Killing Season

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Killing Season Page 30

by Faye Kellerman


  “You know I love you.” JD sipped champagne. “You just gotta understand guys. We’re dogs. We need training. To train us properly, you need to dole out the treats for good behavior.”

  Ro hit him. “I gave you plenty of treats.”

  JD leaned over and kissed her cheek. “With someone as hot as you, it’s never enough.”

  Her head started spinning. She shivered. “You still have that blanket in the back?”

  JD grinned. “I do.”

  “Stop smirking. I’m cold. You turned off the motor. Why did you do that?”

  “Because with the motor on, the car is more visible to the cops and we are underage and drinking, my love.” He reached over and then tumbled into the backseat. He pulled the blanket from the hatch. “Come here, Ro. I promise I won’t assault you.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Yeah, that’s probably smart. I’m a total bullshitter.”

  Takes one to know one, she thought. When she didn’t move, he laughed and leaned over to the front, where she was still sitting. “C’mon!” He grabbed her arm and pulled her over. She tumbled into the back and then they both started laughing.

  He was tipsy, but she was soused. “You’re gonna take advantage of me, right?”

  “I sure hope so.” JD kissed her and then kissed her again. His hands started roaming. Not that it bothered Ro. Both JD and his body were familiar territory and it felt nice. It felt good, much better than when they were going together because there was no honor to protect.

  He was on top before she could protest, her head orbiting outer space. Kissing her while trying to yank down her panties.

  “Stop!” she said.

  And he did. “Yes?”

  Ro was dizzy. “Nothing.”

  He started kissing her again. And she kept kissing him because she was cold and he was warming her up, because his kisses felt good and she was drunk. And because she didn’t push him away, he tried again. He was inches from starting the act, but he stopped himself. His eyes looked into hers, waiting for permission.

  Damn him.

  It would have been better if he had forced her. She tried to stall but she wasn’t thinking clearly. She slurred out, “Not without a condom.”

  “Oh . . . right!” He got off, leaned over to the front seat, and opened the glove compartment.

  Of course he’d have condoms.

  Ro didn’t remember what she said to him. But she did remember that he said all the right things. And to be honest, especially in her state, she had become a little curious. Nothing wrong with that. It felt good. But it also felt dirty, and not in a good way. She took back all the evil thoughts she had about Lisa and Shannon. It was bad enough that she let him do it once. But then they did it again. He probably would have done it a third time except the booze was finally wearing off and she told him she needed to get home.

  For once he did most of the talking. How much he loved her, how it was going to be different, how he had changed and was a better person because of what happened, blah, blah, blah.

  She was listening with half an ear—mad at him but madder at herself. The day was shit, the night was shit, and then, as he approached her house, she knew things were only going to get shittier.

  She sat up. “That’s Vicks’s car. Keep driving!”

  “What?”

  “Just go around the block!” JD complied and when he was several houses away, she said, “Drop me off here.”

  “What?”

  “Pull over!” Ro yelled.

  He stopped the car but took her arm before she could leave. “He’s gonna know what happened. Let me come in with you.”

  “Not a chance!”

  “Please, Dorothy.” His voice went soft. “C’mon. I love you. What kind of a guy would I be if I didn’t come in with you?” He touched her face, wiped away the tears on her cheek. “I’m not about to let you walk in pitch-dark in freezing weather.”

  “We’re two houses away. I need to think.”

  “I’m going to pull up in front of your house. He’s gonna know, so there’s no sense in the charade, okay.”

  “Don’t come in with me.” As soon as he hit the driveway, she got out of the car. She poked her head back inside. “Go away. I’ll see you in school tomorrow.”

  “You’re not acting smart.”

  “That seems to be my theme song tonight.” She slammed the door, dried her face, took a deep breath, and went inside her house. Ben was sitting on the sofa, dressed in a suit and tie, looking more gorgeous than she had ever seen him. She had this overwhelming desire to make love to him, to undo what had been done. But one look at his face and she knew that wasn’t going to happen. He had been talking to Griff, but when she came in, Griff got up and walked off to his room and closed the door.

