Without Guilt

Chapter XIII: Responsibility

"Where is he?!" Layla's voice cut through the silence, though it was muffled behind the door.

Mason and Dorothy exchanged glances, a thundering knock following up on the door.

"Mason! Get out here!" She demanded.

"Alright, I'm comin', hold on!" Mason called, springing from his seat, and briefly looking around for somewhere to dispose of his drink before attending to the door. "What's wrong, Layla?" He asked, balking at the sight of her.

She had blood all over her hands and on her shirt, though she didn't appear hurt. "Where the hell is Meyer?" She hissed at him; anger mixed with upset in her dark eyes.

"Woah, slow down. Are you okay? What happened?" He questioned, his brows knotting with concern.

Layla took a short minute to breathe while shaking her head. "I just had to pick up Carlo from Will's place. He was so beat up I didn't recognise him." She exhaled, just now noticing how scary she must have looked.

"What? Is he okay-?" Mason began to ask but she cut him quickly.

"He's dead, Mason." She replied flatly. "Where's Otis?"

"What's Otis gotta do with that?" Mason inquired, shuffling uncomfortably.

"Because he put Ashton Lewis in Med and Carlo was practically dead on his doorstep." It took her all of three seconds to tell Mason was avoiding answering her. She gave him a firm push aside, slipping past him to get into the room.

"Hey- Layla!" Mason protested, briefly checking over his shoulder to make sure no one had followed her here before shutting the door. "It wasn't him! Well… He did shiv Lewis, but he didn't touch Carlo." He tried to explain hurriedly.

"Why would Murphy lie to me?" Layla turned on him, searching for answers.

"… Oh." Mason responded awkwardly, slowly smoothing out his shirt as he debated how to respond to that. "Because Ethan Murphy is a swindler and a liar?"

Layla huffed.

"Layla." Dorothy called her meekly, moving over to get her attention.

"Dorothy?" Layla seemed surprised to see her here. "I was looking for you in Med- where have you been? Are you okay? I heard you found William…" She stopped short as she noted what Dorothy was holding in her hands.

It was a small glass bowl from which needles were visible, the blood on them long dried.

"… What's that?" The woman inquired slowly.

"It's what Ethan Murphy and Ashton Lewis did to Meyer." Dorothy replied, motioning for her to follow her.

"Carlo was there too." Mason added. "Although you'll have to ask Scarlett for the full story, it probably would've been worse if she hadn't gotten in the middle of it."

Layla was torn between her frustration and concern for an old friend. She'd known Otis longer than most people had, she'd seen him smile and heard him laugh – something he had stopped doing eventually. But she'd also seen him kill and she knew what he was capable of when his anger took hold of him.

Doubt started to niggle at her mind as she came to a stop in front of the man. He looked pale as death, hardly awake in his seat, his left hand was wrapped in gauze and his torso was bandaged.

"Otis, you idiot..." She exhaled breathily as she moved towards him, grabbing him firmly by the collar of his open shirt.

Mason seemed ready to intervene, but her grip softened as Otis lifted his tired gaze to her.

"What the hell happened?" Layla questioned, shaking her head as she tried to maintain her composure. "What did you do to Murphy to end up like this?" She asked, giving him an angry thump to the shoulder.

Otis grunted in protest to the roughness, wincing from even the lightest nudge. He was feverish, radiating an uncomfortable amount of heat.

"Answer me!" Layla insisted, wanting to whole-heartedly believe that Otis had nothing to do with Carlo's death.

"Layla…" Dorothy called her quietly as she moved beside her. She'd set up an ice bath to deal with his fever, but first she needed Layla to not aggravate his condition further. "He can't talk right now."

Otis opened his mouth to show Layla. His mouth was full of gauze. He couldn't answer her even if he wanted to, and right now he just wanted to be left alone.

Layla stiffened, looking for all the world like she couldn't make sense of what she was seeing. She half turned to Dorothy for an explanation, but the nurse raised a shoulder in a half shrug.

"I think it's obvious." Mason interjected. "Murphy lied to you, did that to T so he couldn't say nothing. Murphy's just using you, Layla." He emphasised. "He was using Ashton Lewis and Carlo Romano too. When Carlo grew a conscience, he got rid of him. Now all you got is Murphy and Lewis' word against Scarlett."

Layla felt like her skull was ready to split in half, her head was boiling with pressure, and she felt like the world was spinning around her.

Otis lightly touched her wrist. Being left-handed, it was more of a nudge with his wrapped hand, trying to encourage her to sit down. She looked like she might hyperventilate at any moment. She didn't deal with death too well, she was strong sure and had seen nearly as many horrors in survival as he had, but she had also just lost someone she considered a dear friend.

