by B. B. Hamel
I blew again. The dog looked back over its shoulder, but didn’t move from its spot near the door.
Then Jarrod hit the fence with the branch.
That got its attention. I blasted the whistle and the dog walked over, ears perked up, hackles raised.
Jarrod crept back to the woods, but before he disappeared through the bushes, he stood up and stared back at the dog.
For a long beat, nobody moved. The dog saw him, and Jarrod grinned back.
Then Jarrod turned and ran.
And the dog chased.
“Good boy,” Jarrod said, crashing into the underbrush.
I shoved the whistle away then started to run. The dog barked at Jarrod as it crashed into the woods. Jarrod led it down a path, away from the house, and the dog kept barking. I angled toward them, pulling a leash out from my pocket. It was long and blue, and although we didn’t have a dog, my parents hadn’t noticed when I came home with it.
They didn’t see much.
Jarrod kept running, leading the dog deeper and deeper, until he finally turned around. The dog danced around him, barking and barking. Jarrod approached, hand out, and the dog gave him a tentative sniff, his tail wagging the whole time.
“Good boy,” Jarrod said. “Good little Lab. See, this is what I like about Labradors. They make a lot of noise, but if you’re nice to them, they’re always friendly.” The dog let Jarrod scratch his neck as I approached with the leash.
The dog licked my hand as I attached it to his collar.
“Gotcha,” I said, letting him sniff my legs. I scratched his flank and held on tight as he tried to pull away. “We’re staying here, bud.”
The dog looked at me, tail wagging. He had no clue what was about to happen. How the hell could he?
“Hoagie!” The voice was distant but echoed into the forest.
I looked over to tell Jarrod to get into position, but he was already gone.
Hoagie’s tail wagged faster as he pulled toward Dr. Silver’s voice.
“Not yet, bud,” I whispered, pulling him along. “This way. Come on, Hoagie. That’s right, you’re a good boy.” Hoagie came with me, although he didn’t seem to want to.
“Hoagie! Where are you, bud? Hoagie, come! Come here, Hoags!” Dr. Silver sounded surprisingly upset, which was hard for me to fathom. It was almost like the monster has a heart—but I knew that wasn’t true.
The worst thing about demons was their ability to fit in anywhere. They could wear a mask, a lifelike and near-perfect simulacrum of a regular human being, but beneath the lies they were still a slobbering devil.
That was Dr. Silver: he could pass as a normal person, but I knew there was a horror lurking underneath his skin.
I steered Hoagie into a clearing not far from the house. The dog wanted to pull away and go after his owner, but I held him tight with both hands. He was a little guy, maybe sixty or seventy pounds at most, and all he wanted to do was run away.
“Sorry, bud, but we don’t have time to play,” I whispered, trying to calm him.
“Hoagie! Come! Come on, bud. Where are you, Hoags?” A flashlight beam swept through the woods.
My heart raced in a wild, uneven rhythm.
This was my last chance. He hadn’t seen me yet—I could drop the leash and run. I could call this whole thing off and never go through with something so terrible.
I didn’t have to stain my soul for revenge.
But I was already soiled. Dr. Silver made that decision for me a long time ago. I walked the path he set out for me by taking away my innocence and tossing me into the whims and passions of chance and happenstance.
I couldn’t turn back. Not when everything I’d always wanted was so close.
“Over here!” I called out.
I heard stomping through the bushes and trees. The flashlight beam got closer and closer—
Until a man stepped into the clearing.
He was a black shape. I couldn’t see him because of the light. It made him formless, shapeless, a shadow abnormality. Hoagie pulled against the leash, but I held the dog tight.
“Oh, wow, thanks,” Dr. Silver said. I recognized the voice from all those years ago. It was seared into my brain, and it hadn’t changed much. “He never gets out like this. I guess I left the gate open earlier today.”
“That’s okay, no problem.” I didn’t let Hoagie go. I needed to keep Dr. Silver’s attention on me. “Sorry, can you turn off that light or move it down or something?”
