Guilt (16 page)

While she felt insulted for her friend, she was only vaguely aware that her pain and guilt fueled her anger and irrational thoughts. This audience couldn't be here to pay their respects. Corry's sad story was a spectacle for them. They were here for the gossip, and for the attention.

Corry's father spoke the eulogy after the preacher's sermon, and the moment became tender. The strong farmer who physically toiled everyday for his family, couldn't bite back the tears while he attempted to express his love for his son, and tried to explain how he wished he could tell Corry how much he meant to his family. He sobbed in silence between assertions that he blamed himself for being a strict parent, and lamented over having turned a blind eye to the fact that his youngest boy was somehow suffering enough to end his life. He felt the fault weigh heavily on him, standing there in the front of a chapel full of mourners.

From her position in the back of the room, Claire gathered up that same regret and took it unto her own shoulders.

She witnessed Corry's mother as his father spoke. She hunched over her seat lower and lower as her husband fell apart at the pulpit. Her misery physically pressed upon her. The loss of a child was beyond Claire's comprehension, but as she glanced at her own parents, she noted the empathy in their own tear streaks faces. They clutched Lil and Claire close to them, afraid to imagine what it would be like to bury their own children.

When the service ended, most people didn't move towards the door. They gathered around the family, giving support through their continued presence, and saying their private goodbyes to the ashen faced boy on view within the open casket.

That was when Claire remembered that this was a small town, a close-knit community. These people weren't present to gloat. They weren't trying for attention. They had nothing to gain for themselves by being here – except maybe closure. Closure for a familiar life that was gone; perspective for an innocence that was shaken; sympathy for those who knew the loss of a loved one taken from them; awareness for the delicate lifespan that no one realized they had until someone else's was cut short.

Claire knew that she couldn't have closure or perspective or understanding for herself just yet. She could only feel grief and sympathy, and something she thought no one else should truly have to burden but herself. Guilt. She felt accountable for the life lost and the suffering caused because she turned away from the one person who knew her and liked her.

And she couldn't take it back
.

The line that had formed to allow the mourners to pass by Corry's casket brought Claire face to face with the boy that she discussed trivial things such as the conventions of the gym locker rooms and the literary undertones of George Eliot's books with only a week ago. His features were the same, but she could hardly recognize him with no animation in his face and without the blue eyes that displayed his various emotions. Even the freckles on his nose had faded to gray.

A pain in her head that she had ignored all morning decided to make itself acknowledged at this point. She became dizzy and nauseous. When she tried to take in more air to steady herself, a tickle in her throat began to burn, causing her to cough. Her mother stood beside her and caught her when Claire leaned into her for support.

The woman placed her hand on Claire's face. "Clairebie, you're burning up."

Without any further delays, her parents took her home, leaving Lil with her friends. Her mother helped her into her pajamas and got her into bed. Claire needed rest. Sleep had been such a comfort to her during the last few days. She just wished that she could go to sleep and wake up forgetting Corry.

Chapter Twenty-One

"Actually, the location was my idea."

I turned and looked at Kain, trying to understand his words. What did he mean the location was his idea? The location of the grave? The location of our picnic? I felt my eyes knit together in association with my confusion.

My reaction made him smile. But that smile wasn't the same as his former pleasant grins. His right eye squinted slightly as the right corner of his mouth curved into a smirk.

He walked towards me, then passed me and sat down on the blanket. "Have a seat, Claire."

The guard that I had let down in his presence during the last few days went back up. Something didn't feel right. His disposition changed just now and his words didn't make sense.

"Claire," he looked up at me, "Please, sit down."

There, the politeness was back. Perhaps my mind over-reacted in regards to his behavior a few seconds ago. I sat down. My guard released a little, but it still remained entact now that it had returned.

Kain picked up the thermos and began filling two plastic mugs with cocoa. He handed one to me. I sipped it, and it burned my tongue, so I blew across the top. The atmosphere between us felt awkward, so I decided to address the source of my confusion.

"Um," I said, nervous about sounding ridiculous, "What did you mean just a moment ago about the location being your idea?"

Kain blew on his own cocoa, and gave me a cool glance. "I almost thought you were going to let that one slip by you."

He put his mug down, and inched in closer to me, invading my space with the intimacy of his leg against mine. "Well, since I can tell that you're searching for closure about Corry . . ." I lowered my eyes, guilty about the transparency of my intentions. He laughed. "Allow me to put your guilty conscience at rest."

My hope perked up at that, despite the shame of being called out on my method for closure; but it became stifled almost immediately when he put his arm around my shoulder. His grip held me tight, stunning me and causing me to release my cocoa, which spilled over the blanket and onto the dirt. When his face moved in close to my ear, I stiffened.

"I chose this site," he whispered, tickling my skin with his breath, "and Corry helped me dig the grave."

What the hell? He was teasing me. He was getting a laugh at my expense. This was a side of him I had not seen. And I didn't like it.

