I’m not so selfish that I can’t wait a little longer. After that scene with Hillary at the theater she disappeared. Had the whole town out looking for her. Last I saw her she had ran to the bathroom at the movies. Her parents said she never came home after I picked her up. Of course, with my reputation that meant I must’ve killed her and buried her in a shallow grave.
Personally, I figured she was hiding out. Afraid of her daddy’s wrath for whatever reason. Everyone has secrets and now I know Hillary’s shame. When she was fifteen, she got pregnant. Went off to stay with an aunt to have an abortion. They told everyone she was gone to a church camp, volunteering as a youth leader. Not many people knew that about her including me until it came up during interrogation. I’ve cooperated with investigators every step of the way.
Her body was discovered last week. Someone had laid her out on the church steps naked with the word murderer carved into her forehead. The public doesn’t know that last bit.
There’s a serial killer in Hell targeting women.
I’m the lucky bastard to have had a relationship with both victims. So far, I’m the only thing they have in common. I haven’t ascertained if it’s a coincidence or on purpose. I gave a DNA sample and offered to take a polygraph against the club’s new lawyer’s wishes.
They executed a search warrant on the apartment I had shared with Freya though I moved out and into the Crow’s Nest. All they found was a little weed and some pills. Petty personal use shit. They didn’t find anything to link me or any of the brothers to either crime.
I know that they put an executive rush on the DNA testing, but the results haven’t come in yet. I never had sex with Hillary. I told them we had barely kissed. Girl was scared of her own shadow. Whoever murdered her and April fucked them both. April was a willing participant. Hillary was not and that guts me for her.
She was a sweet girl, and I’m kicking myself for being such a rotten bastard. Had I went ahead and driven her home she might still be alive.
Deep down, I know what happened to her isn’t on me, and yet I carry the weight of the pain she suffered on my shoulders. I can commiserate with Death in that respect. He carries his son’s tragic end on his as well.
I’ve been through that night at the movies in my head and with the detectives a million times trying to remember who I saw. If anyone was behaving oddly. I can’t come up with one description. One name. It's all a blur.
I came here after. Fucked around playing pool with Pickle. Crow turned over surveillance footage proving I arrived alone. Heard from our lawyer that they spotted Hillary walking out of the movies alone on the drug store camera feed across the street.
No one knows who she met up with. They are still waiting on her cell phone records and other shit.
I think her father finally believes it wasn’t me. Her mother told me I was welcome at the funeral as long as I kept to the back of the church. The service is tomorrow. I haven’t made a decision on whether or not I’ll attend. I want to pay my respects but don’t want to cause a scene. People around here love to have my name in their mouths.
I spy Cate exiting the kitchen. Freya follows after her and I push back my chair. There’s no way she’s leaving without having a conversation with me.
Looks like she’s got the same idea because she’s strutting toward me.
“Can I talk to you? In private.”
I see Death watching us and I shoot him a one finger salute.Asshole.
“Been staying in one of the cabins. We can go there.”
“You moved out of the apartment?”
“Was time. Crow and I took care of the lease so don’t worry about that shit. It won’t show up on your credit report or whatever. We paid the early termination fees.”
“I appreciate that.” She glances at my beer bottle. “Thought you weren’t supposed to drink.”
“Only took a few sips. I don’t know why but having the cold bottle in front of me is a form of therapy. Gives me comfort. Pathetic, huh?”
“Whatever gets you through. I’m really sorry to hear about Hillary.”
I shrug. “Is what it is.” I start walking and Freya follows me out.
I take her to my cabin. Was a rebuild and more modern than some of the others. The old one burnt down. Crazy fucking story. One of the brothers before my time murdered his wife there and burnt their cabin down. Burned himself alive. Couldn’t live with her. Couldn’t live without her.
A fucked-up part of me understands how a man could be driven to the brink of insanity by love.
Like Freya and me. I don’t want to be without her and yet I don’t know if there’s been too much damage between us to try again. I love her but at times I question if it will ever be enough.
“You live here?” Freya has this horrified expression on her face.
“What about it?”
“Nothing.” Guilt lurks behind her eyes.