Campus was awash in rumors and misinformation, but at least I had Jarrod and winter break to get me through it. Football season came to a close and he had a lot more time on his hands, which meant he devoted all of his attention to me and his friends—though mostly me. After about a week of seeing each other, we decided to move into the trailer together, and each day was a heady rush of self-discovery and very, very incredible sex.
There was a knock at the door then Robyn came into the room. “Hey, girl,” she said, putting on her best smile, but I could see right through it.
She was suffering.
“Hey, yourself.” I held up the bowl. “Popcorn.”
“Perfect.” She collapsed next to me and snuggled close. “Mom’s watching Lifetime and crying again. I can’t stand that house anymore.”
“I’d offer you the spare room, but—”
“But I don’t really want to live with you and Jarrod, no offense.” She grinned and leaned her head on my shoulder. “How is shacking up with my cousin in sin, by the way?”
“Sin’s a good way of putting it.”
“Gross. I don’t want details.”
“Just saying. It’s been good though. This place is small, but it works for us. It’s nice to have a little freedom.”
“Your parents weren’t happy though.”
“Dad was pissed. Mom was sympathetic. Sam was happy for me. I guess it worked out.”
She got all quiet. She did that a lot lately. Losing her dad to prison was good and bad, and she struggled with that split every day. I could tell she wanted her father to be punished for putting her through hell—Jarrod told me some of it and Robyn filled me in on the rest—but she felt bad that he was being put away for something he didn’t do.
And at the end of the day, the man was still her dad.
I could relate. I loved my parents still, even if I also hated them.
Jarrod banged around in the shower then got dressed before coming out. He sat on the chair and stretched his legs out with a sigh. Robyn gave him a nod and he nodded back, and we fell into a comfortable silence as Anchorman played on TV.
This was not the direction I pictured for my life.
When I imagined a life post-murder, there was only a blank, gray expanse. Right after the killing, I struggled to find meaning, and drifted along with whatever, mostly because I didn’t know what I wanted. But slowly, Jarrod brought me out of my shell and made me see that life was worth living, even if I had trauma in my past, if bad things happened to me, I couldn’t let those things destroy me.
I could accept it and grow. What Dr. Silver did to me would never disappear. What he did to Sam and all the other victims was etched in time, immutable and unchanging. Each was its own moment, a new branching path.
I wouldn’t remain stuck there.
Jarrod grinned at me midway through the movie and I smiled back. I knew what he was thinking—he couldn’t wait for Robyn to leave so he could strip me naked and do all the filthy things I loved.
And I adored it. Although we’d only been living together for a little while, just a few short weeks, his flame hadn’t dimmed one bit. It was like every day was new, and we went on little adventures together—or sometimes found adventures at home in our bed.
He was mine and I was his.
It was that simple. Our life together was founded on blood and horror, but we forged something better from that together. If I had taken Dr. Silver’s life on my own, I never would’ve survived what came after.
But with Jarrod, I could grow.
I could be a better person. And hopefully help him to become a better man.
After the movie, Robyn said goodnight. I hugged her outside. “Are you sure you want to leave?”
“You two need privacy. I caught the look he was giving you.”
I blushed, extremely embarrassed. “I’m sorry. I’ll talk to him about that.”
“No, it’s okay. You two are really in love, aren’t you?”
I nodded slowly. “What we did brought us together.”
“I bet it did.” She took a deep breath of the frigid air then shoved her hands in her pocket. “Just be careful, okay?”
“I will be, I promise.”
We never exactly talked about Dr. Silver. She knew Jarrod and I killed him, but I’d never explicitly said so, and she never wanted me to. That worked enough—she had plausible deniability, and I could pretend like my best friend didn’t see me as a murderer.
I hugged her and she got into her car and left. I went back inside and crawled into Jarrod’s lap.
“How’s she doing?”
“Barely holding on.” I kissed his neck. “I’m worried about her.”
“I’m sorry. Can I do anything?”