Chapter 15. Old Memories

Calla started to panic, staring at Tristan’s unmoving body. She couldn’t peel her eyes from the pool of blood on the restroom’s floor, and his body that had begun to turn pale blue.

She heard Rico sigh. He took his knife out of Tristan’s face and wiped the blade clean, shook his head slightly, and muttered, “Ah, che macello…” ‘Ah, what a mess…’

He turned to face her, and she flinched, her nails dug into her palms, and she didn’t know what to do or say.

He grinned at her and her breath got caught in her throat.

“Scared of a little blood?” He asked, twirling the blade in the air.

Of course, she was; she’s visibly shaking. But she was too prideful to admit it to him.

She shook her head hard, her eyes locking with his. “No. I’ve seen worse,” she said, her voice almost betraying her.

She hasn’t seen this much blood before.

Rico nodded. He moved to the door, and Calla backed away. He chuckled and clicked the door shut.

He pulled