You First: A Joe Goldberg Prequel (You, #0)(120)
“I mean it, Joe. You’re not getting away with this.”
“I would never leave you when you’re upset, Vail.”
Your shoulders drop, and it feels good to be coveted, possessed. You want me to be all yours, same way Mr. Mooney locked me up. I’m starting to see the pattern, Vail. People who care about me have this thing where they need to hold me hostage, probably because I was neglected or something and they think I need this extra dose of love.
You sigh. “Fair is fair.” I don’t know what you mean by that until you walk to the kitchen and pick up your cell phone. “I found evidence and I’ll turn it over to the cops.”
I make my choice. I fight for you. “All right, Vail…You got me.”
You put the phone down and look at me. “You ‘got’ me. What is that?”
Girls do that. They pick one word and hold on to it.
“Look, I didn’t do anything to him, but I lied about seeing him. I was afraid of…” Don’t say you. “This.”
“?‘This’?”
“Well, look how mad you are.”
“Oh my God, you are standing here telling me you killed him.”
“Vail…”
Sometimes you say a girl’s name in a way where you become her mother and her father and everyone who ever loved her all at once. You are stumped. Soft. “So what happened? You were out with him and he died and you left him there but took his dog tags? I mean, explain it to me, Joe.”
It’s a good time for me to shed a tear, and holy shit, my tear ducts rock. I shed a tear. “You feel guilty for not being with him, and I’m the opposite…I feel guilty ’cause he was on a bender. And I should’ve dragged him to a rehab or something. He got kicked out of the bar, he was doing I don’t know what in the bathroom and by the time we got here…He puked on the floor and passed out in the tub. You were at Cynthia’s and it was easier not to tell you. And a couple days later he died…What was I supposed to do? What does it matter?”
You look down at my area rug like a little Harriet the Spy. Our nice clean area rug. “Okay.”
“I planned on telling him he needs help in the morning, but I woke up and he’d already split. He left the dog tags in the tub and yeah, I blame myself a little, but you know me. This is why I generally stay away from those guys. I’m not a party animal. I’m not a dog. And I didn’t know anything about the stuff you told me today. I didn’t know the way he felt about you, I didn’t know about his…ya know, so gimme a minute to catch up here, ya know.”
You do, but you’re a girl, never wrong, so you purse your lips and nod.
“And Vail…I get it. You found the dog tags. Whoa. But also…you didn’t ‘find’ them. They’re right there in my sweatpants. I’m not hiding anything. I forgot about them because, yeah…I should’ve stayed up to watch out for him. And I have to live with that, I know.”
I don’t overdo it—I’m a man, a strong man—and you clutch his dog tags like rosary beads. I did it—I got you—and the earthquake starts in your shoulders. They jump up and down, and the rumbling spreads through your body, into your lips, your limbs. Are you going to explode? Release all that pent-up anger at Dick by riding me in our California king?
You wipe your nose on your sleeve. “So he stayed here.”
“Yep.”
“And he left in the morning?”
The ridiculousness and I say it again. “Yep.”
You open the freezer and pick up the Grey Groose. “Well, that’s funny because I know Dick never takes off those dog tags. And when he crashes at my house…” Oh, stop it. “He always takes my vodka on his way out. This bottle’s been here a while, Joe.”
FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK and you’re at it again, stomping around like a jacked-up conspiracy fucking theorist and this is why serial killers should never take trophies. Wait. No. I’m not a “serial killer.” I killed one dirtbag, and I forgot about his stupid necklace. It’s not a trophy. You’re getting in my head, lecturing me like a fed-up teacher who thought being with kids would make her love kids even more, and every other word out of your mouth is Dick and how do you not get it? He’s gone! Game over! I DID NOT CHOOSE THIS MOTHERFUCKING ADVENTURE. My pants are too big for you, and your history is too much for me. What would Dick do right now? He’d put you in your little fucking place. And maybe this is like that. Maybe I have to be a dick.
“All right, Vail. There is one other thing about that night…”
You throw your head back. “Thank you.”
“The girl he was seeing, the lawyer, well, she sort of…I didn’t want to upset you.”
Girlfriend voice, like we’re comparing long crazy nights out on the town. “I don’t care…She ‘sort of’ what, Joe?”
My sophomore biology teacher’s chalkboard. KISS. Keep It Simple Stupid. “She made a pass at me. And that’s why Dick imploded.”
I’m the man. Me! You fold your arms and that’s right, baby. You better be good to me. “Huh. Before you said you didn’t know much about her but now she’s hitting on you….”
I HATE LYING. “Well, what am I gonna say? I didn’t flirt with her and she was probably just drunk but Dick broke down. And honestly I didn’t get it then, but now I do. Clearly he was carrying a torch for you. Makes sense ’cause it felt like there was more to it…you.”