“Sorry about that.” He lowered the beam to the ground.
His shape resolved itself into a tired-looking middle-aged man with messy hair, a simple fleece jacket, and a pair of dark sweats. He had slippers on his feet and looked like he was about to slip into bed.
This was my tormentor. I spent so much time thinking about him, and now that he stood so close, I almost didn’t recognize his face. He’d gotten older, sadder, thinner. I remembered a hale young man with crinkles around his eyes and strong hands, but this skeleton ghoul looked more like he was an inch away from passing out. He’d gotten old and gray, and some part of me rebelled against that.
How dare he age like everyone else? I was ageless, stuck as a little girl because of what he did to me. How dare he get older when I couldn’t?
“Is this your dog? He’s real nice. Came right up to me.”
“That’s Hoagie. He’s a sweet boy.” He took a few steps closer. “What are you doing out here in the middle of the night?”
“I like to go for walks sometimes when I can’t sleep.” The rehearsed words slipped out like they were true. I could almost believe them.
“Huh, that’s interesting. I’ve never seen you before.” He squinted in the dark.
I kept my chin up, meeting his eye.
I wanted him to recognize me. I wanted to see the shock on his face, the bloom of memory in his eyes as he recalled what happened.
Except I got none of that.
He kept a blank smile plastered on his lips and held a hand out. “I’ll take him home now if you don’t mind,” he said.
“Actually, I do mind.”
He hesitated but the smile didn’t go away. The man was a pro. “Sorry, I’m not sure what you mean.”
“I’m not giving you the dog back. In fact, I’m not letting you go anywhere.”
He laughed but there was real uncertainty in his tone. “Are you playing some weird game? It’s really late, I’d like to take my dog back home, please.”
“You know what hurts the most? You don’t even know who I am.” I took a step toward Dr. Silver, toward the man I hated the most in this world, and gripped the leash harder. Hoagie seemed to sense something was wrong, but he only stood next to me, staring at his owner. “I didn’t know that’d hurt, but it really does.”
“Were you a patient of mine?” he asked brightly. “I’m sorry, I’ve seen a lot of people come in and out of my office, it’s hard to keep track of them all.”
“My parents brought me in. I was eight years old and so scared, but you said to me, don’t worry, I’ll take care of you. I promise. And you know what’s fucked up? I believed you.”
“This must’ve been at least ten years ago.”
“Longer. It feels like a lifetime to me.”
“What’s your name?”
“My name’s Cora. I liked the way you said it. It was comforting. You had me undress and get into a gown, then I climbed up on the table. It was so cold, but you rubbed your hands together to warm them up, which I thought was nice. You cracked my neck, then my back, then you grabbed my butt—” I stopped, hands shaking. I hadn’t gone into detail before.
Jarrod could hear. I didn’t care. This was important.
“I think you’re mistaken—” He started, but I interrupted him.
“You grabbed my butt,” I said harshly. “And you said, ‘You’re a well-built little girl. Look at you. Very well-built.’ Then you squeezed, and spread me open, and you put your fingers inside of me—”
&nb
sp; “I would never,” Dr. Silver protested. “This is ludicrous. I don’t know who you are, but—”
“If there’s any humanity left in your pathetic, withered heart, you won’t speak again.” I stepped closer. Hoagie shadowed me. “You put your fingers inside of me and you said, ‘Look at you, very well-built.’ You kept them inside. I didn’t understand why, but you seemed to like it, and I thought it would help me. Isn’t that so messed up? I thought you were helping me.”
Jarrod crashed through the bushes. Dr. Silver let out a strangled cry of surprise, but he couldn’t get away. Jarrod grabbed the chiro’s right wrist and twisted it behind his back. Dr. Silver released a strangled groan of pain and Hoagie whimpered as Jarrod shoved a knife against the man’s neck and held it there.
Dr. Silver stopped moving. He looked up and there was fear in his expression.
