She was taken aback, and wiped at her eyes. “I’m in med school. Last year, then residency.”
He nodded again. “That’s good.”
That’s good? I just told you I killed your partner. Cuff me! Punch me! Curse my name! Kill me! “Good?”
“You made it out. I hope the money was worth it.”
“You’re not going to do anything about this?”
“You didn’t pull the trigger. And I reckon none of it was your idea? And it took a great amount of convincing to get you on board? And that you felt something strong for that boy. Maybe it was love, yeah?”
Erin was speechless.
“You a foster kid?”
“How did you know that?”
“Listen. Good people get themselves in bad situations. You wouldn’t have pulled that trigger in a million years. I bet my 401k on that.”
“That doesn’t matter.”
He smiled at her. “Don’t turn yourself in.”
“Why?” It came out angry.
“What would it accomplish?”
She shook her head in short jarring motions.
“You know what that guilt will do for you?” He didn’t let her answer. “Nothing. It doesn’t make you a better person, feeling guilty. You know what it’ll do for others? Nothing… But if only there was some marvelous act that could make a difference in someone’s life to make up for what happened. What could that be?” He shifted his focus onto the tombstone again, a glimpse of sorrow finally resonating on his face. “Yeah… That will work.”
“It’s not right.”
“Tracy wouldn’t want you in prison.”
Erin stared at the grass. Most of the snow was gone.
“I can’t tell you how to feel. I can’t even tell you I understand what you’re going through, because I don’t. So maybe you’re always gonna feel like this, but you can do something about that. Every time you feel shitty, go do something good. Or see a shrink, what do I know?”
Her tears were blinding her. There was no answer that was going to get rid of that awful feeling that had plagued her all of those years. There was no escaping it. It was inside her. She would have to live with it.
“My knee is locking up. It was good meeting you, Erin.”
“Jess,” she blurted out. “My name is Jessica.”
“I like Erin better.” He turned to leave, but she stopped him.
“What about him? He shouldn’t get away with it.”
He paused, agreeing with her. “It’s already happened. Leave it behind.”
Erin stared at him, begging for advice on a better solution.
“Sometimes there’s no right answer.” And with that, he left.
She turned her key, but the lock didn’t slide over; it was already open. She opened the door. Trevor was asleep on her couch. There were two coffees on the table next to the couch along with a grease-stained paper bag. She walked over and kissed him, then crawled on the inside. He woke up and dropped his hand on his forehead.
“Hey, where you been?”
“Just had to do something. You take care of your thing?”
“Yeah. It’s been handled.”
His body was like a furnace. She grabbed tight, snuggling up to absorb some of the heat. She tucked her cold feet on his bare legs and he twitched. “How are your feet that cold?” he complained.
“My real name is Jessica.” The words hung out there and he remained silent. Before answering he wrapped both arms around her.
“Tell me something about her.”
Chapter Thirty-two - Trevor
A series of lights flashed at random. His eyes were glued to his lids, refusing to open. The lights were getting brighter, harsh now. He tried to escape it, tried turning from it, but it was all around him.
Then darkness.
Nausea.
There was an odd pressure pinning him down.
His eyes opened. Trevor was lying in a pool of sweat and he had no idea where he was. He had no idea what century he was in, for that matter. He was going to be sick but didn’t have time to get anywhere, not that he knew where to go. He crawled out of bed and vomited on the floor. It was sour and tasted of champagne and bile. He rose to his feet and looked in the bed for Erin, but she was not there. Where the hell am I? He turned around, trying to gain his whereabouts, but it was too dark and he couldn’t find a light switch. To his right there was some light attempting to pour in from… outside? He walked toward it and there was a strange sparkle. It led him to a doorway, but there was no door, just an opening. It all started to feel familiar. He stepped through the opening and his bare feet gripped wood. He heard water. He was on a dock. The lamppost reflected off the water.
He was on the island.
Trevor glanced up at the small lamppost at the end of the dock, shedding some light on the beach, not far from where he had dug up bodies.
He had dreamed it. His father, Valencia, Erin… None of it had happened.
Trevor felt another surge and purged over the dock. Where was everyone else? If he hadn’t left the island, where were they?
To his left, still on the main beach, he could see a small fire, people around it.
The walk down the beach alone was frightening. It appeared his flu had never left. He reached the group of people. They were his people.
“Big sleep, man,” said Stefan.
“Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you.” Erin said.
“It’s okay.” He looked around at everyone. It all seemed inorganic. It was like they were wax figures, but they weren’t.
He glanced around the circle. Skye, Ashton, Stefan, Erin. They were all looking up at him with concern.
“Are you okay?” asked Erin.
“Just not feeling well again.”
Stefan was quick to reply. “Yeah, something’s honestly been going around. All the adrenalin probably didn’t help either. I wasn’t lying when I said I was sick the other day. I think it’ll just be a twenty-four-hour flu for you, cousin.”
It was all so messed up that a surprising smile graced his face unexpectedly.
“What’s so funny?” asked Skye.
“Nothing. Did everyone else sleep away the day?”
“Yup. There was no sun for any of us,” said Ashton. He took a pull from his beer.
They talked away the night. His stomach had begun to recuperate. Ashton and Skye had scurried off finally, back to their duplex, leaving just the three of them.
Trevor turned to Stefan. “So… How did you find out?”
He glanced at Erin, then back to him.
“Find out what?” asked Erin
Stefan paused. “I have the resources to acquire important information on almost anyone. Without the investigations, my business here doesn’t work.”
“How do you expect to market this place with a model like this? How are you going to be profitable?”
He smiled. “I won’t be. Tough when anonymity is required for the whole process. Future guests will be observed and hand-picked. I’ll minimize the losses. I have enough money making me more money. That’s not what this is about. I thought you would have understood that by now.”
“I do.”
“I understand though. It’s not easy to shake ways of thinking. I’m not saying this is the right way. It’s just my way.”
“What about the newspaper articles? His suicide?”
“All fake. Custom job, that is all.”
His mind was churning now, trying to recall everything that had happened. “Your leg, in that trap.”
“All an illusion.” He chuckled. “We have access to equipment that would give a magician wet dreams.”
“Right…” Trevor didn’t smile back.
He noticed that Erin had become quiet, looking bothered. She glanced up before he could ask her what she was thinking about. “You had no grudge against Trevor? Nothing happened between you two?” she asked.