Black Promises (Blackwoods College)

But clearly something happened, and now my timeline was all messed up.

“Someone killed him,” Sam said quietly.

“You don’t know that.” I stared at the TV, brain buzzing with an incredible screech as a thousand thoughts screamed past. What if they catch me? What’s going to happen to that dog? Will Jarrod be angry? And so on and so on, spiraling into a pit of uncertainty.

“The police are investigating foul play.” Sam let out a shocked, angry laugh. It was sharp, harder than I was used to from him. Even in his depressions, Sam was a gentle guy. “Someone finally murdered the bastard.”

I looked up at my brother and I had the sudden, vile urge to tell him the truth.

He’d understand. Dr. Silver hurt him as much as he’d hurt me. Sam would be happy I was the one that made it happen.

But Jarrod would never allow it, and he’d be right.

As much as I loved Sam, my brother was too soft to carry this truth.

I didn’t know if I was much better, but I had no choice. It happened, and I couldn’t turn back.

“Do you still think about it?” The question came out soft and strangled.

He grimaced and looked down at the floor. “Yeah, I do sometimes. Mostly I think about the way Mom and Dad reacted after you told them.”

I closed my eyes. I could still see the look of disgust and surprise on my dad’s face. I could still hear my mom gently explain that sometimes doctors touched their patients in confusing ways, but that he was a medical professional, and it was okay.

But it wasn’t okay. I insisted, told them he’d put his fingers inside of me, which was supposed to be wrong, but they told me I must be mistaken.

The doctor would never do that.

I looked up at Sam. “I think about it all the time, too.”

“He’s gone now.” Sam laughed again. Still bitter and dark. I hated Dr. Silver all over again for making my sweet brother like this. “And honestly? I’m really fucking happy.”

I laughed too. I couldn’t help myself. In some ways, I needed to hear him say that, even if he didn’t know that I was the one who went through with it, or at least was deeply involved.

“Got what was coming to him.”

Sam grinned at me and laughed harder. I laughed with him until we were both cracking up, rolling around on the couch, tears in our eyes. I grabbed at my guts, barely able to hold myself together, and it felt good, so damn good to laugh and laugh and laugh, hysterical and wild, a bone-deep release.

“What’s so funny?” Dad stood in the kitchen, frowning at us.

I looked over the back of the couch. “Dr. Silver was murdered.”

Sam howled with laughter.

Dad blinked and his jaw worked. “Are you joking? I can’t tell.”

“Dead serious.” I grinned at Sam. “Get it? Dead serious?”

“Oh my god, stop,” he said, rolling on the floor. “I’m gonna bust a gut. Holy shit.”

“He’s dead as hell. Someone murdered the molesting fuck.” I grinned wildly at Dad. “Got what he deserved.”

Dad stood there, looking at me like I was an entirely different person, before his hands clenched into fists.

“You shouldn’t talk about the dead like that.”

“Why not?” I asked. “After what he did to me—”

“You were eight years old,” he exploded, throwing up his hands. “I thought we were done with this. You didn’t understand what was happening to you.”

Sam’s laughter died down. He wiped the tears from his face and sat there looking at me, caught between smiling and a deep sorrow.

I only shook my head. “No, Dad. You decided I didn’t understand, but I’m not wrong.”

His face turned red then purple. He wanted to scream, but he was too uptight and controlled to do that.

The back door opened. My mom came inside, whistling to herself. She wore her white and pink tennis clothes and had a sweatband around her forehead. She dropped her bag on the floor near the table then looked at my dad and looked at me.

“What’s going on?” Mom asked. She brushed her light brown hair back and tucked the shoulder-length strands behind her ears.

“Dannis Silver got murdered,” Sam said, snickering again.

Mom’s mouth fell open. “What happened?”

“We don’t know,” I said, barely controlling my fury. “But Sam and I were celebrating.”

Mom looked confused. “Why would you celebrate?”

Dad glared at her. “Cora brought up that conversation we had with her. Do you remember the one? When she was younger and confused.”

Mom’s confusion worsened before her hands flew to her mouth. She looked at me, surprised. “You remember that?”

“Of course I remember,” I said, staring at her like she was crazy. “I was eight, not an idiot.”

“But we talked about it. We explained—”

I cut her off with venom on my tongue. “You explained. You were wrong.”