“You can buy more. These are nothing special.” Sparking a long match, Tanner pokes it through a hole in the incinerator to light it up.
I don’t know why, because I’m as independent a woman as they come, but the “you” part of what he said really bothers me.
“They kind of are.” I’m well aware that my reasoning is severely messed up. That reasoning being that a part of me wants to keep them as a memento, even if I can’t wear them again. I think I must be in shock but I feel calmer than I ever have before.
“Sweet Bee, if you’re going to mumble, you could at least do it with my cock in your mouth.” Without waiting to see if I’m following, he heads toward my car.
“Asshole.” I hide my grin and trail after him. What even is my life right now?
We spent I don’t know how long having the best sex of my entire life, then proceeded to carve up Taylor’s dead body, bagged it up, removed all the plastic film that had covered the basement, all while butt ass naked. It was difficult to not jump Tanner every time he looked at me with that smirk planted firmly on his face…as firm as his tight ass cheeks…
The whole time, I have been detached from the situation, viewing it almost as if through somebody else’s eyes. We showered together, put on some new clothes that just so happened to be waiting for us, and the burning of our bloody clothes and the pieces of Taylor’s body was the last step.
It all feels like some fucked up dream, because the number of times I have wished bad things would happen to Taylor is plentiful. A part of me understands that what I did was wrong on all the levels, so, so wrong, but a whole other part of me has been vindicated. Instead of being weighed down by the guilt I should feel, I’m lighter…I’m Karma, and there’s something pretty spectacular about that.
Not spectacular enough to start advising my clients to take the same actions, but enough for my own peace.
I know if I dwell on my actions for long enough I’ll probably crawl into a ball and rock for a few hours before trying to turn myself in to the cops. The whole thing is fucked in every way possible, but I feel more alive than I ever have.
I stop and frown, watching Tanner open the driver’s side door of my Firebird, as though this is the strangest part of today.
“What are you doing?”
He pauses, turns to look at me, and rolls his brown eyes, making me scowl at him.
“This is called a car.” He gestures toward it, holding the door open. “People sit inside them and travel to places, but somebody needs to control where it goes. I have the keys.” He dangles themin front of him. “And you just killed someone for the first time, so I’m driving.”
Shoving my fists onto my hips, I resist the urge to stomp my foot. “What has that got to do with anything?”
“Absolutely fucking nothing.” He winks and climbs inside before shouting loud enough for me to hear, “Get your ass in the car, Berkleigh, or I’m celebrating the rest of your birthday without you!”
“Am I evil because I don’t feel like I think I should about any of this?” I slump in the passenger seat, resigned to the fact that he’s about to drive my Firebird because I think I’m beginning to spiral. So many thoughts of how I’m all good with this and shit are beginning to turn on me as we prepare to drive away.
He chuckles. “No. You’re the furthest thing from evil to exist.”
I’m waiting for him to expand on that, but he doesn’t. He just starts up the car and begins to drive. The vibrations from the engine are soothing, but I’m still all up in my own head.
I don’t know how long we’ve been driving, but in my small downward spiral, another thought occurs to me.
“What happens with us when I have done the whole enacting karma thing? Do the lessons stop? Do we go back to hating each other from our porches?” I think that will destroy me more than taking a life, but I can’t let him know that, of course.
He has quickly become my world and, yeah, that’s unhealthy as fuck to attach myself to someone teaching me revenge after my trauma, but he’s more than that. Or is he? He didn’t do the kind of things Taylor did to me, but he…my mind is warring with itself.
I’m conflicted but, for once, I’m having real fun. I’m truly happy. Is all the other crap worth dwelling on? The rights and wrongs of things?
I don’t fucking know anymore.
None of this is normal by any means. In my fantasy book world, I’d just forgive him because he gives great orgasms. But I think I will need that apology…which is a conversation that can wait until a day that isn’t my birthday.
The car comes to an abrupt halt in the middle of the road—thankfully not a busy one—and Tanner turns to look at me.
“Doyouwant to go back to hating each other from our porches?” The smirk isn’t there and I can’t read his expression. I don’t know whether the idea of not hating each other is abhorrent to him.
Putting my fears into the fuck it bucket, because I’m all about open communication, I take a deep breath and decide full honesty is where I’m going with this. Birthday or not.
“No. I think I still hate you a little for the way you treated me after dumping me as a friend for no reason, but I also very much like you and the person you bring out of me. Even though this is as fucked up as it gets.” I’m looking straight ahead now, needing to say all the things without being distracted by his perfectly chiseled and rugged face. “We’re going to need to have a conversation about all that, by the way, about why you turned into the asshole next door. But after”—I wave my hand, gesturing behind us—“all that, I think I’m done dealing with my past for today. I’d like to enjoy the rest of the best fucking birthday I’ve ever had.” Adrenaline still running through my veins—and the fuck it bucket firmly in place—I whip off my seatbelt and lunge toward him, planting my lips on his and demanding entrance with my tongue.
My confidence is through the roof today and I’m loving who I am with it, as long as I don’t think on the whole murder part for too long.
