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Chapter Thirteen
After a tense car ride where I refused to say a single word to Troy, he’d tried to come inside.
I’d let him know I’d had more than enough of his company for one day before promptly kicking him out.
I was sick of men of every sort.
They kept showing up and fucking over my entire life, and so far only one had even been kind enough to give me some orgasms out of it.
The one who never showed up when he was needed, who came and went like a damn ghost. Right,thatwas the good one?
I plopped on the couch after heating up a frozen meal. Just me, a rather large glass of wine and microwavable mac and cheese. Maybe it wasn’t glamorous, but it wasmine.A normal, not weird supernatural life.
I flicked the TV on, wanting to erase the day with some well-deserved vegging out. The world wasn’t going to fall apart in the next twelve hours, which meant I’d earned a night of horrible food, alcohol and no thinking.
I switched it to reruns of a show where overzealous moms puts their kids into talent shows.
I loved the show because it was one time when I didn’t feel so bad about not having a mom. Sure, I didn’t get the whole stable foundation, but at least I hadn’t ended up dressed like an aging pop-star lip-syncing a song about strippers when I was six.
Silver linings were important.
Of course, that had me thinking, as it often did, about my past.
I glanced down at the white marks on my arms and remembered how Melinda had been thrown across the room.
What if my parents had given me up to protect me? What if they were running from something and they wanted me safe?
Yeah, but throwing a kid out on her own without only some tattoos to guide her is a pretty shitty way to go about it.
Which led me back to where it always did—nowhere.
I had no answers. Whether they were loving people trying their best or junkies who had no business with a kid didn’t really matter, did it? How did it change anything about my lifenow?
I took a bite of the mac and cheese, amazed how in a single bite I could have slightly frozen bits and others that burnt my tongue.Impressive.
Still, I chewed and swallowed it, pretending it was the best thing I’d ever eaten.
The show flickered, then moved to a breaking news image.
Why does god hate me? All I want is my trash TV. Haven’t I earned this?
An anchorwoman appeared on the screen, a blonde woman with a respectable white blouse buttoned up, the sort who was conservative enough to not offend Grandma but pretty enough to make Grandpa think of the good old days when he might have scored with such awoman. She had a coffee cup on the desk and a pile of papers, but she stared at the camera instead. “Sorry to interrupt our previously scheduled shows. The following report contains graphic descriptions of violence, so please consider having young viewers leave the room.”
The words sent a chill through me. That wasneverthe start to good news. It was never ‘please have the kids leave the room so we can show off the cutest kitten in the whole world!’
After a moment, the woman nodded, as if sure anyone who wanted to send their kids had. “Police are currently in the Oak Heights area where they have discovered a grisly scene. When walking, a local man found a body. Upon further investigation, six other victims were located in the same area. We now go to Tammy at the scene.”
The newsroom disappeared and a new woman came up, a microphone in her hand and her face paler than most TV news reporters were. She spoke with that same nondescript accent, though her words wavered every once in a while. “I’m here with lead detective Harvey Cane. What can you tell us?”
The detective turned his gaze between the camera and the reporter as though he wasn’t sure where to look. “We have six victims we know of. We can’t release their identities until the next-of-kin are notified.”
The reporter broke in. “Can you tell us anything about the cause of death? Or the time?”
“We believe all were killed here, and they were connected. We will need an autopsy before we can give an accurate time or cause of death, but at the moment, it appears to be a matter of severe blunt-force trauma.”
My stomach rolled. Blunt-force trauma? So not a werewolf, not a vampire. Could this be a run-of-the-mill human killer?
How lucky would that be? For some crazy serial killer to be at fault. At least that wouldn’t be my problem.
