It took only a moment for the situation before Keon to soak in, and only a second later for him to rush to her, arms open as he wrapped them around her soaked, thin frame. The frigid cold emanated from her body.
"It's going to be okay," he told her, voice low. He could feel her shake at his words, empty ones that were only meant for comfort. The truth of the situation was far more serious, and words meant nothing while your world shattered around you.
Lucky had approached them quietly and handed her a towel. They helped her to the table in the back and sat down with her. Although she had yet to speak, the emotions on her face were enough to tell them how her mind was racing, lost in what ifs and whys.
She had killed her master, and it was only a matter of time before they came looking for her.
Murder was a trip straight to the electric chair, no questions asked, no trial needed. Clones weren't deserving of a fair trial, and even though the courts said otherwise, they would rather shut Blue up than have her story reach the ears of those fighting for the cause of Clone rights.
This was one they didn't want to get out to the public. It would be a disaster if it did, with news outlets spreading truth and lies while weaving their own story into it.
Keon turned to Lucky. "We have to hide her."
Lucky sighed, hands pulling at his hair. "I know that. Just... give me a minute. I'm trying to think." Even his friend looked torn, mind probably moving a mile a minute as he treated to figure out what to do.
The fan whirred above them, the noise drowning out any coherent thought Keon could come up with.
Blue stared down at her hands, eyes unmoving. It was a surprise she had made it to the bar at all. He wondered how long ago it happened, how long before she even made it to them?
This was a situation they hadn't prepared for. The first thing the authorities would do was track down the places she frequented the most. She wasn't safe at the bar or her apartment with Bait and Dolce. Speaking of where were they? Were they okay?
He turned toward Blue and grabbed the towel as he gently started wiping the blood from her hands. It was caked under her nails and her sleeves were a deep crimson. Her hands trembled in his, and yet she refused to show how damaged she truly was. Keon could only guess.
The thought made him sick.
Blue's master, known by many for being a piece of trash, was a scum of a human. Keon didn't know how many times he saw her arms bruised all the way up, eyes puffy, feet twisted.
"Did anyone see you leave?" Keon questioned, hands still at work. The blood dried and he had to put more pressure to get it off.
"No," she said and finally looked up at him. Her makeup was running down her face, smearing it black. "Bait and Dolce are in trouble."
How could she think about anyone else in her situation? Keon couldn't comprehend, could not understand how the survival of others took precedence over her own. Maybe that was his own survival instincts kicking in, or maybe it was something else from deep in his psyche.
He didn't want to think about it.
"I got it handled," Lucky finally chimed in. "I'm sending someone to the apartment now to pick them up. Most likely, they will show up here to question me about it. I gotta call Jaye and we need to find you guys somewhere safe to stay soon."
Keon nodded in agreement. The life of a fugitive was all that awaited her, but she didn't look sad about that at all. Who knows, maybe somewhere deep down it filled her with relief, finally free from the chains that held her.
"I don't regret killing him," she whispered suddenly, voice firm.
Keon's orbs widened as his gaze found hers, broken yet determined.
Just then there was a knock on the side door, and all the color drained from Blue's face.
She didn't want to get caught. Didn't want to die. It was a universal feeling felt by humans and clones alike.
There was another knock, this time louder.
That door was for Lucky's side business... who would knock so late at night?