Page 111 of Jerk
“I know being without my parents is for the better, too.” My heart still breaks when I think about them. When I think about my mother. I’ll never be in their good graces after what happened. I’ve also never felt as calm in my home as I do in the Rowens’, which makes me wonder. Was I ever truly home before? “Sometimes you try so hard to fit in, you forget it’s an act.”
Krystal lifts her head. “Didn’t a Playboy bunny say that?”
“Yeah, and she’s worth millions.”
That gets a small laugh and a momentary glance. “Do you think he feels relief? Like…” Krystal takes another drink from the bottle. “Like if there’s an afterlife?” Then another. “He didn’t look at us with love. I don’t even think he liked us. He only had expectations.” Her brows knit before she lets out another small laugh. “He definitely never looked at our mother the way Ryung looks at you.”
It’s hard to ignore the tingle in my chest, hearing her words. “If there is an afterlife, I think he feels more relief there than my father does here.” Another soft smile flickers on Krystal's face before it fades again. “Will you release a statement?”
I don’t remember seeing anything about his death since it happened. While families in The Hill like to keep things as under wraps as possible, Andrew Rowen wasn’t just some dude.
Krystal snorts. “We didn’t even bury him.”
“He doesn’t deserve it.” Rye’s voice comes from the entrance, and when I look towards it, he stands with a pink box in his hands, his eyes on me.
THIRTY-SIX
RYE
“I toldyou not to keep me waiting.” Leaning against the entrance to the kitchen, box of eclairs in my hand, her cheeks turn red when my eyes rake her frame.
I want her back on her knees. Or on top of me. Or bent over for me. But my sister and her unnecessary mourning make that impossible.
Moving into the kitchen, I’m careful about keeping my robe over my hard-on. As I pass Krystal, I take the knife from her hand and push it through our father’s face.
She looks up at me with glossy eyes and a crinkled forehead before my eyes land on the bottle of gin beside her. I don’t know if that’s a problem or not, but I haven’t seen her drink in years.
“This isn’t your fault.” Grabbing the bottle, I knock some back, hoping the bitter burn of gin softens the burn of seeing my dead father’s face.
It doesn’t.
“Mom didn’t even give him a funeral," Krystal says. "No memorial. No wake. Nothing." The air quiets as if we’re giving our father a moment of silence he doesn’t deserve.
Hannah’s words break it. “Do you really want to celebrate the life of someone who didn’t care about yours?”.
“Isn’t it healthy for us to dosomething?” Krystal presses.
A smirk starts on my face. “We’ll throw a party.”
“You would say that,” Hannah says. “But I thought we weren’t celebrating him.”
“Not him. His death.” Standing next to Hannah, my arm comes around her back, pulling her close. My finger trails down to her thigh as her body falls against me. This warmth, this body… it does something to me that’s getting harder and harder to ignore. “Crimson. Sex. Filth. Everything its always been. No black attire. Red only.”
“You’re honouring your dead father with a sex party?” Hannah sounds unimpressed.
“It’s not about honouring him in the slightest. I just know he’d hate it.” He’d despise it. “Why not give the people more of what they want? And for us, it’ll be a good release.”
“That… would actually be kinda cool,” Krystal says, sitting up. “Fuck tradition. Look how far that got us. We should mourn surrounded by people who don’t give a fuck that our father’s dead. Ryung’s right, he doesn’t deserve honour.” Her fist bangs on the concrete counter, then her face shifts, her eyes moving back to mine. “But we can’t have a party without a statement, can we?”
“The judge ruled self-defence,” I remind her. “We’ll keep it that way.”
“No press.” Krystal pushes the picture away from her, the dim light casting on her tired eyes. “The board can release a statement after the event. But for now, I think I need this.”
“We all do.” My hand slips to Hannah’s ass, giving it a pinch that makes her blush again. There’s something about making the Queen of Paradise Hill flustered that I’ll never tire of. “This time, you’re invited, Kitten.”
“No.” Hannah looks between us, my head whipping to hers. “I want to support you, but I don’t have time for a Crimson Party. I’m so far behind on studying, and I need to find a new internship ASAP.”
“Fuck that,” Krystal says. “You can be studious later. You have to be there. It’ll mean a lot to me, Han.”
