Forever, if I had my way.
I broke off the kiss and slowly stood up. She gazed up at me and it took all my strength to step away.
“Keep your phone on you. I’ll call soon.”
“I’m waiting.”
I turned and left her there.
I wanted to linger for the rest of the day luxuriating in her, but I had work to do.
I went to class. I paid attention (for once). I worked hard at practice. And when I got back home, I knocked on Robyn’s bedroom door, then stepped inside and shut it behind me.
She leaned back in her desk chair and spun a pen around her thumb.
“You know, I’ve heard some pretty insane rumors about you lately. Are you selling drugs?”
“Meth. Some crack.”
“Nice. You’ve been holding out on me. You know I love meth.”
I smiled and sat on her bed. “We need to talk.”
“Is this about Cora?”
“Actually, it’s not. It’s about your dad.”
She went still. The pen clattered to the floor. Silence descended and I held her gaze.
My poor cousin. She never deserved any of this.
“What about him?”
“If I could make him disappear, would you want that?” I said the words carefully, not sure how she’d take them, but I didn’t have time to mess around and feel her out.
Her face turned pale.
“You did it, didn’t you? You killed Dr. Silver.”
“I’m talking about your dad now. Would you be upset if he went away?”
“I don’t want you to kill him, if that’s what you’re asking.”
I shook my head slowly. “That’s not what I mean. Would you be angry if he went to jail for what he’s put you through? For the years of abuse? All the scars you have on your back?”
She grimaced and looked away. She thought I didn’t know about the scars—but I noticed them early on.
Before I came around, her father was much worse. When we were children, he had a thing for belts.
“I’m not talking to the police.”
“You don’t have to. Would you be upset if he paid for what he did?”
Her face twisted. “Why the hell are you doing this?” Tears sprang into her eyes. “Isn’t hurting me enough?”
I didn’t reach out to comfort her. Robyn seemed weak to everyone else, but I knew my cousin was made of iron. She had to be if she wanted to survive her father.
“You haven’t answered yet.”
“I’m sick of this shit.” She stood, shoving the chair back, and paced across the room. “You can’t just make the past go away, Jarrod. You can’t change it.”
“No, I can’t, but I can get justice.”
“Justice.” She laughed sharply. “Justice doesn’t give me a childhood. It doesn’t fix my disgusting back.”
“But it punishes the people that did those things to you.” I held her gaze, unwilling to back down. “Do you want him to hurt for what he did?”
She glared back at me, breathing through her nose like a frightened horse, before turning her back. She took a few moments to calm down, then drifted back to her chair and slumped down.
“I don’t know what you’re planning, but I won’t stop you.”
“Come on, Robyn. Have a spine for once.”
She looked up at the ceiling then squeezed her eyes shut. “I won’t stop you. And I won’t tell anyone. Isn’t that enough?”
I watched her carefully. Poor, abused, broken Robyn. She was so, so good at putting on a happy face in public. Bubbly, joyous, cute Robyn. Nobody understood the hell she’d been through and just how deeply and irrevocably broken she was.
Even still, after all that, she couldn’t bring herself to condemn the man that ruined her life, all because he was her father.
“All right then,” I said gently and stood. “I hope you know that I hate myself for treating you like shit in public. I never should’ve done it. You didn’t deserve my anger.”
“No, I didn’t, but we both know why you did it.”
I smiled and turned away. Yeah, we both knew, and that bastard would pay.
I left my cousin. Calvin would have her soon—whatever that meant. I wasn’t a good person, but at least I cared about making the worst of the worst suffer for their crimes.
28
Cora
The call came a week after we had that conversation on the bench.
It was a week of hell. Whispering, accusations, some minor bullying. Robyn stuck with me through it all, though Jarrod remained elusive. I began to wonder if it was all bullshit, if he didn’t actually have a plan—and never did.
Until that Sunday, the day after the football team won their last game of the season, I got a text.
Jarrod: I’m coming to get you. It’s happening.
I didn’t know what he meant, but I felt a sudden surge of adrenaline. Whatever he’d planned—this was the moment.
I quickly changed and met him out front. My parents didn’t say anything. Ever since the detective stopped by and confirmed all their worst fears, they stopped treating me like an unreliable child.