“I could never figure out how I got into a class that was overfilled and not taking any new students.”
“You can thank me for that. I needed an excuse to get close to you and it presented itself on that first day of class.”
“I remember.”
“You were so …”
“Easy?” I supplied the word.
“More like willing. I confess, I was a little disappointed. I thought it would take more work to get you to go out with me.”
“You doubted yourself?”
“No,” he admitted. “But I did think I would have to work harder to land you.”
He sighed.
“I could tell from Julianna and what was the name of your other friend? Kayla?”
“Kaitlyn.”
“I could tell the three of you had been talking about me when I walked up. It gave me confidence in what I’d planned.”
“Which was?”
“To ask you out and have you go to lunch with me at my favorite restaurant. The one where we first ate lunch, got engaged and had our wedding reception. I planned it all out from the day I saw you at the end of that first semester.” He got up and started walking on the other side of the counter. “I made sure everything was smooth and perfect on my end. I did my research on you. I knew you were an only child, I knew where you were from and every single detail about you.”
“You stalked me.”
“That’s not very nice,” he said and stopped pacing. He stopped smiling too. “I like to think of it as research for a project. And that project was you. You should be flattered.”
“That’s all nice, but I want to know about Julianna. I want to know what you did to her.”
“I propositioned Julianna.”
“Propositioned?”
“After we started dating, I saw her at a bar one night. She was her usual vivacious self. She was dancing on the tabletops doing a mock striptease. She made me want her. Bad. I was hoping for a repeat of that first night I saw her with my friend.”
“I know my friend. I know she wouldn’t have gone with you.”
“You would be correct. She turned me down flat. Saying she wouldn’t do that to her friend. She also said she was going to tell you what I said.”
“She never told me you propositioned her,” I tell him.
“No. Because I told her if she uttered a word, I would tell you that she was the one who propositioned me.”
“So that’s why she was so sullen in the weeks leading up to the wedding? Because you propositioned her?”
“Not exactly.”
I looked at him, waiting for him to continue.
“She may have turned me down, but I wanted her. So, I made sure that happened.” He pauses. “No one was going to come between us, Sarah and no one tells me no.”
I cringed inwardly at his words as push the plate of food across the counter, hoping he would choke on the meat.
“I waited until she was finished at the library one night, then pretended to be drunk. I told her you’d broken up with me.”
He laughed.
“She was so stupid, she believed me and offered to help me get home, which was exactly what I was hoping she would do.”
“You took her home and then what happened?”
“I never took her home. I took her to Anderson’s duplex across the street from the library. He graciously allowed me to use his place that night.”
“Anderson knew what you were going to do?”
“He knew enough.”
“Did you rape her?” I asked.
“Rape is such an ugly word. Let’s just say I used some persuasive pills in her drink.”
“You roofied her,” I clarified.
“I offered her a drink and she took it. Before you think of defending your wild ex-friend, those drugs don’t make people do anything they don’t already want to do.”
“Is that what you tell yourself to make yourself feel better?”
The way he looked back at me made me wonder if I may have pushed him too far.
“She wanted me. All three of you wanted me,” he seethed.
“Go on,” I say. “You drugged her, then what happened?”
“I had a very wild night with her. Twice. Then, when I was satisfied and through with her, I let Anderson and his friends do with her what they wanted.”
I feel like throwing up.
“You gang-raped her.”
“Funny. That’s what she said when she realized what happened that night. Then I sent her the photos. With her reputation, there’s not a jury on earth that would convict any of us for what happened. It showed a very eager and very willing participant. At least when she was with me. She was passed out by the time Anderson and his friends got to her.”
“My Lord,” I gasp, realizing it was around that time when Julianna changed. She stopped drinking and going out. She just stayed at home and studied.
“There has to be more than the first rape. Julianna continued to go downhill from that point on. What else did you do to her?”
Daniel
I almost want to laugh at the stern look on Sarah’s face. As though she somehow has the upper hand and can demand answers from me. I’ll give her answers all right. I’ll give her every gruesome detail of her friend’s demise. Then she’ll know I mean business.
“She threatened to tell you what happened,” I say, gaging her response. “She was going to go to the police. That is, until I sent her the photos and made it clear what would happen to you if anyone found out about what really happened.”
I watch with satisfaction when Sarah wipes a stray tear from her face. Even now, after all these years, she still cares about that whore of a friend of hers.
“I told her how things were going to be,” I said.
“What does that mean?” she asks. “How things were going to be?”
“It means I told her she would be at my beck and call. It means that whenever I needed an itch scratched, she would be available to scratch it.”
“And if she refused?”
“Those photos would surface all over campus, and I would kill you and Kaitlyn.”
“You threatened to kill us, so you could continue to rape her?”
“I like to think of it as a mutually beneficial agreement.”
“How did it benefit her?”
“It kept you alive and believing she was a true and trusted friend. It kept the people at the university thinking she was just a normal party girl, instead of a freak who liked to screw several men at the same time.”
“And she went along with this?”
Now it’s time to lay on the guilt.
“I don’t think she cared so much about herself or her reputation,” I tell her. “It was you. She didn’t want anything to happen to you.”
Sarah stares at me for several seconds before she asks the question I know is coming.
“She didn’t come to our wedding. No one has seen her since the rehearsal dinner.”
It was a statement. She’s afraid to ask. It makes me smile.
“Ask,” I prompt her. “Ask me what happened to your friend.”
“I’ve already asked,” she whispers. “I know you killed her that night. I just want to know what you did to her.”
“Are you sure you want to know? Do you think it will help you to know how your friend died?”
Sarah just stares at me, waiting.
“After I left our rehearsal dinner, I could tell by her morose attitude that she was going to tell you, even if that meant losing your friendship. She was more afraid of you marrying me than she was in losing you and Kaitlyn as friends or any threat I’d made.”
I sit back and smile at the memory.
“I walked to the duplex and let myself in – thanks for that spare key by the way. It came in handy more times than you know. Once I was inside I sent her a text telling her I needed to talk to her. She didn’t respond. I walked upstairs and found her crying looking at her phone. She’d already written the text to send you, she was hesitating sending it.”