Ossining, NY
Present Day
Red’s asleep by the time I get back to the room, which I would have expected considering it’s almost one in the morning. I spent most of the day at Millie’s cleaning up, after I rolled her into an old carpet I found downstairs. My original plan was to just do what I did to Jake—cut her into as many pieces as I could, then weight a duffle bag and toss her into an open body of water.
But because I don’t want to field any more questions of suspected infidelity, I left her in the trunk of the car and just came back. I have a day or two before she starts to fucking smell, so I’ll be sure to get rid of her before then—somehow.
The difference between Millie and Jake is that I lit his shit up like the fourth of July and took off. As a kid, I was always interested in how things worked, so it was easy enough to make it look like an electrical malfunction was responsible for the blaze.
That’s the difference, however; the problem is that my hands haven’t stopped shaking. I think I’m more amped up about what I did to her because she’s had it coming for fucking years, and I can only hope to God that it hurt her as much as her words had always hurt Red.
I would have done the same thing to Jake, had Red not beat me to it, I think as I pull my shirt off and toss it into the bathroom. I walk over to the bed she’s lying in, and lean down to kiss the top of her head. She’s in my bed tonight, and I’m hoping that means she wants me in it too, but I’ll know for sure when I wake up in the morning.
With a sigh, I walk over to my bag and open it up, grab a pair of boxers, and head to the bathroom. I don’t plan on taking a shower, because I don’t want to wake her up, but I’ll wash up as quietly as I can before I get into bed with her.
I shake my head as I close the door and hit the light switch. I look into the mirror, staring into my tired eyes, and wonder how this all went to shit so quickly.
Had I never gone to see Hoyt—had I never found that fucking birth certificate, none of this would have mattered. I doubt anyone would be dead, and we’d be peaceful and happy back in West Virginia, without Red having to question being with me now.
Does it make a difference knowing? Not to me, but to her I think it does. As I turn the knobs so a small stream of water pours out, I think about how desperately my heart beats for Red. I think about how not too long ago, her heart did the same for me. She tells me she wants to be with me, though I don’t feel like she does—not anymore—and it should be okay, but it’s not.
I hold the hand towel under the water before I begin to rub it over my arms. There’s a tattoo I have near my elbow that made her blush the day I showed it to her. It seemed so simple at the time; nothing more than a simple outline of an animal in red ink, her favorite animal, and the word RED tattooed underneath it. She thought it was the greatest goddamn thing anyone had ever done for her, and now I’m left wondering if it holds any meaning. Does she even remember it’s there?
Does it fucking matter? I wonder glumly as I move to my other arm and clean up some more. Once I’m satisfied I don’t smell like cigarettes and sweat anymore, I pull my underwear off and begin to scrub my legs before I wet the towel again and clean up my dick, then put on the clean boxers. I toss the hand towel on top of my sweaty underwear and kick them under the sink. I’ll worry about that shit tomorrow; for now, I just want to hold her while I can, because something tells me when everything has a chance to settle in, it’ll be the last time in a long time that she’ll even be able to look at me.
* * *
Jori puts his arm around me and lets out a tired breath. The warmth of him against me is a comfort in a way and damaging in another, but I don’t have it in my heart to turn him away. As his chest begins to steadily move up and down, and a small snore escapes him, I push my body back against his, molding myself into the safe place I’ve come to love being in for so many years.
I told him we’d be together and I meant it, but I don’t know how much longer I can go on with this charade. It’s not what he told me that’s bothering me; rather, what he thinks he’s hiding from me.
Where was he all day? Did he think of me, more than just the phone call? Is this something worth fighting for? When did everything go so fucking wrong?
I have more questions than answers right now, and it’s fucking with me more than when I didn’t know things were the way they are.
With as confused as I am about everything right now, I’ve also come to learn that I don’t have any more tears for this situation. I’m saving those for Hoyt’s last breath, if that day ever comes, but with Jori, I have none left.
I’m confusing him as much as I am myself, and I know it, but it’s taking me more time to process things than I thought it would. I know that in the long run, I won’t care, and I hope Jori knows that too.
Tomorrow, when we both wake up, I’ll ask him where he was today. I’ll ask him what he did and who he was with, and I’ll sound like the jealous girlfriend I’ve committed myself to being.
And who knows?
Maybe, in the end, everything will be okay.
I reach underneath his arm and pull it closer as I close my eyes again. It took years for us to get to this point, and I’m not entirely sure if I’m ready to let it go just yet.
I’m hoping Hoyt can help me decide what the right thing to do is. I’m giving him another chance to be the father I can’t really remember, and I know he won’t let me down.