“Yes, you are. I see it in your eyes. You didn’t do that to Jenny. Diego is the only one at fault here.”
“He’s right.” I look up at Judge and find him only a few feet away, looking down at us. His face is pale and haggard. “That bastard did this, not you.”
I’m shocked at first, because I thought for sure he would blame me.
“But if it wasn’t for me, she would still be alive,” I whisper through a throat thick with emotion.
“Doesn’t matter. Don’t you dare take this on your shoulders.”
“You didn’t know who he was when you started seeing Diego,” JW says and I look at him. “You didn’t ask to be a witness to the murder of that woman. You don’t have that chip. And you certainly didn’t perpetrate Jenny’s murder. This. Is. Not. Your. Fault.” He enunciates the last few words slowly.
I don’t agree with either of them, but I nod anyway. I’ll always feel guilty for what happened to Jenny, no matter what anyone says, but it makes me feel marginally better that neither JW or Judge casts blame my way.
I tuck myself back against JW’s chest and let his steady heartbeat calm my raging one. If I knew JW would let me, I’d leave Malus tonight. The thought of someone else being hurt because of me has anxiety clawing its way into my lungs. So I don’t think about it. I don’t let it pull me under. I don’t think about how it would be safer for everyone if I just left. It’s pointless anyway, because I know JW wouldn’t let me leave. And a big part of me is glad.
Although I would sacrifice the happiness I know I could have living here if it meant no one else would come to harm, I don’t want to give up Malus or its people. But most importantly, I don’t want to give up JW.
JW
WE’RE ALL STANDING OUTSIDE. Eden is huddled against my side, my arm draped over her shoulder as she quietly cries against my chest. Judge is beside us with Trouble and Emo on his other side. We listen to Pastor Philips preach the graveside sermon, but I don’t think any of us really hear him.
It’s the typical funeral. A rainy day to match the dark, dismal, and somber mood everyone is in. We’re all huddled underneath black umbrellas with our black formal clothes. The women cry softly, while the men comfort them with a gentle embrace. There’s no coffin. Jenny wanted to be cremated. I remember her once saying the thought of her decaying body in the ground gave her the heebie jeebies. An open casket before her cremation was out of the question. The reason behind that still makes my blood boil. Jenny wasn’t simply murdered. She was fucking slaughtered and gutted like a pig.
What separates Diego from all the other sick psychos out there who like to mutilate their victims is the fact that Jenny was alive when he started cutting into her. I don’t know how Emo was able to come to that conclusion, but I don’t doubt his findings. He’s good at what he does. Another morbid fact about Jenny’s death and what she went through the thirty minutes Diego was with her, and it turns even my stomach, is that before he sliced her from pubic bone to sternum is, he shoved that knife inside her privates. The blade, not the handle. When Emo shared that tad bit of information, Judge went ballistic. I’ve never seen that crazed look in his eyes before. There was damn near nothing left in Emo’s living room that wasn’t broken. It took me, Emo, and Trouble to calm him down, and even then, Trouble ended up with a black eye and Emo with a split lip. The only consolation was knowing that Jenny probably passed out from the pain of being raped by a knife, and that she more than likely wasn’t conscious when he started slicing into her. I kept that bit from Eden, knowing she would only blame herself more if she knew the extent of Jenny’s experience.
Pastor Philips finishes the sermon and after a few moments, the cemetery caretaker is lowering the small black box that contains Jenny’s ashes into the ground. Judge kept a small urn with some of her ashes for himself. This brings on another round of silent sobs. The women behind us, Judge’s other women, all huddled together and cry for the friend they lost.
After the cremation box is in the ground, people start to disperse, most leaving sedately in their cars and some sticking around to talk.
Mae walks over and pulls Judge’s stiff body down for a motherly hug. “I’m so sorry, sweetie.” He gives her a clipped nod and kisses her cheek. She turns to Eden, giving her a hug too. “How are you holding up?” Mae wasn’t given all the details of Jenny’s death, we decided to keep the more gruesome parts to ourselves, but she knows Eden was the one who found her.
Eden’s eyes are sad as she flicks them to the hole in the ground.
“I’m okay.”
She’s not okay. She couldn’t be further from okay. Using the tissue in her hand, she wipes under her red and swollen eyes. It’s a good thing she’s not wearing makeup because she’d look like a raccoon by now with all the crying she’s done.
Mae’s eyes are dull when she nods. “Everyone is gathering at The Hill. Will you two be there?”
Eden looks at me for an answer, but I stay quiet and leave the decision up to her.
“Yeah, we’ll be there.”
“Alright, honey. I’ll see you there then.”
She speaks with Emo and Trouble for a moment before turning to Jamie, Gillian, and Layla. Mae’s never been a fan of Judge’s choice in having multiple mistresses, but she’s always been fo
nd of the women.
“You want to go home and change before we go to The Hill?” I ask, because no matter how much you huddle under an umbrella in the rain, you always end up soaked.
Relief flashes across her face, mixing with the look that says she could use a nap, or ten.
“Yes, please. I think my toes have started a mud wrestling match in my shoes.”
I grab her hand and pull her behind me. It’s probably rude to just leave without saying goodbye, but I want to go before anyone stops us. Besides, we’ll see everyone at The Hill later. I want to get Eden out of her damp clothes and into something warm. The temperature isn’t too bad, but it’ll be dropping once the sun starts going down.
We’re both quiet during the short drive to my house. I hold her hand in my lap and her fingers clutch mine tightly, like she’s scared to let go, or I’ll let go. There’s no chance of that. Maybe not ever.