"Let's get you sat down." Dorothy would guide her to sit on the nearby armchair, looking to Mason to get a glass of water.

"… I don't understand what's going on anymore." Layla admitted, her voice barely audible. "Why is Murphy looking for you, Dorothy? Why did he say Otis killed Carlo and ran outside the walls? Where the hell have Kumi Berko and Dominique Okoro been?"

"I'm just as lost as you." Mason agreed as he offered her the water, turning to Dorothy for answers.

Otis wouldn't give them any even if he could speak. He always said it was none of their business. It was a low blow, but Mason was far beyond the point of respecting Otis' stubbornness to care for it now and there was nothing Otis could do to stop Dorothy from answering.

Dorothy felt like there was a lump in her throat when they looked to her, overwhelmed with being put in the spotlight so suddenly. She couldn't hide behind Dominique or Otis right now. Dominique had gone off since Dorothy mentioned the antibiotics and Kumi had left the camp to reach Pier who was out on patrol.

It wasn't like she could hide behind Scarlett either – the woman had been through enough trauma for one day and hadn't the foggiest idea of where the problems all started. She'd worked herself into a worried fit over Pier and blamed herself for what happened to Otis and had cried herself to exhaustion. Scarlett right now was in the same sorry state that Dorothy had been in just three days ago and it was hardly fair to shift the responsibility on her now.

"I don't know why Murphy is looking for me. I don't even know what he looks like, I've never talked to him before." Her voice shook slightly as she attempted to answer the questions one by one. She couldn't even begin to imagine what Ethan wanted from her and since Otis hadn't been able to say anything, she hadn't even known the swindler was after her till now.

Mason found it strange too. Other than how upset Dorothy had been after William's death, he couldn't think of what Dorothy might have to do with Kumi and Dominique's strange behaviour. Surely Murphy didn't have anything on the two-

"Dorothy, I need you to be honest with me." He started slowly. "Did K and Dom do something they shouldn't have? Is that why they came to me to hide?"

Layla's brows knotted with concern as she looked to Mason. This whole thing was just getting more and more complicated. Now K and Dom had business with Murphy? She'd found their behaviour strange, sure, but she didn't think the two things were connected. "Why would Murphy go after Meyer if Kumi stole his things? I thought they weren't seeing eye-to-eye anymore?"

Mason shrugged. "Beats me. Otis just about kicked his teeth in upstairs, Kumi was still pretty fucking bitter about it too."

"So, Murphy had no idea they were fighting?" Layla supposed it made sense if no one else knew what had happened. Otis had asked her to keep it quiet, and right now he was staring at her and Mason for ignoring his presence. She offered him a half apologetic incline of her head but ultimately refused to meet his gaze. "Sorry, T. It's our business now, whether you like it or not."

Otis waved his good hand at Dorothy to get her attention, trying to motion for her to get him something to write with.

"She has to tell us, Otis." Mason insisted, misunderstanding the motion to mean something else.

"Just- wait a second, please. Just wait." Dorothy pleaded with them, overwhelmed with everything, but eager to get Otis to take over. "Mason, do you have something he can write with?" She asked, struggling just to remember how to communicate from the pressure she felt.

"What's he gonna say anyway? 'Don't get involved, Mace?'" Mason mocked cynically.

"Mason." Layla scolded him, making him sigh and move to get the inventory pad and pencil from the bar.

They all crowded around the man impatiently to see what he wrote once the items were delivered, Otis frowned hard at his bleary vision and unsteady hand. He couldn't write with his right hand, but he couldn't use his left right now either.

"What happened to his hand?" Layla asked distractedly.

"Ashton or Murphy went for his ring finger." Mason replied in a more nonchalant tone than he intended. He was as equally frustrated and emotionally exhausted as the rest of them, though perhaps more frustrated than anyone else for going so long on blind faith. Maybe he'd been going this long on the silly desire that Otis might return even a fraction of his feelings if he realised that no one else would support him like Mason did.

Right now, he was beginning to wonder if he hadn't mistaken Otis' kindness towards him in the past as some feeling of mutual affection. That and… he'd never stopped to consider if Otis didn't already have someone.

Mason looked from Layla to Dorothy with a new perspective. Either of these women could know more about Otis and his feelings than Mason ever did.

Otis was getting frustrated at his unsteady hand, feeling like a child learning to write for the first time. The letters looked skewed and stupidly out of proportion on the paper and he didn't even want to consider what else he'd struggle to do until his finger healed.

Dorothy didn't think this was healthy for him, but right now she was too dependent on him to answer on her behalf to speak up.

He finished writing and tore the paper free of the pad.