I tried to pull away, but his grip held me tighter, in such a way that he made it difficult for me to hit him in any debilitating areas of his body.

"No, no," he said, "don't you want to hear about it? Because I'd really like to tell you."

"I don't know what you're talking about," and I didn't care to know, so I struggled again, with the same lack of results.

"That's why I'm going to tell you," he talked down to me like I was a child who needed to be guided. His grip continued to hold strong.

"Do you have any idea how good it feels to have control over someone? Complete control? Like a god?"

Oh my God, where was he going with this? I felt as helpless as I did seven years ago when Luke attacked me in my dorm room. I wouldn't let my mind leave my body this time, though, I vowed to myself. I had to fight this new threat if I wanted any chance of keeping my own sanity.

"I don't want to know," I replied, not bothering to curb any signs of distaste from my voice.

"Then you're missing out." He squeezed me and shook my body a little bit in his excitement over the subject. "That little girl, her name was Leslie. What a little cutie she was. A heartbreaker. She knew she was developing a body that would get guys attention. She was a little flirt, too. I could tell she wanted me."

I listened, my jaw starting to tremble in my rapidly increasing fear.

"She came out to the hayfields every day during the summer to watch me on the tractor. She loved it when I took my shirt off. I asked her to take her shirt off, too, but she never would go that far." Kain's gaze turned distant as he replayed a memory in his head. "Til one day, I made her."

I began to realize my worst fears about the direction this moment was taking. Something was wrong with this man. I should have known his politeness and friendliness was too good to be true.

"Things got hot from there. I don't know why she tried to fight me. If she wouldn't have fought me, I wouldn't have had to get so mean with her. But then, once I got started, it felt so good. The power it gave me was just -
incredible
. I could make her cry over the smallest action – a slap, a shove, a broken toe."

"No," I cried, "I don't want to hear it." His words made me absolutely sick. I'd wretch if I heard anymore. I tried to struggle free from his grasp, but he twisted over me, pinning my shoulders to the ground. He climbed on top of me and held my legs down with his own.

"Don't you want closure, Claire?" He lowered his face within an inch of my own. "It's not your fault that Corry took his life." He smiled when my eyes went wide at the mention of Corry. "See? I knew you'd want to hear this.

"You see, things got a little rough – I know you don't want the details – but, basically, I broke the girl's neck. Corry was my best friend, so he's the one I turned to for help. He wasn't exactly happy about what I'd done, but he was my brother, and brother's stick together. When he helped me bring her out here and bury her, I made an accomplice out of him."

I struggled to get out from under Kain, realizing that this was more than even a rapist with whom I found myself ensnared. This was a murderer. He pressed his full weight on me to prevent my escape.

"That boy had such a guilty conscience, though. Me, I let it go; but he couldn't. It bugged him constantly. You know he threatened to turn us in a couple of times? He actually thought about ratting on his own brother. I think he even tried to reach out to you, like with that drawing. I'll even bet this was the place you mentioned that he wanted to take you."

Oh, God. My guilt pivoted towards a new plain. That suggestion meant that I didn't reject Corry's affections. I rejected his plea for help.

"You know, I found him that Friday afternoon with a noose around his neck? He had written a letter of confession, and was standing at the edge of the hayloft trying to drum up the guts to jump, or the courage to confess to his part in Leslie's disappearance. That would mean a life in prison. For both of us."

Kain lowered his nose to my hair and took a deep breath. Then, he began caressing my face with his cheek.

"I knew that if he lived, it would only be a matter of time before he really did confess. That's why I helped him make his decision. Before he could chicken out, I pushed him out of the loft. Then, of course, I burned the letter."

He rose up to look me in the eyes. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to have to kill your best friend? Your own brother?"

Tears were streaming down my face at this point, wetting my hair. They blurred my eyes so that I couldn't see the expression on Kain's face when he asked me that ludicrous question.

I whimpered and he hushed me. Pushing his shoulder against mine to free his hand, he smoothed the matted, tear soaked hair from my face. That gentleness, after all that he'd just revealed to me, disturbed me more than his restraining weight on my body did.

"It's fitting, you know? It's a neat culmination, you and me here, right now. This was the burial place of the first girl that I wielded my power over, and now I'm back here again, to claim it over the woman who let my brother's death control her for the last twelve years." He ran his other hand down my arm, grasping my wrist. "You have no idea what this kind of power does to me."

He leaned down to place a forceful kiss upon my lips, and I knew that this was the moment that I had to really fight. If I didn't defend myself now, then I would lose this battle.

His leg shifted and the restraining power it had over my own limb diminished. Without delay, I used the opportunity to raise my leg between his and made unfriendly contact with his balls. Since it was my quadriceps and not my knee that connected to his week spot, the damage wasn't as great; but the surprise that he felt at the action was enough to cause him to release my wrist and to raise himself from his position over me.