Today's Promises (Promises #2)(45)

Beyond the nauseating hue, however, I remember all too well from the days when Allison would prance around in front of me wearing only this towel, or one like it. Once she called me in to the adjoined bathroom and asked me to hand her what could’ve been this exact one. She was standing in the shower buck-naked, propositioning me with her eyes.

Allison was always hitting on me when I lived here, but to no avail. I despised that skanky bitch from the start. I couldn’t even bring myself to hate-f*ck her. Though I sure am f*cking her now, and my actions are brimming with hate.

Yes, it’s pure hatred I feel as I pour Debbie Canfield’s blood all over the knife, the excess dripping to the towel beneath in big crimson globs. When I pick up the pink towel and start to wipe the excess blood from the knife—as I imagine Allison would’ve done with the real items, if they exist—I murmur, “I know you killed her, you bitch. This may not be real evidence, but it’s going to be just as good.”

With the deed completed, Jaynie and I head out to the new barn, the one we used to work in, to plant the knife and the towel.

The plan is to hide these two items in a hidey-hole I once dug in the ground. It’s the only spot in the barn where one of the concrete slabs covering the floor ever came loose, which was kind of odd in a new structure. No matter. I noticed it last year and utilized the space beneath the slab as a hiding spot for food.

Five minutes later, I’m lifting up one end of that loose cement slab.

A centipede takes off as I quietly say to Jaynie, “The hole I dug is still here.”

“It was always a good hiding spot,” she replies.

“It was.”

I carefully place the knife in a hole that’s about two feet deep.

I then toss in the bloodied towel and quickly replace the concrete slab.

Standing, I turn to Jaynie and say, “Let’s get the hell out of here.”





Jaynie



I have so many mixed feelings regarding what Flynn and I did in the barn at the Lowry house. Planting evidence would surely land us in jail, if we are ever caught.

Hopefully, though, our plan will go off without a hitch.

“When should we call Detective Silver?” I ask as soon as we return to Lawrence. “I’m just ready for this thing to end.”

We’re trudging up the stairs to our rented room, but the hour is late.

Flynn stops on the step above me. He turns to me in the darkness, his face cast in the long shadows of the stairwell. Even in the dark, it’s clear he’s also struggling with what we did.

Closing his eyes, he leans back against the wall in the narrow corridor. “I don’t know, Jaynie… Soon, I guess.”

He seems exhausted, though I suspect it’s the effect of the mental toll that comes from what we had to do to stay safe from Allison. I wish I could bear more of his burden. I hate that he wouldn’t allow me to be more directly involved with the planting of the knife and towel. Somehow, though, I have a feeling that by accompanying him every step of the way, even if I didn’t handle the evidence directly, I’d still go to prison.

I think Flynn’s coming to grips with that fact right now. And that’s another reason why he’s hurting.

I reach out and close my hand around his forearm. Well, I do this as best as I can. His arms are strong these days and corded with muscles.

“Hey,” I begin, squeezing in what I hope is a comforting way. “We did the right thing.”

Opening his eyes, he peers down at me. “Did we, though?”

“Yes, Flynn,” I say insistently. “You know it was the only thing we could do. We were backed into a corner.”

“Yes, we were.”

“So what’s really bothering you?”

He lets out a little snort, like a laugh, but not. “Maybe the prospect of watching you get carted off to prison has me a little down, yeah?”

I start caressing his arm. “Hey, come on. What’s done is done. Should we go back to Forsaken and dig up the knife? Do you want to go throw it away? If we do that, you know what happens next. Allison walks free.”

“No way is that happening,” he says, suddenly adamant and ferocious.

There’s my guy.

“Yes, exactly, Flynn.” I nod and nod. “That’s exactly why what happened had to happen. We did what we had to do.” I’m more fervent than ever as I add, “I believe in what we did. We had no other option. Nothing was ever uncovered in the excavation and the case is about to be closed, right?” He nods, and I finish with, “This is justice for Debbie, Flynn. And protection for me and you.”

Suddenly pulling me up to him, he holds on to me so tightly that I soon can no longer discern if it’s my heartbeat or his that pumping so strongly between us.

“Shh, shh, everything will be okay,” I murmur. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

Whether I’m uttering that statement for Flynn’s benefit, or for my own, I don’t know.

But just like our indistinguishable heartbeats, it doesn’t matter. What Flynn does for himself he also does for me. And what I do for me will always ultimately be for him.

We work this way, we live this way, we love this way—together, always, as one.





Flynn



Jaynie is still set on calling Detective Silver basically as soon as we step in our room. But I want to wait.