  Like they say, the best defense is a good offense. Ro wanted the right tone of coolness and indignation. “Nice of you to call.”

  He said, “I called around a hundred times. Check your phone.”

  “I lost my phone.”

  “Check your purse.”

  “I lost my phone, Ben.”

  “Check your purse.” His voice was quietly insistent.

  And there was her cell. She stared at it like it was an alien object. “How did . . .”

  “Did you happen to complain to JD that I wasn’t calling you?” When Ro was silent, Ben said, “Thought so. He took it out when you weren’t looking.”

  She scrolled down. There were around twenty missed calls, starting around three in the afternoon.

  Ben’s contempt made her wither. “You know you can check your messages even if you don’t have your phone.” When she didn’t answer, he said, “You thought I forgot.”

  She couldn’t talk. Tears started pouring out of her eyes. Not that he’d notice. He wasn’t looking at her.

  “I wanted to surprise you,” he said. “Once in a while I’d like to do something that wasn’t choreographed by you.” He rubbed his eyes. “Well, that certainly backfired.” He stood up. “I’m going now.”

  “No, don’t.” She was pleading. “Please stay.”

  “You’re kidding me, right?” He waited. “No, Dorothy, I’m not staying. I am definitely not staying! And you know you reek of booze, right?”

  She was light-headed, but this time it wasn’t from champagne. “Nothing happened.”

  “Don’t tell me that,” Ben whispered. “You may not have had sex with him . . . but something definitely happened.” He reached in his pocket, pulled out a small, wrapped package, and threw it on the couch. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

  She heard his car start and then the sound faded into nothingness. She sat down, breathing hard and shaking from the cold and guilt. She made a stab at wiping her tears away, but all that did was smear her makeup.

  Her brain whirled with rationalizations. It was as much his fault as it was hers. They were both probably better off. What did it matter anyway? He was never around. He agreed to the stupid arrangement with JD. It was just high school. Who cared anyway?

  His gift, lying on the couch, was wrapped in silver foil with a red bow. She picked it up and pulled the card out of the envelope. It had a smiling heart on the front. Her eyes were blurry from crying and fatigue, but not blurry enough because she could make out Ben’s handwriting.

  My gorgeous Dorothy,

  I had given up on everything. You brought me back to life.

  I love you now and will love you forever and always.

  Ben

  Dry-eyed, she slipped the card back in the envelope and opened the gift. It was a white-gold bracelet chain studded with small diamonds. Her hands were shaking too hard to open the clasp, so she forced her fingers through the opening and managed to get it onto her wrist without breaking it. It was beautiful. Left to his own devices, the boy had great taste.

  She took off JD’s earrings and stared at them. She had wanted bling; she got her bling.

  She took the wrapping, the box, and the card and lo
cked herself in her bedroom. There she lay on her bed without bothering to get undressed.

  Too numb to cry.

  She always knew she was shallow. But until today, she didn’t know that she was also terrible.

  Clearly the wrong sister had died.

  Chapter 9

  “Hey, beautiful.” JD’s eyes were twinkling. “How’s the hottest girl on the planet?”

  Ro blinked several times, trying to contain her anger. She had gotten no sleep last night and predictably, she was in a horrible mood. “Did you take my phone out of my purse and then put it back at the end of the evening?” When he was quiet, she whispered, “Don’t ever talk to me again.”

  “Hey!” He grabbed her arm as she walked away. “I’m talking to you.”

  “Let go of me!”

  He dropped her arm. “You can be pissed all you want—”

  “I wasn’t asking for permission.” Again, she started to walk away.

  “Don’t lay this all on me, Ro,” he shouted to her back. “There were two people there.”

  When she looked over her shoulder, he was in front of his locker. Missing the combination on the first try, he banged the door so hard he dented it. Everyone turned around. He banged it again and again. At that point, Ro had a choice. She could walk on, nursing her victimhood, or she could admit the truth, which she didn’t do too often. That it was her own bad behavior that had led to this debacle.

