“Come on, Sidney. I have other sources apart from Laura. And several of the articles about my mother’s death mentioned his presence at the scene. Of course I know his name.”
“Oh.”
“Tell me about him,” he says. Like this is just a friendly chat we’re having. “Or I could just meet him. Your choice.”
“We broke up.”
He snorts. “Sidney…”
“It’s the truth.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Yes.” I put as much venom into the word as possible. “And it’s your fault. He dumped me because he couldn’t handle the constant fucking pressure. From the police and the media…all because of you.”
For a moment he stares at me. Then his slow, creepy, horror movie smile reappears. “Hmm. Can’t say I am sorry or surprised to hear it. And don’t be in such a rush to put it all on me. Youknow full well you can be a difficult person to be around. Is it any wonder I had to find an outlet for my frustrations?”
“Are you seriously blaming being a serial killer on me?”
“I’m just saying you had a role to play in all of this. Not that I expect you to admit it. The capacity you have for denial…”
“You actually believe that, don’t you? That I’m one of the reasons you chose to kill people.”
“Like I said…you’re not ready to be totally honest with yourself yet. I think your grandmother went way too easy on you when you were growing up. Treating you like such a poor little orphan.”
“Fuck you, Ryan.”
He taps his fingers on the top of the sofa. “This is what I’m talking about. You’re still not ready to leave behind the victim mentality and embrace the possibilities of what you could be.”
“Are you serious?” I ask with all the wonder. “How about you? Are you mad about Mommy?”
“Can you believe how badly she fucked up killing your cousin?” He shakes his head. “How hard is it to frame someone for murder? I mean, seriously. What a clusterfuck. Not watching long enough to make sure you were alone. Then being stupid enough to leave a cell phone data trail that led straight back to her.”
“But you’re not upset about how she died?”
“She wanted to go out with a bang, I guess.” He cocks his head. “Did you expect me to cry?”
“No.”
He grunts again.
“You’re bleeding,” I say, nodding to the scratch on his cheek.
He frowns and reaches for a tissue from the box on the coffee table. Then he carefully dabs at his face. My ex always had an ego. How he appeared mattered, and that hasn’t changed. I am glad Maggie marked him, and I hope he’s left with a scar. Eventhough the woman made some bad choices, she didn’t deserve this. Perhaps I can empathize more easily with her since we were in similar situations. Both of us believing, for a time at least, in the pretty lies he told us. Which reminds me.
“You told me once that the scratches on your arms were from me during sex.”
“And you believed me.”
I cross my arms over my chest and hold on tight. “I was an idiot.”
“Yeah. Those were the good old days.” He looks me over. “Still can’t believe you cut your hair.”
“Why are you here, Ryan?”
He stands and I take a quick step back. One of the dining table chairs nudges me in the butt. His slow smile spreading across his face is the worst thing I’ve ever seen. “I don’t want to hurt you, Sidney. But I will if you make a move.”
“You don’t want to hurt me?” I ask with disbelief.
