Ghost Mortem (Bordertown Chronicle Book 1) by Gavin Masters

Author:Gavin Masters [Masters, Gavin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-11-05T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 32

Unsure where anyone else was, and unable to deal with the idea of writing an unconscionable story about a woman I respect and adore, I walked around the town for a while, feeling almost like a spirit in purgatory.

I was so mad I was just waiting to flip out on someone. I needed to get rid of my anger.

'Slut.' That's the word Raven had used in that shitty note of hers to describe Vikki. Why did that bother me so much? I've been called a slut before. By her no less. Somehow I'd been able to laugh that off. But that was high school. Now? I just don't know. Why is that word even still in circulation? I mean, why does it still carry so much weight? And why does it carry so much more stigma on women than men? That doesn’t seem fair to me. And why in the hell, by that reasoning, would women be resorting to using that word on one another like that? If you live in a world where the notion of slut comes as a kind of unfair double standard, then would it not, at least, make sense not to perpetuate that repressive double standard?

And what’s wrong with slutting about anyway? It’s just sex. Was Vikki and me sleeping together really so shameful? I wanted to brag about it to the world, if only I thought they'd really understand. I think everything about Vikki Valliant is wonderful. The only thing stopping me is that I know how damaging that would be for her reputation. God knows why. It’s not like it means she’d be any less good at her job. I mean…don’t we all fuck at some point, sooner or later? Women and men alike? We’d have no kids if we didn’t. So what’s the big deal? It all just pissed me off, and I couldn’t form a clear thought about it.

I got home even more wound-up than I'd left. Thankfully, Raven wasn’t around, so I didn't have to suppress the urge scream at and shake the ever-loving shit out of her.

I decided instead to focus on the project I’d first set out to. My dad’s reputation was shot. So too, was Vikki’s now, apparently. But what if I could get it back for both of them? What if I could still help them solve this case? No one would have to know. I could do some digging on my own. That’s what journalists do after all, right? And if I was going to do an exposé on Vikki Valliant, it wasn’t going to be about what fucking her was like. Because really, fucking her wasn’t worth a damn if we couldn't treasure it together afterwards. If I couldn’t hold her afterwards and tell her all the things I wanted to say…Well, it’s different, I guess, when you love someone, and you can’t tell her. If I was going to do an exposé on Vikki Valliant, it was going to be the story about how she finally blew open the Nefarious Darius copycat murders.

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