  Sighing, she did an about-face. JD was breathing hard as he slammed the door a final time. It was totally warped.

  “You’re going to have to pay for that.” He didn’t say anything, just continued to snort. She whispered, “JD, you got me drunk.”

  “You weren’t drunk. You were tipsy and so was I.” He turned to face her. “The only difference is I meant everything I said last night.” He lowered his voice. “You know why those crappy teenage Hollywood movies always end with the good-looking jock getting fucked in the ass? Because in real life, the Tom Bradys get the Gisele Bündchens. They’re all jealous! Everyone just loves it when I fuck up.”

  He looked straight into her eyes.

  “You dumped me and you did it in front of my friends. It was a little embarrassing.”

  “I asked if we could talk privately. You told me to talk in front of your friends.”

  “Because you came with him and everyone knew what was gonna happen. I figured if I took it in public, it would be better.” A pause. “Why’d you bring Vicks with you? Why didn’t you just call me up or something? It wasn’t any of his business.”

  “He insisted on coming. He said you had a temper.”

  “Like he could protect you if I unloaded?”

  “He could shield me so I could run.” Her attempt at humor fell flat. “I’m sorry if it embarrassed you.”

  “He wanted to see me suffer.”

  “He’s not like that. He doesn’t hate you. Well, maybe now he does. Now he hates both of us.”

  “Seriously.” He shook his head. “Can we start over? Last night was all I ever wanted.”

  “That and football.”

  “What’s better than love and football?”

  “You mean sex and football.”

  “You don’t understand dudes, Ro. With us, sex is love. If a dude is saying he loves you and isn’t trying to jump your bones, he likes Broadway musicals and flower arranging. And let me tell you something about gay dudes. They bang more than anyone.”

  She placed her hands on his steely chest, and he brought her into a sweet embrace. It felt really good to be loved, but she knew he was the wrong person. “JD, I have to make this right with Vicks.”

  “Forget it, Ro. Once he writes you off, he’s done.”

  “I have to try anyway.” Her eyes became wet. “I love him, JD. I can’t help it.”

  He dropped his arms. “You slept with me. He’s not going to forgive you . . . unless you lie.”

  “If I lied to him, would you tell him the truth?”

  He shook his head. “No. I won’t blow your cover. He’s not a rat, but neither am I.” He took her hand and looked at the newest piece of jewelry dangling from her wrist. “He gave this to you?”

  “More like he threw it on my couch when he left.”

  JD’s jaw bulged out of his cheek. “Believe it or not, I am capable of guilt. I fucked him over. He doesn’t deserve that, not after what he’s gone through.”

  “But you did it anyway.”

  “And I’d probably do it again. You are so worth it.” When she remained quiet, he sighed. “Go figure it out, Ro. But you know you’re only prolonging your own misery.”

  Ro knew he was right. “You know, JD, I’ve had a boyfriend since I was thirteen. Maybe I need to learn how to live without constant attention from the opposite sex.”

  “That’s not going to happen either. We live to be adored.” He shrugged. “You don’t need a boyfriend. But it’s stupid for you not to have a boyfriend. I love you, baby. Every time I see you, my perfectly conditioned heart goes all aflutter.” When she smiled, he said, “You at least like me, right?”

  “There’s part of me that loves you.”

  “Okay, that’s good. I love you and you love me partly.” Silence. “I’ll make it right, Ro. Just you and me. I swear.”

  Ro stroked his face. “I’m going down to Albuquerque tonight, JD. I know Vicks will slam the door in my face, but I need to try.”

  “Fine. Once he rejects you, can we get back together?”

  “JD, I need to think. I need to confront my demons.”

  “That’s a very bad idea. All self-flagellation will do is make you sore.”

  “I know. But right now, I have to try even if I fall on my face.” She paused. “Will you still love me with a crushed nose?”

  “I will, but not as much.” JD threw up his hands. “You know where to find me.”

