***

  In regards to the murders, the story became clear. Both women were high on the Peace Fruit when the man, who was sober, had encountered them. They had fought him like the animals that they were, but he had won. Because he was clear-headed, he was able to utilize his new strength far more efficiently than they could in their state. He had killed them when they began to scream.

  Penny told me her story in a tiny voice so unfitting of her normally boisterous personality. James and I sat beside her as Violet and Elijah paced outside in the hallway. Her honesty on the subject was astounding, but because she was so young, she did not know that she could have lied. James and I had agreed that we would only console her. We would not offer any halfhearted lectures on the immorality of killing another human being, which is what Don had told us to do before James had threatened to knock his teeth out. It was hilarious and infuriating, how easily Don’s creed was exposed for its hypocrisy. It was immoral for Penny to kill Donovan, when we supposedly lived in a society with no rules or morals. Instead of telling her what Don had said he wanted us to tell her, we stressed to her that what she had done was an act of self-defense. We promised her that we would never allow such a terrible thing to happen to her again.

  Luckily, her mind had been clouded by her instincts during the act. The aftermath had been what had scared her. Tears leaked from her big, blue eyes as she told us about coming around to her senses and finding blood covering her body.

  “I didn’t know what happened. But I think I really hurt him.”

  I had not lied. I had just reiterated to her that she had been defending herself.

  For several days, she was sullen, withdrawn from the simple work she did in the kitchen and from the people with whom she normally joked around and spoke to happily about anything and everything. Everyone understood, God or Gods bless them.

  If I am remaining perfectly honest, I will tell you that I feared for James. I feared that his friends on security detail would ostracize him for what he had done. So many had witnessed the after-effects of his abuse, and as a result, the entire house knew the gory details. My fears were unnecessary, however; several men and women had suffered similar moments of frantic violence the day after their high. In fact, only a select few, myself included, had not.

  Now, one would assume that after two women were slain and several people attacked their loved ones following their night of drugged frivolity, that the Peace Fruit would never be seen again in our house or consumed by the populace.

  No. Not only did people continue to consume the berries one right after the other, they also began to drink whole bottles of the cheap liquor that had been scavenged from the ship on top of it. The parties were disgusting cesspools of sex, erotic violence, and screaming thanks to Don.

  “Do you remember The Great Gatsby?” I asked James one night as I sat up in our bed, reading another one of Fitzgerald’s great works.

  “Indeed, I do. Who doesn’t remember The Great Gatsby?”

  “Many, I am sure,” I replied, “Do you remember how the parties thrown at Gatsby’s mansion were described? They were considered wild, which was so telling of the time period.”

  “Well, that was the Roaring Twenties, at least according to my grandfather. That’s exactly how he described it.” James replied as he sketched my picture absentmindedly. I could not help but smile slightly as I watched him looking down over his glasses at the paper with his brows furrowed in concentration. I had not been aware until just a day or so earlier that he possessed such an affinity for drawing. While he had been in the woods, he had sketched several nature scenes that would make any art professor fall over himself in awe.

  “For some reason, whenever I read that book, which was often, I always wanted to be there.”

  “At one of Gatsby’s parties?”

  “Indeed. I always wanted to experience the total abandon of living in that time when morals were shunned and people boozed themselves into demented delirium every night.”

  He looked up at me, grinning widely. I turned my head on the side, raised my eyebrows and frowned jokingly.

  “Plow ahead with your acerbic comment, my love. I can see that it is one you cannot suppress.”

  He did not need me to tell him twice.

  “You, Brynna Olivier, actually wanted to have fun?”

  I kicked his leg lightly and he laughed to himself.

  “That was not even clever, and yes, I did. The point of the story, Mr. Maxwell, is that I know now that I would rather die than engage in such folly. I know now that it is very dangerous for human beings to be given the freedom to embrace their dark side.”

  “Maybe so. But I think Gatsby’s parties, though extravagant, did not involve people using drugs and smacking the shit out of each other or worse. His were just for fun, for celebration.”

  “Well, they were also for show, which you and I both know is partly the motivation behind these parties thrown by Don. But those moronic children downstairs would have us believe that what they are doing is also for celebration.”

