She shakes her head. “If you’re looking for evidence that he’s your killer, I don’t have it. I’d have said something if I did. What I was talking about was the kind of bullshit you saw with his lynch mob. He’s a loudmouth and a bully, and he gets others riled up, but if he’d actually pulled Brady from his cell, he wouldn’t have known what to do with him. He’d have just hoped someone else took over. He’s a talker, not a doer.”
“You might want to tell Mindy that.”
Jen’s voice drops, uncharacteristically subdued. “Yeah, that was … Fuck him. Just fuck him. No one deserves that crap, but Mindy especially. She’s a helluva lot nicer about turning assholes down than I am. She’s polite but firm, and she doesn’t take any bullshit. What Roy did … I’d go see Mindy, but Isabel’s hovering, and you know how well I get along with that bitch.”
I give Jen a look.
She rolls her eyes. “Oh, come on. To Isabel, ‘bitch’ is a compliment. But back to Mindy. What Roy did was fucking bullshit, and if you don’t kick him out, then put him in a locked room with me and Mindy, and we’ll settle this. But…”
She lowers her voice again. “It could have been worse. I hate saying that, because God knows, every woman has heard that crap. He grabbed your ass? Be thankful that’s all he did. I don’t mean it like that. I mean that what I saw was typical Roy. Well, it’s what I’d expect from Roy if he snorted coke and lost his damn mind. He hurt her, and he humiliated her, and there’s no denying that, but…”
“It was intended as a show of force and public humiliation. The act of a bully coward who wouldn’t actually carry out his threats.”
“Exactly.”
We climb to Roy’s apartment. I tell Dalton that I’ve got this—I’m almost done, and Jen can take notes. He heads to the clinic to wait for Roy to wake.
As I look around the apartment, Jen says, “The stuff I was going to tell you is just more of that. Bullying. But it ties into what I wanted to speak to you about specifically. You can’t leave Roy in the clinic with Kenny.”
I stop looking through a drawer and glance over at her.
“It’s not fair to Kenny,” she says.
“Having Roy in the clinic will be a problem for Kenny?”
She plunks onto the bed. I wave for her to stand and retreat to the doorway. She grumbles but does it. Then she says, “You can’t leave them together overnight. You know how I mentioned Roy’s a bully? Kenny is his favorite chew toy.”
“Kenny?”
“I know, right? It’s like kicking a kitten.”
I’m crouched, looking under the bed, and I twist toward her. “True. However, there is one person who never fails to snipe at Kenny, snark at him, insult him…”
“It’s not the same.”
“Not the same when you do it?”
She waves that off. “Kenny gives as good as he gets with me. It’s sibling sniping. And, for the record, that’s exactly what it is like with me and Kenny—not romantic bickering.” She shivers. “He isn’t my type, and I’m not his, thank God. I might needle him, but Roy stabs him in the back, every chance he gets. He hates Kenny because everyone else likes Kenny. That’s the kind of person Roy is. Kenny’s head of the militia—which Roy wasn’t allowed to join. Kenny turns down freebies from Isabel’s girls, when Roy can’t even pay for it. You like Kenny. Eric and Will like him. Isabel does. Even Mathias tolerates him. All the cool kids like Kenny, and none of them like Roy.”
“He’s jealous.”
“Green-eyed with it. I can guarantee you that when Roy looks at Kenny, he doesn’t see the town carpenter who can bench-press d
ouble his weight. He sees the kid Kenny was—the nerd who grew up to be a high school math teacher. With Kenny, Roy smells a bully’s victim, and he treats him like shit. I don’t want him sleeping next to Kenny, who can’t get out of bed to defend himself. Even if Roy wouldn’t do anything, it’s the threat that counts. Kenny doesn’t deserve that.”
This certainly isn’t what I expected. While Jen may say her needling Kenny isn’t serious, I’m not sure he—or anyone else—would feel the same way. She’s the last person I’d expect to champion a victim over a bully.
A few months ago Mathias said that a lifetime of bullying had turned Jen into one. His theory is that she’d been the victim of it herself as a child. I suspect Kenny has, too. The difference is in how it affected them. Kenny is the bullied kid who never stops hoping it’ll just all go away. The boy who grows into a man who still wants to “hang with the cool kids” but has learned the difference between the assholes in the smoking pit and the leaders of the student council.
Kenny came to Rockton determined to reinvent himself, and there’s something sad in the fact that he thought he had to—that maybe he believed everyone in his life who blamed him for the bullying. Whatever his motivation, though, he has worked his ass off for the town and become a valued and, yes, popular member of it.
Jen, on the other hand, is the bullied kid who says “fuck you” to the world. She fortifies her wall and defends herself and always hits first—with or without provocation—because that’s her way of protecting herself. It doesn’t make it right, and I don’t care how much I might sympathize with the girl she’d been, I won’t put up with her bullshit, because deep inside, there’s a girl who is a bully, who enjoys seeing me flinch at a well-aimed barb.
Hearing Jen defend Kenny does surprise me, and as I search Roy’s bedroom, I also search my brain for Jen’s ulterior motive. I find none, and as I finish, I say, “You’re right,” and she seems to visibly relax.
“Don’t tell Kenny I mentioned it either,” she says. Her face hardens into a look I know well. “If you do, I’ll deny it. I’ll tell him you’re full of shit.”
“Yes, please threaten me, Jen, because that’s the only way I listen to you.”