Chapter Sixty-One Him

Chapter Sixty-One Him

Twenty-Seven Years Earlier

One week to go.

The countdown ticked in my head. I’d stopped concentrating in class. My notes consisted of drawings and maps. I destroyed

both at the end of each day. No evidence left behind.

Screw homework. Screw Mr. Phillips and AP Calculus. The stakes were higher now. The school would cut me slack after the killings.

No one would dare flunk the lone survivor and big school hero. I should get automatic top grades for my bravery. They’d all

be grateful for being alive.

The plans were set. The last three components clicked into place. Gun safe. Car. School schedule. We’d timed out every minute

and ran through the perfect scenario at least twenty times. Until it rolled without any hiccups.

Most practice sessions Cooper did well. He performed his assigned tasks. Figured out how to carry the guns and keep them hidden.

He was an eager and willing assistant. He’d get into it and try to improvise. I stopped that shit fast. There could only be

one leader, and that was me.

A few times after, when we were back home following a test run, usually after Mom’s required family dinner, he’d question if we should go through with it. He’d talk about loving them. He’d ask who would take care of things and pay for stuff if they were gone. Every now and then he’d fixate on a good memory and want to forget the plan.

His back-and-forth answered my biggest question—what to do with Cooper? He lacked commitment, so I had no choice. He’d compromise

everything. Feeling guilty one day, he’d tell the wrong person and we’d get caught. I couldn’t take the risk of him unraveling

my work.

“Are you bored or something?”

My mind snapped back to the present. In the back seat of my car. To the girl beside me with her shirt unbuttoned and her pink

bra peeking out.

“No, babe. We’re good.”

She snorted. “Good?”

I hated that sound.

“Sorry. Family stuff.” That wasn’t exactly a lie.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

I did. I wanted to impress her with how I’d put the puzzle together. Gathering the pieces took months. Medical school would

be a breeze compared to this.

Instead, I shrugged. “It’s nothing.”

“Then...” Her hand moved up my thigh.

I’d miss the sex. She let me touch her however I wanted. She was willing to try things. That’s what made her so perfect. She

did whatever I asked, and I forgot about her the second she was out of my sight.

The photo I convinced her to send me. That one time in the park. Dad was pissed I’d missed curfew, but it was worth it. And

his opinion wouldn’t matter soon.

People would be watching me after this was over, probably following me and trying to get a good look or a trauma-filled picture they could sell. I couldn’t be seen laughing or sneaking around with her. This was serious. All tears and sadness. No fun. Perform so that people would say I was so mature and cheer for me.

Consistency was key. I would not get caught.

“Well?” She squeezed her body close, pressing up against me.

Why not? One more time. But hell, I would miss that mouth. She knew how to use it. She also listened and acted interested...

and knew when to shut up.

Maybe I could keep her on the side and feed her some details. Share and enjoy some of the glory I’d have to pretend I didn’t

feel. Tempting. I couldn’t trust her, but I could entertain her while she got me off.

She kissed my neck and her hand slipped into my jeans.

“Kathryn...”