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He didn’t stick around to chat. Big Bob toddled back off into the garage, veering right and heading to his car. I knew that he wouldn’t take any work today, even if someone drove in for a simple fix. He was lazy like that — without me or some other employee, he was helpless.
I sighed at his indolence, then turned and began to walk back to my truck, making a plan as I moved. I’ll go to the house, pack up some supplies just in case, fill up the truck…
And then there she was.
My mouth went dry.
Sitting in the flat of my truck, hands dangling over the side, snarling a toothy grin in my direction. It was such a simple act of possession, hopping in without permission. It was a reminder that she could do what she wanted.
“Meghan,” I breathed.
“You miss me, baby?”
She hadn’t changed at all, even five years later. Her hand was platinum blonde, the same color as Henry’s, and hung down in long sheets around her head. Those quick blue eyes followed me, darting like a serpent’s tongue. There was something so animalistic about Meghan. She moved with her instincts, not with her mind. Squatting in the truck bed was like a dog pissing on a fire hydrant.
My arms began to shake, as though there was an isolated earthquake just beneath my feet.
“You’re supposed to be in jail,” I said, stating the obvious.
“Yeeeeup,” she said, bulging her eyes out and lolling her tongue, as though bored with the conversation already.
“Why?”
I wished my words would say what my heart wanted to — I hate you, get away, I will kill to protect my son — but I found them cemented to the back of my throat, absolutely useless. This was just a laundry list, not the real shit.
She cracked her neck to the side, small arms reaching up overhead in an exaggerated stretch.
“Good behavior, sugar,” she intoned. “Even though I know you never liked that, the good side of me. You always wanted me bad, right?”
She dropped her head over the side of the truck, half her body in the vehicle, half out. It was like watching a stoned doll execute a post-modern ballet — alternately limp and muscular, lazy but on high alert. I stayed a few feet away from the truck, close enough to hear but not so close that she could lunge without warning.
“I asked you to be good,” I said, my voice low. “So many times. But that’s not the point. I don’t believe they let you out. Did you escape?”
She laughed. “How do you manage to give me both too much and too little credit? I didn’t have to sneak out. I just charmed them. You know I can do that, be charming, when it suits me.”
Meghan rolled over so that her back was on the truck’s lip, her arms hanging behind her, head staring back at me. An inverted Jesus on the cross, I thought grimly. Satanic.
“And of course, the moment you got out—”
“I came here. Yup. Just to see you and my beloved little boy.”
“Do you even remember his name?” I said through a choked laugh.
“Henry, obviously.”
“And his middle one?”
Her eyes, gazing at me from upside down, looked askance. “Middle names aren’t important.”
Yeah, that figured. Though it didn’t surprise me, I still found the truth painful to swallow. Henry’s own mother didn’t remember his middle name, and not because she had memory loss — truly just because she didn’t care.
“How’d you find me?”
This was probably the only important question, because it’d help me figure out how to never be found again. Because, now that I knew she was here, the likelihood that I would need to run was becoming ever higher.
In a quick movement, she flipped back over and hopped out of the cab of the truck so that she was standing before me. Meghan was just over five feet tall, a tiny figure who was deceptively strong. I knew because I’d experienced the velocity of glasses she’d thrown at my head. She was wearing a ripped tank top and yoga pants, which didn’t strike me as a particularly terrifying outfit. It was weird, after all this time, to know how fucking evil she was, and to still see the same meager looking woman before me. It was as though the world around me refused to align with my brain.
“I’m getting bored of fifty questions,” she sighed, strutting up to me. I took two steps back. “But I’ll answer if you stand still.”
Shit. I didn’t want to let Meghan get any closer to me, but I also couldn’t afford to repeat my mistakes.
“Fine,” I agreed, standing my ground.
Meghan, as anticipated, moved closer to me, getting as much in my face as she could from so far below.
“Carter,” she breathed, her words scented like fresh, biting peppermint. “It’s been so long.”
