CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

JENNY

IT WAS WHEN she stopped shivering that Jenny really began to worry. Her eyes were heavy, and her mind was slipping. She could barely feel her feet, and there had been no signs of Gil in what felt like at least a half hour. She emerged from her hiding spot, crawling out just enough to sit up and let her eyes adjust to the moon.

She rose to her feet and started walking. Her legs were slow to work again, but she fought through it. Where was JP? Why wasn’t he looking for her? She had just left him there. What if Gil went back for him? What if JP was dead and the whole time she was just hiding?

She could see the floodlight ahead, but there were no frantic footsteps, no screams, no one calling out her name, no hints of what was in store for her. With the rock wall in front of her, her nerves became overwhelming. Was it too late to run home and crawl into bed? She shook the thought away and stepped over the rocks in the same spot she had jumped over earlier.

The light engulfed her as she looked toward the house. The sliding glass door was closed. Someone had gone through the door after she and Gil ran through. Did this person go in, or did someone come out? Either option could be good or bad, a clue with no value.

Answers wouldn’t come from the door. They came when Gil leapt from the darkness and wrapped his arms around her from behind. He squeezed her tight, like she was his greatest carnival prize. The force took her breath away, and she coughed out the last bit of air.

He kissed her cheek close to her ear, then released her, daring her to run even though he was close enough to grab her before she could flinch.

“Jenny,” he said with a sigh. “This has turned into a mess.” He shook his head with what seemed like genuine regret. “Can we just start over? I’ll give you the money, don’t worry about that.”

“Where’s JP?”

“I don’t want to talk about him. This is about us,” he said.

“Did you kill him?”

He reached forward and grabbed both of her arms. “He was trying to kill me. Didn’t you see that? He’s crazy and violent. He could hurt you too if he hasn’t already.” He brushed the back of his hand against the cuts on her left cheek.

Jenny’s eyes began to well up. He had killed JP, and now he wanted to change the subject. Her lip quivered to complement the welling tears.

Gil leaned forward and kissed her on one cheek, then the other, as if his affection would help.

“Stop,” she whispered, but he didn’t listen.

He kissed her more, all over her face. Jenny stared at the ground, replaying every moment in her head, every move she made to get her here, alone with this monster and JP gone forever. “Stop,” she yelled, pushing Gil back a few steps.

His compassion disappeared, and his eyes narrowed to slivers. His slimy tongue poked out to run over his bottom lip; then he charged toward her.

Jenny hunched over, bracing for impact.

As the tip of his fingers reached her chest, he stopped on a dime. It was as if he’d hit an invisible wall protecting her.

Jenny looked down to see the bloody tip of the machete poking out from his stomach.

Gil’s eyes locked on hers, then rolled backward. The tip of the blade retreated, and she jumped back to avoid his body as it fell.

JP stood behind him, grasping the machete. Blood dripped to the ground. He stared down at his kill like a warrior. He didn’t run to hug Jenny; he didn’t even look at her. His chest rose and fell like a young boy changed forever.

“Help me get him to the hose,” he said, allowing no time to breathe or think. He moved behind Gil’s head and wrapped his arms under the dead man’s armpits.

Jenny grabbed his feet, afraid to argue.

They carried Gil across the yard. He wasn’t big, but he was dead and heavy. JP dropped the shoulders by the hose without warning, and the force ripped the feet from Jenny’s hands. JP jumped onto the deck and slipped through the sliding glass door, disappearing into the house and leaving Jenny alone with Gil again.

His eyes were open. A small amount of blood gathered at the corners of his mouth. He was dirty, scratched, bruised, and still. So very still.

JP burst back outside with the sheets from his bed rolled up in his arms and a gallon of bleach in his hand. He threw them onto one of the chairs and went for the hose. He still said nothing. He still didn’t look at her.

He cranked the hose on full power. Jenny scooted toward the house to avoid the chilly spray deflecting off the ground. JP took the hose to Gil’s body. The force caused Gil’s skin to ripple as he moved the stream back and forth, from head to toe.

“What are you doing?” asked Jenny.

“Getting rid of any evidence.”

She watched him spray Gil with water for a full two minutes before he was satisfied and turned off the hose. JP grabbed the sheets and spread them out on the ground.

“Help me put him on the blankets.”

She took her place at the feet again. She was scared and everything felt wrong, but she was glad that he was in control. All night she had been begging for someone to tell her what to do.

They placed the body in the center of the blankets. This time Jenny was aware of JP’s movements and released her hold in sync with his. JP left his eyes on the body while he pushed Jenny out of the way. He folded the bottom of the sheets over Gil’s calves, then moved to the side and tucked the edge completely over the body. He rolled the man up like a burrito until he ran out of blanket.

JP grabbed the bottle of bleach from the chair and tucked it in on top of Gil’s head. He gripped the edge of the blanket with both hands, twisting it and regripping to ensure he had it. Finally, he looked up at Jenny. “Get out of here,” he demanded.

“But—”

“Jenny, leave here right now. Don’t come back. You were never here, do you understand?” He took his eyes off her, end of discussion. He stepped backward, dragging the blanket and the body with him toward the driveway.

He was leaving her. She was alone.

Jenny slipped back into the house. She stood still for a moment in the gritty, disheveled living room. She found her boots and slipped her aching, mud-coated feet into them. Her last action in that house was to slide her trembling hand in between the couch cushions and retrieve the knife JP made her hide as a precaution. Gil was dead, yet she felt anything but safe. She put her head down, slipped out the front door, and took off for the only place she could think to go.