  “But we know that’s not the case.” James assured me, “They’re doing that because for the first time in their lives, there is no one to tell them they can’t. In fact, they even have Don who is encouraging them. And I’m sure Adam is, as well.” His expression darkened upon mentioning his name. After we had resolved our issues, he had asked me where Adam had taken me and what was said. I had declined to answer.

  “Will you ever tell me what happened?” James asked me quietly after putting his pencil down.

  “No.” I answered through a yawn and a stretch.

  “You’re sure he didn’t hurt you?”

  “Would I be this calm if he had?”

  “I suppose not.” James eyed me curiously, “I think you feel like you won something over him.”

  “What?” My face contorted into a look of confusion, “Won what, dare I ask?”

  “I don’t know, because you won’t tell me.”

  “Should I be expecting belligerence now, James?” I turned my head on the side and raised my eyebrow again.

  “Not belligerence. Just curiosity.”

  “You know what they say about curiosity, don’t you? It kills felines.”

  “Oh, well, luckily, I’m not a feline. In fact, if I’m anything, I’m a canine.”

  “Yes,” I widened my eyes and nodded slowly, “You are.”

  Our slight disagreement over my secrecy dissolved. We both laughed until he jumped up and came forward quickly to kiss me hard.

  “I love you.” He told me softly.

  “I love you.” I answered back sincerely before pressing my lips to his again. “Show me the picture.”

  “No. It's terrible. It doesn't do you justice.”

  “Stop. Let me see it.”

  “Only if you fully understand that I am very tired, and that makes drawing difficult...”

  “Stop acting like a shy, insecure little girl and show me the damn picture, James Maxwell.” I ordered him only half seriously.

  “Oh my God! You're going to give me an eating disorder or a drinking problem if you keep talking to me like that, woman!” He exclaimed in mock rage as he sat up and grabbed the pad of paper from the end of our bed. “I didn't sign it, so it isn't worth anything.”

  I chuckled to myself as I opened the pad to the page that he had drawn on. My mouth fell open slightly as I observed the drawing; every contour of my body and every detail of my face was spot-on. In the picture, my hand was rested lightly against the side of my face where I always placed it while I read. In the picture, I was so very beautiful, almost sensual in a way. My slender legs were curled up and crossed over at the ankle, and the book rested against my knees. My face was fixed into an expression of both curiosity and peace, as though the future events in the story I was reading were being guessed in my mind, but I was not tormenting myself over not knowing exactly what was to come.

  “I'm not normally this sensitive about it. But what do yo
u think?” James asked me softly. In my peripheral vision, I could see him studying me closely.

  “I think you made me look very pretty.” I couldn't fight the smile that emerged when I turned my head to look at him.

  He reached out and gently moved my long hair away from my face.

  “You are pretty. You're beautiful, Brynna.”

  My smile grew, and I kissed him. I closed my eyes as our lips moved together tenderly.

  “Do you want to hear something rather odd?”

  “Sure.”

  “I don't think I would have been able to survive all of this if I didn't have you. If we hadn't met, I might have been able to pull through. But we did meet, and we got closer. If I hadn't found you in the woods...”

  His lips were on mine again for a quick, warm kiss.

  “You would have pulled through. If there's one thing I know for sure, it's that you would have survived, Brynna. But either way, you did find me. I'm here. We're together.”

  “I know. I suppose what I am trying to say is that I am thankful for you. I am thankful that I have you here with me. I am thankful that I have been able to get past whatever you want to call my issues and that I am able to admit that I love you. I don't know how I was able to feel so strongly for you so quickly, but I do.”

  “I know you do, and believe me, I love you the same way. I'm baffled by it, too. I don't know how it's possible to feel this way about someone I only met a few months ago. At my age, you don't subscribe to the idea of love at first sight or even strong love at all, really. But something about you changed that in me. I know it's very real. It's very strong. Call me crazy, but I think it can last, Brynn.”

  I smiled and nodded.

  “So do I.”

  We laid down side by side, grasping hands. I looked up at him, still smiling.

  “It’s a free day tomorrow. What do you want to do?”

  Don gave us all one day off from work a week.

  “We can take Penny down to the lake. That will get her mind off of things.”

