Read Killing Kate for Free Online

dinner
sometime,” Justin tells us.  “Mom would love to see you both.  I’ve got to go
after this and help her out with some things around the house but I’ll ask her
about a date that would work.  She can make her famous Bolognese sauce.”
    “Okay,” I tell him.  We get the
bill and Justin doesn’t let us pay.  I get the impression he is far more
financially stable than we are, which is likely why Devin and I don’t do much
protesting.  When he leaves I tell Devin “I should probably get back too.  I
have to work.”
    “That was nice to see Justin,” he
says.  I agree with him.  “I know how much you hate to be reminded of the past,
Jenna,” Devin begins to say.  My heart thumps and I can feel it in my temples. 
“When I think about what I remember from that time I get freaked out.  I was
there, Jenna, same as you, and even though I didn’t go through what you did, I
saw enough.”
    “Devin, don’t,” I plead.  I don’t
want to cry.  He stops me.
    “No, hear me out, Jenna.  I’ve
never told you this but I still see a therapist, and it’s helped me with all of
this shit.  Maybe you could see her too?”
    I’ve had enough.  I feel the words
brimming to the surface and I can no longer swallow them and sit quietly.  “Fuck
you Devin,” I say.  “I can’t fucking believe you are comparing what you saw to
what I went through.  This isn’t just some shit in my head I can talk through
and move on from.  Dad fucked me up beyond repair.  He let men fuck me, Devin,
before I even knew what fucking meant.  That isn’t just some shit I can talk
through with a therapist, its part of me.  You hate Kate?  Guess what?  She was
there for me through all of it.  She is the only one in the world who
experienced what I experienced.  You think that listening to your sister
screaming through a paper thin wall is the same thing as getting fucked at
eight years old?  Do you think watching it happen is just like having it happen
to you?  Fuck you.”  I stand up and snatch my purse off the back of my chair. I
walk away, leaving Devin sitting alone at the table with the most hurt
expression on his face.
    I feel terrible about how I just
bitched out Devin when he seemed already pretty upset and ultimately I just
feel terrible about how fucked up my life is.  I’m walking down 95 th Street and fumbling in my purse for a cigarette and sobbing.  It’s hot and
awful outside, and I pass people on the street but I don’t really give a shit
how I look.  It feels like the worst day of my life but I know I’ve had it way
worse than today actually is.
    The train ride is blurry, but
somehow I find myself back at my apartment and getting ready to go dance.  I
shower and dress and put on makeup like a robot in a trance.  Work is the only
thing I’ve looked forward to all day long and I end up showing up forty minutes
early and sit at the bar and let Carlos pour me drinks and talk to Alicia for a
bit.
    “So there was a sexy mafia guy at
your dad’s funeral?” she says.  “What was that all about?  How old was your
dad?”
    “Fifty two,” I tell her, “And as
for the mafia dude, I have no idea,” I reply.  I’m drinking straight vodka
tonight.  I decide after a day of being drunk on Jameson I should switch to
clear.  I can’t really put a finger on my logic, but it seems crisper and less
dirty than the whiskey.  “He was just there, he gave his condolences, and then
he left.”
    “What was his name?” she asks me. 
“What did he look like?  Was he single?”
    “Dirk?” I say.  “Dave Carroll? 
Christ, Alicia, I don’t know.”
    “Drake Carroll,” Carlos pipes in
from behind the bar, refreshing my glass.  “He’s involved in Chicago politics
or something.  His brother is running for something political down in
Washington, I think.  His father was a state senator back in the day.”
    “How do you know all of this?” I
ask him.  “I barely know who the vice