“If you misinterpreted something I did, I’m sorry. I don’t do that to children. There’s a thing in clinical psychology when a victim confuses a person of authority with their attacker called—”
“Enough,” I said, so angry I could barely contain it. “You raped me. You shoved your fingers inside of me, and you did the same thing to my brother. He told me, you sick bastard. He told me. His name is Sam Boyle. My name is Cora Boyle. You’re finally going to pay for what you did.”
Recognition sparked. I saw it then. “I remember your parents. They were nice people. If I really did what you say I did, why haven’t you told anyone?”
“I did.” Tears streamed down my face. They began to freeze as they dropped onto my sweatshirt. “They didn’t believe me.”
“Maybe because it didn’t happen. I’m so sorry, but I’d never do that to a child. This is all some misunderstanding. If we can sit down and talk, we can explore—”
“Do it,” I said, the rage oozing from my lips, and backed away.
I met Jarrod’s eyes. He stared back at me, a strange dispassion on his face.
“We can talk,” Dr. Silver said.
Jarrod plunged the knife into his throat.
Blood spouted out. Dr. Silver tried to say something else, but it came out a gurgle. Hoagie tore forward, ripping the leash from my hand. Jarrod jerked the knife out, jabbed it in one more time, tearing the blade free as he kicked Dr. Silver to the ground.
Blood gushed out from his body. Jarrod stepped back, gripping the bloody knife, as Hoagie danced around his owner’s dying body.
I stared at the man that haunted my dreams as he twitched and groaned and writhed, trying to staunch the bleeding.
But there was no stopping it.
I knew how he felt. He’d bleed for minutes, while I bled for years. I felt like I oozed day and night, dripping emotions, anger, rage, resentment, covering the ground with my droppings, my failures, my wrecked life. Dr. Silver looked up at me, and I saw nothing there, no absolution, no truth, no admission of guilt.
Only a scared man dying in pain.
Jarrod grabbed Hoagie and unclipped the leash. He wrapped it tight and shoved it in his pocket. The dog barely seemed to notice. Hoagie sniffed and whined, moving around Dr. Silver as he gushed his life into the dirt.
It took longer than I expected, but slowly, the bastard stopped moving, then went still.
Silence descended on the forest.
Jarrod stared down at the man he’d killed and looked bored. He knelt next to the dying man and did something—inspected his fingers maybe? I couldn’t tell because Hoagie was prancing around anxiously.
“We should go,” I said softly, looking around the woods like the cops might leap out from behind a tree at any moment.
He only nodded, stood, and walked to me.
I let him take my hand. “What about the dog?” I asked, but he was already drawing me away.
“Don’t worry. It’s a good dog. Someone will give it a good home.” We headed along the path, through the underbrush, and past the houses. The dog didn’t bark this time. There was nobody outside of the party. We reached the truck and Jarrod wrapped the knife in a microfiber cloth.
“What are you going to do with that?” I had to focus on practicalities before the truth of what we’d done settled.
“Get rid of it. Can’t risk the cops finding it.”
“You could clean the blood off.”
“Might not do a perfect job.” He shook his head and started the engine. “Let me worry about it.”
I shrugged and sank back in my seat.
It was done. Dr. Silver was dead. He’d never rape another child again.
My hands were shaking as I stared out the window.
I watched a man die. A horrible man, but still a human being.
I watched him bleed to death.
And I was part of the murder.
He’d still be alive if it weren’t for me.
What would that mean? How could I keep going now?
Not like it mattered. We did the impossible.
Jarrod parked outside of my house. He killed the engine and stared at me. I looked back, suddenly very aware of what I owed him.
My body. My virginity.
“Go inside. Tell your parents you’re tired and go straight to bed.”
“Okay, I can do that.”
“Don’t do anything you wouldn’t normally do. Lie down in bed, close your eyes, and sleep.”
I chewed on my lip. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. You’re shaking.”
