Page 55 of Best Man on Campus

Her pained murmurings are all about disbelief, like she doesn’t trust her own memory and needs Sarah to tell her. She’s been burying the truth so long she can’t trust it now, or still isn’t ready to face it. Still loves Killian or that part of him that was good to her.

I swear under my breath as I hold Jazzy. Sarah, whoever she is, God bless her because she did Jazzy a favor. I’m not a bloodthirsty person or vengeful, but this I believe with all my heart and soul.

In fact if fucking Killian was still alive, I’d go after him myself, not sure what I’d do when I got him except cause him pain. I would love to have caused him a great deal of pain, the fucking bastard.

When Jazzy leaves my room early in the morning, she’s distant and, in spite of her sharing her most intimate secrets with me, any closeness or breakthroughs we’ve made are marred by the specter of her twin demons, Killian and Sarah. I know Sarah has the answer to the question of what really happened to her. That’s the question Jazzy really wants answered by the woman. The reason she hasn’t looked for Sarah, hasn’t pressed the police to find out is because the pain of discovering the truth is too much. But she’s close now, maybe ready to accept the full truth of what happened that night. To accept that her Uncle Killian was a fucking rapist pediphile,

A sick fucking bastard.

I can’t afford to lie in bed dwelling on the overwhelming truths Jazzy shared, or think about the attempt at lovemaking afterwards, or even her distance this morning. The Frozen Four tournament starts in two days plus I need to get my shit together for the med school applications due in a week.

Though right now, as I rise from the bed that smells like jasmine, none of that seems important.

I get ready and head to the rink. I want to text her, to drive to her apartment and hold her, but she asked me for some space, said she wanted to rest today. Of course I need to respect her request, but it kills me because I’m falling for her. I don’t know how else to describe the way she occupies so much space in my head, in my heart and soul, making it hard to concentrate on anything else. Including the fucking morning skate.

After the skate’s over, I sit on the bench in the dressing room, sweating, trying to untie my skates while my mind tries to untangle the mystery of Killian and how to free Jazzy from his grip, to help her get past his murder and move on, to see that he’s not the only one who ever loved her.

Because maybe I love her. I snort. “Fuck.” No kidding I love her. Genius revelation.

“What the hell’s wrong with you?” Kace says, sitting next to me. He’s already dressed in his street clothes and I realize I’ve been inside my head too long.

“It’s a long story. Fucking shitty story,” I admit. I need to find Sarah so that Jazzy can face her, so that she can free herself of her demons. Even if it means she doesn’t need me anymore. Even if it means she hates me for finding out something she doesn’t want to know. I’m willing to sacrifice my heart to heal her. That’s what I tell myself.

I look at Kace, “What do you have right now?”

He shrugs, “I have an hour to kill. I’m getting breakfast at the Backstreet Diner with a couple of guys. You’re the one with organic chem.”

“Fuck organic chem,” I say. His eyes go wide because he knows how hard I’ve been working at it, but I can miss today’s lecture without the world ending. I’m not my father. I know what’s most important. The woman I love. I stand and pull off my shirt. “Wait for me. I’ll be five minutes. I need to talk to you about something. Private.”

“I’m here.”

Kace lets the other guys know there’s a change of plans and we go to the diner and order breakfast, but I don’t touch my food. I tell Kace the story of Killian’s murder, leaving out the private details, but he gets the flavor and hideousness of the problem, what’s made Jazzy the way she is.

“Fucking A. I want to find that chick Sarah and give her a medal.”

“Yeah. I’m glad you’re on my page because I intend to find her.”

“Why?”

“Jazzy’s not facing reality too well. She’s confused dreams with reality. She needs Sarah to tell her what happened, to force her to face the truth point blank.”

“And you know this because you took a psychiatric genius pill this morning?”

“No. Because I listened to Jazzy’s nightmares half the night.” That shuts him up. “And I’d like your help. Or more accurately, your dad’s help.”

He nods. “Anything. Though I can’t speak for Dad. You know he’s not with the police anymore. He’s in corporate security now.”

“But he still has contacts, right?” Kace nods.

“I’ll text him now, see what he needs and what he can do.”

“That’s all I can ask, bro. Thank you.”

“Anything. I feel bad. About Jazzy.” He shrugs, not knowing what to say, because what can you say?

“I know. But she’s damn strong and fucking brave. I think she’ll be okay.”

“If you have anything to say about it, she will. She’s lucky to have you.”