An Act of Betrayal
As a mystery author, acts of betrayal are kind of my go-to jams when plotting out a book. In order for resentment to turn to rage to turn to coldblooded murder, ten will get you twenty that somewhere along the way there was some act of betrayal involved. Being a hopelessly honest and loyal person myself, I’m always a little shocked at the breadth and scope of these acts; from something as minor as breaking up with someone over the phone without explanation or reason and long past the point in a relationship where an over the telephone break-up is socially acceptable all the way to framing one of your oldest friends for a crime you committed because you are actually a serial killer….there is a rich reserve of human betrayal from which to craft infinite stories.
But why do we do it? And more importantly, why do we do it to people about whom we profess to care??
Nothing rips the rug right out from under you like knowing someone you love betrayed your trust in them. And honestly, nothing pisses me off more. Maybe that’s why I’ve used it as a plot device so often.
You see, I have a nearly endless fuse. When I say it takes a lot for me to genuinely lose my temper at someone, I mean, it can take years of abuse, resentment, and neglect for me to finally explode. But there is one thing that will burn that fuse of mine at record speed, and that’s knowing I’ve been lied to and my trust was misused. Bammo. Full nuclear meltdown.
In that moment, when my eyes black over with rage, every insecurity of mine vanishes, and I will tell someone exactly how I feel–something that if you’ve been reading my blog, you know that I am loathed to do most of the time. In that moment, I’ll call you a dickhead and tell you to fuck all the way off because I honestly don’t care what the result is. I am done. In other words, you’re dead to me.
Not being a killer myself, I, of course, mean that metaphorically, but it’s that emotion that I’ve used to commit all these fun fictional crimes for Q to solve all these years. That moment when love turns to hate and you just want someone gone from your life for good. Like me, most people just block the asshole in question on social media, fire off a few angry text messages, and go blissfully about their day knowing that they said their piece and that’s that. But a few broken personalities will snap, and those personalities are the gooey dark center at the core of all my novels.
Because I want my main ensemble characters to be likable, they are like me in that they don’t betray each others’ trust. They don’t tell other people’s secrets. They don’t cheat. They don’t lie about their intentions. And they always own up to their mistakes when they hurt someone and try to make it right, even if it’s inconvenient, even if they’re busy, even if they’re in the middle of solving a murder, they’ll hit the pause button and drive over to fix it in person. The people in their lives matter to them more than deadlines or even dead bodies.
Take Derek Sharp. Is he an egomaniacal, narcissistic man-whore? Yes, it’s part of his charm. But is he honest about it? To a fault. He doesn’t get involved in long-term relationships and throw around words like ‘love.’ He’s honest about who he is and what he wants and he always checks in with his partners to make sure they’re on board with the situation and know what they’re getting into.
This is why, despite all his flaws, he’s so fucking lovable. Lovable to the point that Q almost sleeps with him in Until the Devil Weeps. It’s why she forgives him in Devil Take Me Down. Derek is exactly who he says he is. He doesn’t lie about it. He gives as much as he’s able to give. No more. No less. And he always gets out before anyone gets hurt.
Aaron Sanger is a little more complicated because he does actually lie about his intentions for a good portion of the series, a few drunken slips in Hebrew aside. But his lies are to prevent a betrayal. No matter how much he loves Q, he would never ever betray their friendship or Ben’s trust and act on it. This is also why he loses his shit at Q when she ends their relationship so brutally because he would never hurt her like that. She means too much to him.
His fuse is like mine–modeled on mine actually. Long and impossibly patient and kind. It burns slow because he understands people are flawed and people make mistakes and forgiveness is healing. But an act of betrayal by someone he trusted more than anyone else in the world? Well, that sends him all the way over the edge.
He turns cold and hollow. He says things that he probably wouldn’t if he wasn’t so angry and hurt by it. And honestly, y’all probably aren’t going to like him much for a lot of these last two books. Because it’s scary to see a kind and understanding person turn into a rage monster…even more so if you’re the target of that rage monster’s fire. Since the books are told from Q’s point of view, it’s uncomfortable to feel that hurt and anger, especially since I know I’ve dished out that level of rage a couple of times in my life.
But Q understands why. She understands that she did something you should never do to someone you love. Something that she had never done before: she betrayed her best friend out of expedience and selfishness. She could have been honest with him and told him the real reason she was ending their relationship, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She couldn’t face Sanger’s hurt or his judgement. Most of all, she didn’t want Sanger to think she was a bad person. Ironically, by not wanting to be the bad guy, she absolutely becomes the bad guy.
And that’s where making it right comes in. Even though it might cost her everything, Q wants to make it right. She wants to fix it. She wants to undo the hurt she inflicted so Sanger can move forward and not spiral down into a void of resentment and bitterness. So they can salvage their friendship even if their romance is over. That’s why she’s a good person and we can forgive her that one terrible sin.
As the series comes to a close, I’m rather relieved to leave betrayal behind me for a while and explore other motivations and plot devices. I hate hurting people as much as I hate it when people hurt me. That’s why I actively avoid doing so. But sometimes you have to stand up for what is right and demand better. We can’t all be as honest and forthcoming as Derek Sharp and show our intentions to the world. But the world would be a magical place if we could.