker Than Blood #1)(6)

“I’ll kill him this time,” I mumbled. “I will.” Tears began to form as a sense of helplessness washed coldly over me. Angela and I both knew I was full of shit; we both knew that I wouldn’t do a damn thing. Because I couldn’t touch that man without bringing hell down on both myself and Leisel.

Knowing how helpless I was made me hate him as much as I hated the infected that plagued the world beyond our walls. He was a monster, and no better than they were.

“He’s dead, Eve. Lawrence is dead,” Angela said, her eyes huge.

I scowled at her. “What?” I cried. “How?”

And then suddenly I smiled, because I didn’t care how. What did it matter? He was dead and Leisel was free of him, free of his torture. Whoever she was passed on to next, they couldn’t be any worse than Lawrence. So I continued smiling because this was a good thing, as good as life could get inside a walled community that had so easily disregarded a century’s worth of women’s rights in favor of a male-ruled totalitarian state.

“Where is she?” I asked, laughing despite myself. I suddenly wanted to find her, to be with her that very instant, wrapping my arms around her and sharing in what I could only imagine would be tears of sheer joy.

It was stupid of me to behave this way. Stupid and reckless. It was dangerous for anyone to know that I was this happy about Lawrence’s death, but to hell with it, I didn’t care. He was dead, and my best friend was free of him.

“It was Leisel,” Angela mumbled.

“What was Leisel?” I asked.

“Leisel killed him.” Angela’s gaze dropped as more tears fell from beneath her lashes. “She killed him, Eve. And they’re going to execute her tomorrow.”

At her shocking words, I stumbled backward as if I’d been punched in the gut, as if Lawrence had just hit me with one of his vicious blows. Leisel, my innocent Leisel, had killed him? I shook my head, refusing to believe it, yet Angela was nodding like one of those obnoxious bobble-head figurines, smiling and forever bobbing its ridiculously large head.

Only Angela wasn’t smiling.

“Take me to her,” I said from between gritted teeth.

“I can’t. They’ve locked her up. She’s in the tower already. I have to go because if they notice that I’m gone…” Angela pressed her lips together and glanced away.

I didn’t bother pressing her for more. What was left to say?

Several seconds of uncomfortable silence passed before Angela turned away and opened the door. Glancing back over her shoulder, she swallowed thickly. “I’m so sorry, Eve.”

She really was sorry; I could see how genuinely sorry she was. She knew what Leisel meant to me, the lengths I would go to for her. And unlike the rest of the town, Angela had a vague idea of what Lawrence had put Leisel through.

Again, disbelief clouded my thoughts. Leisel had just killed a man in cold blood? It didn’t make sense, though I supposed that everyone had their limits. Worry for her began burning through my veins. What had he done to get her into such a state that she couldn’t take any more?

It all seemed so wrong, considering everything I thought I’d known about my best friend. How had such a sweet and caring woman, a total book nerd who’d taught half the kids in Fredericksville how to read and write, actually hurt someone? And she hadn’t just hurt him, but had ended him.

I should have seen it coming, should have realized that she’d been near the end of her rope. There were only so many times a person could be beat down, again and again and again, before they broke entirely. Leisel had obviously broken, and why wouldn’t she?

Hurting Leisel was like kicking a blind puppy—no one of sound mind would ever do such a thing. Lawrence, I finally decided, had gotten his just deserts, with no one to blame but himself.

How stupid we’d been, the both of us. Stupid for thinking that a small group of survivors that had happened on us in our darkest hour, promising safety and security, hadn’t had ulterior motives. We’d simply traded one hell for another.

I found myself sneering at the wall, remembering how happy I’d been for Leisel when Lawrence had chosen her to marry. He’d seemed such a strong leader at the time. In his early forties, charismatic and handsome, and more importantly, seeming so willing to do whatever it took to help rebuild our crumbling world. I’d even been a bit jealous, wishing I had a man who seemed so dependable and caring.

Until the first bruise had appeared; then I’d felt only anger and regret.

“How did she do it?” I called out after Angela’s quickly retreating form.

Turning, she anxiously looked in all directions. “She stabbed him,” she said quietly, swallowing nervously, her eyes still darting back and forth. Another heartbeat passed, then Angela gave me a pitying glance before running off down the path and disappearing into the night.

Shocked and horrified, I clasped a hand over my mouth. Why stabbing was so much worse than anything else, I didn’t know. Perhaps because it was so much more personal, so up close, and much more vicious than I would have ever expected of Leisel.

Surely this would help her. How clearly unravelled she must have become to resort to such extreme lengths, killing him in such a brutal and violent manner. In the old world it would have meant something, her defense would have been cut and dried, crystal clear to a jury as the evidence of her abuse was laid out for them. But in this new world, here in Fredericksville…