AS HIS LIPS MADE CONTACT, not enough to even squish mine yet, there was a noise outside. A car was pulling into the driveway. Then headlights came through the windows, temporarily blinding me.
I lunged my whole body away from Mark, getting my face the hell away from his.
He was too concerned with the car to notice my rejection. He looked to the front door, then back to me. “Shit, not again. You have to get out of here.”
“What?” I said, not even sure of the question I was asking.
“I’m serious,” he said, pushing me toward the back door. “It’s Hunter. She’ll be pissed if she sees you here.”
“She should be,” I said, twisting away from where he was leading me. “You just tried to kiss me.”
“Virginia,” he grumbled. “Just go and we’ll talk about this later.”
“Are you kidding me? I’m not your mistress and I’m not going to sneak out and hide in the woods.”
“Is this your thing now? Sabotage? I didn’t kill Jenny, so now you’re going to ruin my relationship?” With that, he grabbed my arm, squeezing it and hurling me toward the back door. It sent a shock through my entire body. He had never touched me like that. I dug my heels into the ground, which only caused Mark to tighten his grip, laying the foundation for tiny fingerprint bruises. I didn’t know why I was fighting him so much. All I knew was that he wanted me to leave and I didn’t want him to get what he wanted.
If I went out that door, nothing would change. He would go right back to Hunter while making passes at me whenever the opportunity presented itself. It was time for it all to be over with.
My hands hit the glass. I could see the blue and red lights of the cop cars through the trees, scattered around JP’s driveway. Everything so close. Everything so confusing.
Mark pressed his body against mine to keep me pinned against the sliding door while he let go of my arm and reached for the handle. I could feel his stomach. I could feel his hips. I could feel what I didn’t want to think about.
I elbowed him in the chest and broke away. I ran back through the living room, around the leather couch, and toward the front door.
I stopped in my tracks as the door opened and I found myself face-to-face with Hunter.
She started to smile, a reaction to seeing me before processing the context. Then the smile was gone. “Virginia?”
I looked over at Mark to gauge his intentions. He slunk closer, not toward either one of us in particular, just getting into position for what was to come.
“What is she doing here?” Hunter asked him, not interested in talking to me directly.
She had been drinking. Not a ton, but enough for her eyes to be glazed over and her cheeks to redden as she processed what she was seeing.
Mark took a deep breath and slid his jaw back and forth. He was stalling.
“Mark!” she shouted, his silence driving her paranoia.
“Nothing’s going on,” he insisted.
“How stupid do you think I am?” she asked, barging into the house and throwing her keys down on the kitchen island.
I was happy to no longer be directly in between them and was content to just take in the show.
Hunter rested her palms on the island, leaning aggressively as if she were too weak to hold herself up. From behind, I watched her back rise and fall with each heavy breath.
“I don’t understand,” she muttered before pushing off the counter and spinning back to glare at Mark. “Explain it to me, please.”
“Calm down,” said Mark.
“I’m not going to fucking calm down,” Hunter yelled. “Why is Virginia in your house?” She turned to me before Mark could answer. “Virginia, why are you here?”
“She was just leaving,” Mark offered.
“Oh, I see.” Hunter nodded. “Then I guess everything is all right.” Her sarcasm was completely transparent, and I knew better than to react in any way. Apparently Mark did too because we both remained silent as Hunter walked around the kitchen island and opened the freezer.
Once her face was obstructed by the freezer door, Mark looked back at me again. Each time he looked to me for help, the sadder it got. Not sad like a lost puppy, sad like an absolutely pathetic excuse for a human.
I squinted with disgust, and he turned back in time for her to close the door and reveal the bottle of vodka she was reaching for. I would have killed for a shot or ten, but I wasn’t about to speak without invitation.
Mark was becoming increasingly fidgety. I gathered Hunter wasn’t prone to uncomfortable silences, and I could attest that it was, in fact, uncomfortable.
“I think you should go,” he said to me.
“Why?” Hunter interjected. “Don’t leave on my account. Do you two want to go upstairs and fuck or something? I could start dinner.” She poured the chilled vodka into a glass she probably should have rinsed out first. I could tell from the shadow there was a film covering the bottom. There was no way she could have missed it. She just didn’t care.
This was the Hunter I was always worried would show up. The one who had a deep, unwavering resentment toward me. The one who blamed me for any trouble she was having with Mark, and clearly there was trouble. The one who belonged drinking alone at the pub.
“There’s nothing going on,” Mark insisted. “I get it. It looks bad, but I promise it’s nothing.”
Hunter sacrificed the sip of vodka nearing her lips to hurl the cup across the room at him. He ducked at the last second, the glass barely missing his head and making contact with the sliding glass door instead, causing it to shatter.
Mark and I cowered at the piercing crash. It was loud, and I wondered if the cops had heard it and if they would even care if they did.
Once we regained our composure, I looked back at Hunter, who stood still, waiting for us to get over it.
“Jesus Christ, Hunter,” Mark yelled. “You’re going to pay for that.”
She glared at him—the irrelevance in that moment of who would pay for the broken door, his misguided concern almost unfathomable to her.
She finally let her eyes leave Mark and move to me. “Is he telling the truth? Is it nothing?”
Her gaze was intense, and it impeded my ability to reason. What did I want in that moment? What did I want to say? What did I want the outcome to be? It felt like that night outside the liquor store when I couldn’t find the words to speak to her.
“Well, your silence speaks volumes,” she scoffed.
“Virginia!” Mark yelled. “Tell her the truth.”
Of course, by “the truth,” he obviously meant not the truth. He wanted me to give some plausible explanation for being there. I’m not sure what that could even be. I was there because Jenny found out about us and was blackmailing him. Was that the truth he wanted me to share? Was I supposed to just leave out the hand-holding, the attempted kissing, the it’s not too late for us part?
I had done it again. I had betrayed Jenny. Like so many times before, it started in the guise of helping her and ended with me completely submersed in self-serving, destructive behavior with Mark.
“Hunter …” I swallowed hard and stepped closer to her, getting Mark out of my periphery. “Mark saw Jenny the night she was killed. I found out that she knew some things, and I came here to confront him. He admitted to seeing her, and I don’t know what it all means, but that’s why I’m here.”
“‘Don’t know what it all means’?” Mark shouted from behind me. “Don’t phrase it like that. Hunter, I had absolutely nothing to do with Jenny’s death. I swear to fucking God.”
Hunter shook her head. She was past ever believing another word out of his mouth, but she also seemed reluctant to listen to me. I wouldn’t listen to me either.