  “It will.” I beamed, “She loves to swim down there. As long as you go in the water with her, because you know that I will not.”

  “Yeah, I know. You and your fear of natural water. It was only a gargantuan water monster with huge teeth and strangling tentacles, Brynna. Seriously, you’ve got to move on.”

  I laughed again.

  “Yeah, well,” I shrugged, “We all have our little phobias, don’t we? Some people are afraid of spiders. Some people are afraid of prehistoric water beasts.”

  “Some people are afraid of cucumbers. It happens, right?”

  “It happens.” He was leaning towards me to kiss me again, and I closed the space between our mouths. When we laid down, I nestled my head against his chest and closed my eyes.

  “Oh! We forgot to blow out the candles and turn the fire down!” I jumped up to go do both, silently chiding myself for forgetting such an important action. We could have burnt the house down with all of its idiotic party-goers inside. How very tragic that would have been…

  “No. You stay here. It’s cold. I’ll do it.” He kissed my forehead as he stood up.

  “You are sweet.”

  “I try, but only for you, baby. I have to make up for when I’m a dog.”

  I giggled and covered my mouth as I always did to stifle the sound. When he returned, I held up the animal fur blanket so he could crawl underneath of it. Our joint heat perfectly fought off the chill of the evening. Now that the fire was turned down, we had only the blanket and each other to keep warm.

  “You’re not a dog, James.” I told him as I closed my eyes.

  “No?”

  “No way.”

  After a few minutes of quiet, I spoke again.

  “Do you think they will bury that man? Don said that they will, but I just cannot believe that someone would want to memorialize such a despicable person.”

  “Well, unfortunately, Don is that someone. He's probably the only person on this planet who wants to have a funeral for that piece of shit. People are pissed about what he did. Out of all the people who died, four were suicides and two were murders. People are even more pissed about the fact that the murderer was sober when he did what he did. But yeah, as soon as he dies, we'll all be expected to turn out in droves to put him to rest. Maybe he'll even expect us to cry, which I'm sure is going to be quite difficult for you, despite your affinity for act...”

  I sat up suddenly after my eyes jerked open. James sat up, too, his eyes white. He assumed that my sudden motion was the result of a foreboding feeling warning me of danger in the house.

  “He's still alive?” I asked in a voice that was beginning to tremble.

  “You didn't know that.” James realized before rubbing his eyes with both hands. “Oh, shit...”

  “How is he alive? She inflicted great damage on him. He was bleeding out of his eyes when they carried him from the room. I assumed he would be dead in minutes, and you are telling me now that he has been alive for a day and a half?”

  “No. I was lying,” He told me quickly, “I was mistaken.”

  I blinked at him for several uncomfortable seconds.

  “I was!” He insisted, “I must have heard it wrong.”

  “You know what I'm going to say.” I growled at him with my eyes narrowed slightly.

  “Yeah, and I will. I'm shutting up.” He laid back down and pulled me towards him. “Baby, even if he lives, he won't be able to do that again. He won't be physically able to hurt anyone again, least of all Penny. I'm sure he'll never go toe-to-toe with her again. Look what she did to him!”

  “If he can find the strength in his mutilated body to harm her, he certainly will.” I whispered back as I laid my head on his chest. “He will most certainly want revenge for what she did to him. I cannot afford to take that chance.”

  He turned sideways so that I was lying beside him and he could look into my eyes as he spoke.

  “If he comes after Penny, we will deal with him together. Until then, just leave him alone. Don't do anything stupid, Brynn. Acting recklessly right now is stupid. You and I both know you're anything but that, don't we?”

  I nodded and kissed him gently.

  “Yes,” I replied convincingly, “You're right. For once.”

  “I was bound to get a win on the board sometime, wasn't I?”

  I smiled again.

  “Yes. I suppose so. I will see you in the morning, my dear.”

  Being overly intelligent made lying quite easy. I could correctly gauge which lies were believable and which were not. I could easily decide which details should be spoken and which would give away the ruse. Body language and eye contact were key to pulling off a lie, either big or small. As I smiled up at James, keeping my eyes locked on his, I knew that he believed me. Inside, my smile grew.