Chapter 3: The Rodgers
Jenna hadn't been hunting since her wedding to Christopher. She had wanted to of course but she'd made a vow to him---which none of the wedding guests had understood---that she couldn't break now. And he helped curb her cravings for the hunt in any way he could think of. Any chance to have sex with Christopher was a welcome distraction.
And he didn't mind; he'd gotten the hunting bug almost as bad as she had. Christopher had retired from hunting, though. He was needed on the force. His friends counted on him; he had quickly become one of the best officers in the precinct. All the things he'd learned in his short time as a hunter had given him some much-needed perspective.
The pair were sitting at their newly purchased kitchen table. Jenna was watching some chicken fingers roast steadily in the toaster oven. Christopher was reading the newspaper. It was a Saturday---one of the first they'd had off together in a few weeks---and the sun glared through the curtains. A bright spot on the table drew Jenna's eyes away from the food.
She hadn't seen Lindsay since her wedding. It had been a long time. They'd texted and video chatted frequently. Lindsay made sure of it. Jenna didn't need reminders, though. Her friend's escapades were enough to set Jenna's visions and nerves on edge.
"Is there anything good in there?" she asked.
Christopher glanced over the paper at her vacant expression. "No hunts, if that's what you mean," he replied.
Damn it, Jenna thought. In truth, she hadn't wanted to know. If she never asked then she wasn't tempted. But she always harbored a secret desire to know.
"That's not what I meant," Jenna said. "Are there any good police reports?"
Christopher chuckled. He had in fact read one that was pretty funny. He knew Jenna wanted to hunt but he was confident that she'd keep her promise. So he said, "Only idiots."
Jenna's gaze drifted to the window. The toaster oven dinged. She stood and walked to the counter, slipping on a purple oven mitt so she could grab the hot plate. They were used to idiots. Christopher had countless stories from work that were so idiotic it was frustrating. But she didn't mind. Jenna looped a finger through her red hair and began to twirl it nervously.
Idiots were easier to read about than seeing Lindsay in a vision any day.