Killing Season: A Thriller

“Not a chance!”

“Please, Dorothy.” His voice went soft. “C’mon. I love you. What kind of a guy would I be if I didn’t come in with you?” He touched her face, wiped away the tears on her cheek. “I’m not about to let you walk in pitch-dark in freezing weather.”

“We’re two houses away. I need to think.”

“I’m going to pull up in front of your house. He’s gonna know, so there’s no sense in the charade, okay.”

“Don’t come in with me.” As soon as he hit the driveway, she got out of the car. She poked her head back inside. “Go away. I’ll see you in school tomorrow.”

“You’re not acting smart.”

“That seems to be my theme song tonight.” She slammed the door, dried her face, took a deep breath, and went inside her house. Ben was sitting on the sofa, dressed in a suit and tie, looking more gorgeous than she had ever seen him. She had this overwhelming desire to make love to him, to undo what had been done. But one look at his face and she knew that wasn’t going to happen. He had been talking to Griff, but when she came in, Griff got up and walked off to his room and closed the door.

Like they say, the best defense is a good offense. Ro wanted the right tone of coolness and indignation. “Nice of you to call.”

He said, “I called around a hundred times. Check your phone.”

“I lost my phone.”

“Check your purse.”

“I lost my phone, Ben.”

“Check your purse.” His voice was quietly insistent.

And there was her cell. She stared at it like it was an alien object. “How did . . .”

“Did you happen to complain to JD that I wasn’t calling you?” When Ro was silent, Ben said, “Thought so. He took it out when you weren’t looking.”

She scrolled down. There were around twenty missed calls, starting around three in the afternoon.

Ben’s contempt made her wither. “You know you can check your messages even if you don’t have your phone.” When she didn’t answer, he said, “You thought I forgot.”

She couldn’t talk. Tears started pouring out of her eyes. Not that he’d notice. He wasn’t looking at her.

“I wanted to surprise you,” he said. “Once in a while I’d like to do something that wasn’t choreographed by you.” He rubbed his eyes. “Well, that certainly backfired.” He stood up. “I’m going now.”

“No, don’t.” She was pleading. “Please stay.”

“You’re kidding me, right?” He waited. “No, Dorothy, I’m not staying. I am definitely not staying! And you know you reek of booze, right?”

She was light-headed, but this time it wasn’t from champagne. “Nothing happened.”

“Don’t tell me that,” Ben whispered. “You may not have had sex with him . . . but something definitely happened.” He reached in his pocket, pulled out a small, wrapped package, and threw it on the couch. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

She heard his car start and then the sound faded into nothingness. She sat down, breathing hard and shaking from the cold and guilt. She made a stab at wiping her tears away, but all that did was smear her makeup.

Her brain whirled with rationalizations. It was as much his fault as it was hers. They were both probably better off. What did it matter anyway? He was never around. He agreed to the stupid arrangement with JD. It was just high school. Who cared anyway?

His gift, lying on the couch, was wrapped in silver foil with a red bow. She picked it up and pulled the card out of the envelope. It had a smiling heart on the front. Her eyes were blurry from crying and fatigue, but not blurry enough because she could make out Ben’s handwriting.

My gorgeous Dorothy,

I had given up on everything. You brought me back to life.

I love you now and will love you forever and always.

Ben



Dry-eyed, she slipped the card back in the envelope and opened the gift. It was a white-gold bracelet chain studded with small diamonds. Her hands were shaking too hard to open the clasp, so she forced her fingers through the opening and managed to get it onto her wrist without breaking it. It was beautiful. Left to his own devices, the boy had great taste.

She took off JD’s earrings and stared at them. She had wanted bling; she got her bling.

She took the wrapping, the box, and the card and locked herself in her bedroom. There she lay on her bed without bothering to get undressed.

Too numb to cry.

She always knew she was shallow. But until today, she didn’t know that she was also terrible.

Clearly the wrong sister had died.





Chapter 9




“Hey, beautiful.” JD’s eyes were twinkling. “How’s the hottest girl on the planet?”

Ro blinked several times, trying to contain her anger. She had gotten no sleep last night and predictably, she was in a horrible mood. “Did you take my phone out of my purse and then put it back at the end of the evening?” When he was quiet, she whispered, “Don’t ever talk to me again.”

“Hey!” He grabbed her arm as she walked away. “I’m talking to you.”

“Let go of me!”

He dropped her arm. “You can be pissed all you want—”

“I wasn’t asking for permission.” Again, she started to walk away.

“Don’t lay this all on me, Ro,” he shouted to her back. “There were two people there.”

When she looked over her shoulder, he was in front of his locker. Missing the combination on the first try, he banged the door so hard he dented it. Everyone turned around. He banged it again and again. At that point, Ro had a choice. She could walk on, nursing her victimhood, or she could admit the truth, which she didn’t do too often. That it was her own bad behavior that had led to this debacle.

Sighing, she did an about-face. JD was breathing hard as he slammed the door a final time. It was totally warped.

“You’re going to have to pay for that.” He didn’t say anything, just continued to snort. She whispered, “JD, you got me drunk.”

“You weren’t drunk. You were tipsy and so was I.” He turned to face her. “The only difference is I meant everything I said last night.” He lowered his voice. “You know why those crappy teenage Hollywood movies always end with the good-looking jock getting fucked in the ass? Because in real life, the Tom Bradys get the Gisele Bündchens. They’re all jealous! Everyone just loves it when I fuck up.”

He looked straight into her eyes.

“You dumped me and you did it in front of my friends. It was a little embarrassing.”

“I asked if we could talk privately. You told me to talk in front of your friends.”

“Because you came with him and everyone knew what was gonna happen. I figured if I took it in public, it would be better.” A pause. “Why’d you bring Vicks with you? Why didn’t you just call me up or something? It wasn’t any of his business.”

“He insisted on coming. He said you had a temper.”

“Like he could protect you if I unloaded?”

“He could shield me so I could run.” Her attempt at humor fell flat. “I’m sorry if it embarrassed you.”

“He wanted to see me suffer.”

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