I looked down at myself. He was right—I was shivering, despite the truck’s heater.
“Adrenaline.”
“Sure. Go to sleep, Cora.”
“What now? I mean, they’re going to investigate that, right?”
“Forget it ever happened. All you need to focus on is going to sleep.”
I turned away and grabbed the door handle. “I know what you want from me,” I said softly, not moving. “You’re going to claim it, right?”
“Yes, I am.” His fingers brushed the hair on my neck. “Our deal isn’t nearly finished. But you don’t have to think about that right now.”
I closed my eyes. “Go inside. Go to sleep. I can do that.”
“Goodnight, freak.”
I pushed open the door and stepped out into the night.
11
Cora
I expected to roll around until sunrise. Instead, I slept a dreamless black nothing and startled awake with my alarm.
I killed it, got out of bed, and took a shower.
The water felt like it always did. My towel was the same. My room was the same.
My world hadn’t changed.
I didn’t know what I expected. Trumpets? Singing angels? Something to mark the before times and the after times.
A world with my molester and a world without him.
I had nothing.
Only the memory of what happened.
I could still smell the sharp tang of blood in the air. I could taste the biting cold wind. I could feel the dog tug against the leash.
I could hear Dr. Silver gurgle his last breath as his blood pooled around him.
His death, my rape. They were intertwined now in the past. Lost and gone. I couldn’t go back to them, even if I wanted.
They happened, and now they were lost.
And I still felt the same.
I dressed, mumbled good morning to my mother, and met Robyn out front. I climbed into the car and rubbed my arms as she headed toward campus. It was a crisp morning, bright and sunny—a gorgeous winter day.
I expected clouds. I committed a murder the night before.
“You look tired.” Robyn suppressed a smile as she glanced at me.
“Good morning to you too.”
“You slept okay?”
“I was up late watching The Office.”
“Again? How many times now?”
I closed my eyes. “Five. No, six.”
“Impressive.”
“It’s my comfort show.”
“Got any particular reason for needing that co
mfort?” She stared straight ahead with a little smile on her lips.
Dr. Silver’s throat gushing with blood. His fingers pressing at the wound as he died.
“Not really. Just a long week.”
“I’m sure tutoring my cousin isn’t easy.”
I grimaced and tried not to let her see it. “He’s not so bad.”
“Oh, come on. He’s a total asshole to everyone. We both know he’s a jerk.”
“You’re the one that’s constantly defending him.”
Her smile faltered. I’d spoken with a little too much anger and instantly regretted it. “Okay, yeah, I guess that’s fair.”
“I’m sorry. I’m just tired, is all.”
“I know what people think about Jarrod. And I’m not blind to the way he treats me.”
“So why do you let him get away with it?” I was too curious not to ask. Every time I brought this subject up in the past, she got defensive and the conversation instantly shut down.
“It’s hard to explain. He’s one person to everyone else and another person when we’re alone at home. I know that doesn’t excuse anything, but still.”
I chewed on my cheek. “No, it really doesn’t, but I think I know what you mean.”
“He’s nice to you in private too?”
“I wouldn’t say nice.”
She laughed. It sounded bitter and manic, like she was suppressing something and had been for a long time. “You’re right, I wouldn’t either. More like, protective and gruff. Like he gives a shit, but won’t let himself be soft.”
“That’s exactly what I thought.”
“Unfortunately, beneath all those layers of macho asshole, I’m not sure there’s a nice young man hiding away.”
I looked out the window. If only she knew.
We parted ways on campus. I had a math class—the last of my existence if I could help it—and she had a survey of early American pop culture.
As I sat in class and half listened to the teacher drone on, doing problem after problem and explaining it all as he went, I thought about Jarrod. There was something broken about him in the same way that there was something broken about me—we shared that much in common. No normal human wanted to murder another like we did, and yet he hadn’t even flinched when I approached him with the possibility. The way Robyn talked about him suggested something else was happening in his life, and I guessed it had to do with his parents.