Page 1 of Bad Intentions

1

JOSIE

I hope I don’t have to use the pepper spray that I keep hidden in my parka pocket. I’ve never used it on anybody before, but who knows what tonight might bring?

I don’t know how I feel about the shadowy silhouette of a man in the distance. The stranger who knows a lot of secrets, or so he said when he first messaged me two days ago. He said he’d tell me everything. About my family’s past. About the crime that rocked this town twenty-five years ago. More importantly, about my father—something that no one talks about, definitely not my grandma. Neither did my mom when she was alive, though I was too young to remember much anyway.

“Those secrets killed her,” my grandma said harshly one time when she got angry with me for questioning her.

Grandma never gets angry. Not anymore.

This man is supposed to tell me all the secrets about this sad, gray town that’s my temporary home. Again. As if I never left.

And now he is here, walking on the other side of the deserted road by the fairgrounds, which are closed for the season.

I can’t see through the darkness. It’s cold and miserable, and there are hardly any streetlights on this side of town. The rain started twenty minutes ago. It’s a downpour now, turning the man’s shadow into a distorted blur.

But it has to be him. It looks like he’s on the phone.

I curl my freezing toes inside my boots and raise my shoulders to my ears, shivering as I squint through the rain at the dark figure in the distance, marching toward me. The tree I’m standing under doesn’t protect me from the downpour. Its spring leafage is too scarce. I should’ve brought an umbrella. My parka is soaking wet. Despite my hood, my hair is plastered to my face, the rain dripping down my nose. My soaked jeans cling to my thighs, which are prickly from cold.

In the text message, the man told me to park in the lot by the fairgrounds fence and walk toward Fair Road and the speed-limit sign closest to the lot.

“Not to draw suspicion,” he explained.

I didn’t ask why. This town’s past is suspicious, and he promised to tell the truth about what really went down twenty-five years ago. Hence this dark and deserted location.

I should’ve told someone I was coming here, but the pepper spray in my parka pocket is reassuring. I’m twenty-four, but despite living in the city for the last six years, I grew up here, and I know how to defend myself from creeps. Small country towns are full of predators—bears, raccoons, men with questionable morals. This man didn’t want to be around people. Could he be a predator? Doesn’t make sense. Digging into this town and my grandma’s past is too time-consuming for someone to try to lure in a girl like me. But you can never be too careful.

The closer he gets—only a shadow on the other side of the road—the more nervous I get, excitement twisting in my stomach, mixing with slight panic.

I wipe my wet nose with the back of my hand, shifting impatiently from foot to foot.

No way we are walking, like he said we would. We are getting in the car and driving somewhere dry, where we can sit, in the light, preferably with other people around. He said, “No other people,” but screw that. I don’t know him. This seemed like an okay idea an hour ago, but the closer he gets, the more nervous I become.

There he is, crossing the road, confidently and in no hurry, like the downpour is no biggie. Looks like he’s still on the phone, and he raises one arm and waves to me. I start to wave back, but a sudden loud sound distracts me.

I didn’t notice the car until I hear its roar. Someone guns the engine, and in a matter of seconds, it is suddenly so close that it startles me.

No headlights, no warning. Just⁠—

BAM!

The sound is dull. There’s a texture to it as the dark, beastly shadow of the car connects with the shadow of the man. He flies in the air, rolls over the car as it speeds away, and tumbles onto the ground.

I inhale sharply and hold my breath, my mouth open.

My heart stops.

Time stills.

It’s suddenly quiet again, except for the pouring rain hissing and slurping against the pavement.

The darkness is sinister. Horror washes over me like thick goo, paralyzing and deafening.

The man, reduced to a dark heap, lies in the middle of the road, so still that dread coils inside me.

No. Nonononono. No.