At first, I’m offended. I’m outraged. After all we’ve been through. I’m about to respond, flustered and angry, when I realize… she’s absolutely right. What the fuck are we?
We’ll never be friends. We’re no longer enemies. We can’t be lovers.
Where does that leave us?
Soldiers at war. Kindred spirits. Two lost, wandering souls with nothing, and everything, in common.
Or… maybe not.
Maybe we aren’t something meant to be labeled. We transcend titles.
And that, I fear, is the most powerful thing of all.
I lower my gaze to Cora’s chest, noting the locket dangling between her breasts. She carries a piece of me with her.
She carries a lot of my pieces with her.
I chew on my cheek, scuffing my foot against the tan carpeting. “Have you seen the recent updates on the case?”
Cora looks taken off guard by the change of subject and starts scratching her wrist, her knee bobbing once again. “Yeah. It’s all over my newsfeed.”
Dammit. I was hoping she hadn’t. “It’s all sorts of fucked. He was grooming these couples to fall in love or some shit before he killed them… it’s sick and twisted.”
Her eyes are wide and glazing over, her breath hitching on the inhale. “He said our time was almost up. Did he think…?”
Our eyes meet.
And I’m dead certain we’re both thinking about what happened against that pole before I tore Earl’s face off.
We both jump, startled, when there’s an incessant pounding on the bedroom door. “Cor? You in there?”
It’s Mandy.
“Be right out,” Cora says, her voice clipped.
“You little hussy! Are you with a guy?” Mandy teases, then barges in, apparently not giving a crap if Cora is getting it on with some guy. She stops in her tracks when she spots me. “Oh. Hey, babe.”
I stuff my hands into my pockets. There’s a flash of suspicion in her eyes and it makes me feel itchy. I know Mandy has seen the news reports about Earl’s true motives, but she hasn’t interrogated me yet. I gulp. “Hey. We were just talking.”
A weird, awkward silence settles between the three of us, and I kind of want to just fall over and play dead like those goats do.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Mandy says, coughing into her hand as she tugs down her hot pink dress with the other. “We’re about to play flippy cup.”
I used to love flippy cup.
I used to love a lot of things.
“Okay, that sounds fun,” Cora says, reaching for her discarded beverage and sparing me a glance. “Count me in.”
The women walk out, and I stand there alone in the middle of the bedroom—in the middle of my fiancé’s bedroom—confused, rattled, and out of sorts.
What the hell did Earl see?
It’s almost midnight and I can’t find her.
I know it’s wrong, I know it’s twisted, I know I’m beyond wasted at this point, but it’s almost fucking midnight. It’s almost a new year. And I know, I know, I should be looking for Mandy right now, the woman I’ve rang in the last fifteen years with.
But I need to find Cora.
We went to Hell and back this year—together. When the clock strikes twelve, it’s a clean slate. A metaphorical new beginning.
“Ten… nine… eight…”
I scan the partygoers who are chanting and smiling, their drinks splashing around in their hands as they wave their noisemakers.
“Seven… six…”
I turn to the small balcony off the kitchen, and that’s where I find her. She’s leaning back against the rail, facing me.
“Five… four…”
I make my way towards her, pushing through a mass of bodies, and reach for the sliding door handle, pulling it open.
“Three…”
A wave of cold air hits me, and I watch as her hair is set in motion from the wind. The sparkles on her blouse twinkle beneath the moonlight, her eyes doing the same.
She’s waiting for me.
“Two…”
I’m about to step out onto the balcony when I feel fingers curl around my elbow.
“There you are!”
I’m spun around in a circle.
“One!”
A mouth meets mine as celebratory cheers ring out around us. Mandy links her arms around my neck, pulling me in for our traditional midnight kiss, and my body wants to protest, push back, disengage… but I just stand there, my arms at my sides, and I allow her to kiss me. I’m too drunk to put up much of a fight, and besides, what would be the point?
Sorry, babe. I kind of wanted to have some one-on-one time with your sister instead. Maybe next year.
I’m a fucking asshole.
Mandy smiles as our lips part and she taps our noses together. That was our first real kiss since her birthday party on that fateful Saturday night.
“Happy New Year, Dean. This one will be better… I promise.” She leans in for one more peck before adjusting the collar of my shirt and stepping back. “Want another drink?”
I want to say yes, but I’m already seeing double. “I think I’m good. I’m going to get going.”
“Okay, I’ll drive you.”
“No, I’ll call an Uber. You’re the party host, Mandy.”
She’s about to argue, but Cora is suddenly beside me, her shoulder brushing up against my arm. “I can drive him. Lily’s hitching a ride with Todd, and I’m getting tired anyway.”
Mandy puts on her gossip face. “Ooh, scandalous. I’ll need details.” Then, as if remembering our encounter in the bedroom earlier, her face falls and her eyes dart between us. “Are you sure, Cor? I don’t mind.”
“Don’t be silly. You can’t leave your apartment unattended.”
Mandy nibbles her lip, looking conflicted, until one of her friends starts calling her over for jello-shots. “Yeah, okay. That works.” She glances over to me. “Call me in the morning?”
I nod.
Cora fishes through her purse for her car keys, then tips her head to the door, encouraging me to follow.
It’s a silent ride to my townhouse, five miles on the other side of town, and I almost fall asleep. But I’m too preoccupied with thinking about the last time we were in a car together, and every time we hit a stoplight, I half expect the window to be smashed open and for a new nightmare to begin.
She helps me into the house a few minutes later because things are starting to spin at this point, and I make my way to the bedroom on stumbling legs, unbuttoning my shirt as I walk. “Come on,” I say to Cora, who is lingering in the doorway, quiet and unsure.
“I should get going. It’s late.”
I pause to face her. She looks nervous, but not the uncomfortable nervous—not the Jason nervous. It’s something else. “Lie down with me.”
A bold request. Goddamn alcohol controlling my tongue.
“Dean…”
“It’s not like we haven’t before.”
She blinks. “That was a mistake.”
I take a step towards her, my shirt hanging open. “I guess if you want to call the best sleep we’ve had in almost two months a mistake, then sure. Okay.”