  “I do now that I have my phone again. Whether I call you or not is up for grabs.”

  Ro ditched cheerleading and drove straight down to Albuquerque, finally steeling up the courage to listen to the messages that Ben left for her last night. The first few were superexcited—get dressed up, he’ll meet her at her house at five. Then those were followed by annoyance in his voice. Then his voice was worried. Where are you? Finally, she hit the last one.

  “Hi, it’s me again. I just talked to Shannon Stork and . . . she said you went out to dinner with JD. So . . . I guess when you didn’t hear from me right away . . . you made plans.”

  Click.

  She had messed up royally. It had been pure self-destruction.

  She had always been an attention hog. When Gretchen got sick, and everything was rightly focused on her, Ro was smart enough to keep her egotistical needs in check, but in truth, she was resentful. It was Gretchen this and Gretchen that, and it made Ro angry. Just because Gretchen was dying didn’t mean Ro wasn’t alive.

  Stupid, stupid, stupid.

  After Gretchen had passed, Griff, being Griff, faded into the background and everyone became focused on her. She was the star again and it felt good even though she knew it shouldn’t. She never felt the so-called survivor’s guilt.

  And then Ben came along. When they started going together, Ro was deliriously happy. Still, there was one little itty-bitty feeling in her mind that Vicks would have liked Gretchen better than her. There wasn’t a thieving, cheating, conniving bone in her sister’s diseased body. Ro wondered if her outrageous behavior last night was just a clumsy way of admitting defeat to her sister’s ghost.

  As she drove, the weather picked up. Snow flurries dotted the window and the highway. It wasn’t all that cold, but the sky held dark clouds. She wondered what she’d say to Ben’s grandparents. They were nice folks but they would hate her if Ben told them what happened. But she doubted he would and she doubted he had. When she arrived at the house, the skies had become obscured by falling snow. Grandma Pauline was welcoming. Ben wasn’t home yet, but she invited Ro to come in and wait.

  Wa
iting and waiting and waiting until it became embarrassing. Ro tried calling him. She tried texting him. She tried e-mailing him. No answer. She made excuses, told his grandmother that her phone had died. Could she please call and ask where he was? The old woman couldn’t reach him either. She peeked out the window. “I wish he’d get home soon.”

  “I’m sure he’s fine.”

  “You can’t drive home in this weather, Ro.”

  “I’ll sleep over. Don’t worry, Pauline. I’ll wait up for him. Please go to bed.”

  She was unconvinced, but retreated into the bedroom. Ro continued to wait up, listening to the howling winds, shivering as the temperature dropped in the house. She wrapped a blanket around her shoulders, took off her shoes, and lay on the couch, hoping it would all just go away.

  The door opened at eleven thirty. He wasn’t surprised to see her, but he wasn’t happy about it. He didn’t speak. His hair was a fright, his face was pasty, and his eyes were underlined with big black circles. He looked at his watch. His eyes were somewhere past her face. She said, “Ben, can we please, please talk?”

  He looked at his watch again. “No, we can’t. It took me forty minutes to get home. I’m dog tired and I’ve got a big test and a full day of work tomorrow.” He glanced at his watch a third time. “You can’t go back. It’s too late and it’s horrible outside. The road conditions are ripe for fatalities. Just wait until morning, okay.”

  “At least you don’t want me to die.” She gave him a smile that immediately withered on her face.

  He said, “You can have my room. I’ll bunk in one of the other rooms. Do you need some pajamas or something?”

  “You have sweats?”

  “I do. Hold on.” He disappeared into his room and she followed. He handed her a T-shirt and some pants. “Is this okay?”

  Ro grabbed his arm. “Just give me a few minutes, okay?” When he didn’t answer, she said, “Please? I love you.” He refused to look at her. “Really. I do love you. Really and truly.” When he still didn’t answer, she pleaded, “Say something!”

  “I’m tired, Ro.” He gently extricated his arm from her grip. “Please . . . be considerate, okay?”

 

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