Chapter 37
Ronan slammed the door behind him and locked it as soon as he entered his house.
He didn't head to Dean's. The last thing he needed was Dean's wide eyes and a dozen questions about why he had so much blood on him. He didn't have the energy to lie, and he sure as hell wasn't in the mood to explain how he caved a guy's throat in tonight all because his system ordered him to.
He tossed his shirt straight into the trash. No point in washing that mess.
His hands were still shaking,not from fear, not even regret. Just… aftermath. The kind of wired, numb tremble that comes after doing something you can't undo.
The bathroom light buzzed as he flicked it on. He stared at himself in the mirror for a second, then looked away. Not because he was ashamed.
But because he didn't want to start getting used to that look. His face all stained with blood, his eyes dead and emotionless. Everything about him screamed a cold hearted killer.