Finally, he let out a breath, the feeling of humiliation sitting like a familiar ball and chain in the pit of his stomach as he held the paper out to Mason since he was closest to him. His father had always said he was stupid and incapable of doing anything remotely simple, he would always be better off sitting quietly and doing as he's told.

Now he was doing just that.

Mason felt a little bad for the look he saw on his face, forcing himself to focus on the sheet without a word.

It read: 'DoM PRegn

AnT'.

Mason stared like he couldn't read anymore.

"What does it say?" Layla was too polite to snatch it from him, but her hand did hover close in silent request to take it.

Otis held his head in his hands, probably under the impression it was so badly written that Mason couldn't read it.

"Dom's pregnant." Mason stated bluntly.

Layla didn't hesitate to snatch the pad this time, Dorothy standing on her tiptoes to peer over Layla's arm and make sure that was in fact what was written.

Otis had said to tell Layla the moment he'd found out.

"Since when?! Did you know?" Layla looked to Dorothy.

"Yeah…" Dorothy shrunk back guiltily. "A while back… I didn't know they'd come to Mason- they said they'd go somewhere safe because William just… he kept badgering them and it was making Dom uncomfortable," She rambled, the more that spilled out, the lighter her chest became but the more the tears began to well up. "Kumi said they'd kill everyone if anyone found out, so I couldn't even tell Otis or you guys- why would they do that? Why?" The tears burned their all too familiar trail down her freckled cheeks and she furiously rubbed them away. She'd been crying too much recently, and her hair was beginning to fall out with stress.

Her nights were plagued by nightmares of masked men just showing up in the middle of the night and pulling her from her bed at gun point and all sorts of other awful variations.

She'd thought she could handle it. A new life was a blessing. But ever since William, she'd…

Layla took her in a firm hug, and she just melted into her.

Mason was pale as a sheet. "You knew and you just let… them carry on living here?"

"Mason." Layla warned.

"No! I'm done being nice to people who just fucking use me! I don't have to take shit from Kumi Berko just because he can't keep it in his fucking pants!" He fumed. "I tolerated all of his abusive shit, I even let her stay here rent free 'cuz I felt fucking sorry for her! She didn't have one ounce of fucking decency to tell me! Murphy is going to fucking have us all shot like dogs in the fucking street!"

Otis ignored the argument going on, retrieving the pencil again to scrawl something else. It was taking enough of his concentration to not shake Mason to his senses. Mason was gripped by panic, and he had the right to be.

"You have no right!" Layla went off on Mason though. "You took the payment for letting the stay, it's your own fault if you didn't think twice about filling your pockets!"

"Like fuck I don't! Keep acting like you're fucking holier than thou!" Mason snapped back at her. "We're all just trying to fucking survive here, doesn't mean we have to fucking lose everything for those two! They don't even care about any of us!"

"Don't you talk to me that way! Watch your language!" Layla hissed.

"Please stop!" Dorothy sobbed.

The very thing her and Otis had been afraid of had happened. It was a hand grenade without a pin and now they'd dropped it and were watching it detonate at their feet.

"You're right," Mason took in a deep breath, rubbing his face as he tried to calm down. "This ain't your fault." He acknowledged, though he would hold back on Dorothy even if he thought she was partially responsible for their predicament. "But we need a way out of this fucking mess. I want those two gone, you can go back to William's place or wherever the fuck, I don't care." He indicated Dorothy.

Dorothy couldn't even look at him, her tears silent as Layla gently rubbed her back.

"It's fine. That's your right." Layla told Mason. "We just need to deal with Murphy, I'll try and see how much he knows. He seems to think Otis isn't here so he shouldn't bother you anyway."

Otis weakly reached for Mason's arm once he was done writing, having to push himself to stand since Mason wasn't paying him any attention. His body ached with the effort, his insides feelings like they were being pushed out from his wound which drew a grunt.

"Otis-" Mason's demeanour immediately softened as he grabbed the man to steady him.

Otis panted from the exertion, trying to muffle the whimper of pain but he was so winded that he easily collapsed into Mason's arms, the note being crumpled in his hand.

"Fuck, T, you're hot as hell!" Mason winced from the feverishness of the other man, cupping his face gently.

"I drew… an ice bath." Dorothy sniffled as she pulled away from Layla, wiping her face with her oversized sleeve. "It should help a little, but I can't really… go in there with him." She implied.

"I got 'im." Mason assured, perhaps a bit too eagerly though it was more that he could do something that no one else here could. That being said, Otis was not a light man to carry so he had to support his weight on him rather than carry him.

Dorothy made to follow but Layla held her back gently.

"Let them talk. He needs a bit of space to cool off." Layla told her.

Please R&R!