1 | NOW – MERA
1
NOW – MERA
C limbing out of the taxi, I aimlessly hand the man my card, listening to the distant beep as he taps it. I’m not focusing on him; instead, my eyes are trained at the town before me, the streets lined with people, the bustling place that was once the home of my worst nightmares.
I didn’t want to come back here—hell, I would have spent the rest of my life running—but I knew it wasn’t going to help me move forward. Ten years later, and this place still makes my blood run cold. My therapist told me the only way to accept the past is to go back and answer the questions that remain unanswered.
Ten years ago, to the day, I was packed up in a police car as my father was arrested, and I never looked back. I could never face the people in this town when they found out he was a murderer, a brutal killer. It’s a fact that I still haven’t accepted, and I’m certain I never will.
But it’s time for answers, answers that I don’t necessarily want, but I know I need.
My life is at a standstill, and I can’t move forward. My memories cripple me, and my thoughts are all consuming. The only way I will ever find happiness is to find out what happened in this town ten years ago. I never got answers as to why my father did what he did, nor did I see him again. I ran, and I continued running until, finally, it all caught up to me.
This town holds deep secrets, and I’m here to find out what they are.
“Is that all?” the cab driver calls as I pull my suitcase from the back seat, my brain in a daze.
“Yes, thank you,” I say, swallowing the lump in my throat.
Nobody in this town would remember me, right?
I disappeared and never looked back.
That doesn’t stop the crushing fear in my chest that this is all a mistake.
It’s not like I don’t stand out; I’m as pale as the stark clouds in the sky and my hair is a deep red, so vibrant that it is like a beacon, calling people to me. My eyes, the exact same as his, are as blue as the sky. I’ve been told by so many that I am a rare beauty, the kind that is so often unseen. I struggle to see that, because every time I look in the mirror, all I see is him.
His prison is a mere half an hour up the road, a place I hope to never see, but I fear my questions may lead me there.
I need to know what really happened to my mother.
I need to know why he did what he did.
I have so many things I need answers for.
Shuffling down the sidewalk, I move toward a café, bustling with the morning rush. The café that my father and I used to come to every Sunday for breakfast. It has new owners now, and it has been so long I’m quite confident nobody here will recognize me. Hell, the old lady who ran it passed away two years ago so I have no doubt it is full of new staff.
Stomach grumbling, I rub my hand over it. I’m starving and in desperate need of a coffee. Dragging my suitcase behind me, the wheels clatter over the sidewalk as I approach the door. Hesitantly, I push the door open and am confronted with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods. The café is abuzz with the murmur of conversation, and it seems nobody notices my entrance.
I breathe, just a little.
Maybe this will be okay after all.
My eyes roam the large space as I wait in line, and memories flash through my mind. Memories of the laughter my father and I shared, of the warm runny eggs and hot tea I always got. It was a happy time during my childhood, but I can’t help the way my chest clenches as I wonder if every good memory I hold dear was nothing but a lie.
The bell behind me chimes, and I glance over my shoulder to see a trio of women coming into the café, their chatter filling the peaceful space. My body immediately stiffens as recognition floods me. I know those faces. Those are the faces of my high school bullies. It was bad enough that they picked on me relentlessly, but the fact that they are still here, still clinging to each other, is like a nightmare come true.
The sharp gaze of Esmerelda, always the group leader, pins me, and her mouth drops open. She knows me, and I see the moment that recognition dawns on the remaining two by her side, Charlotte and Harriet. I turn quickly, but it doesn’t stop the sound of their whispers and gasps as they come to terms with the fact that I am here, in town.
My quiet entrance isn’t going to be so quiet after all.
My heart pounds as I step up to the counter and quietly order a coffee, praying they say nothing and wondering how I can escape this place without a confrontation. The very second I step aside, Esmerelda steps up to me, her expression a mix of curiosity and the same smug look she carried around when we were younger.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't Mera Sloane," Esmerelda announces, her voice carrying an edge that draws the attention of nearby patrons. "We were certain you left town for good. What brings you back?"
I fight to maintain composure, swallowing down a sassy response. I’m not here to cause trouble, I’m here for answers, and starting something with her right now will just draw unwanted attention.
“Visiting,” I say, my voice calm, my back straight as I refuse to allow her to have it over me the way she did before.
Charlotte snickers. “Visiting, huh? You should know that nobody around here wants to see your face after what your father did.”
I clench my jaw, pinning her with my gaze. I might have been quiet and fragile back then, but now, I’m done being pushed around. "Why I’m here is none of your fucking business, now back up.”
Harriet tilts her head, a feigned innocence in her tone. "Now, now, Mera. We’re not here to cause you trouble. We just didn’t expect you to come back, you know, considering the mark you left on this town.”
“ I didn’t leave a god damned thing,” I say, taking a steady breath. “Now, if you’ll excuse me ...”
Esmerelda smirks, though there's a flicker of hesitation. "Well, I hope you’re not expecting to be welcomed back with open arms. People around here aren’t so forgiving, and they certainly haven’t forgotten what your father did.”
“I’m not here to be forgiven.”
Taking my coffee, I turn and leave the café before another word can be spoken.
The moment I’m outside and the warm air is tickling my skin, I close my eyes and press my back against the wall.
This isn’t going the way I planned.
I’ve been here less than half an hour, and already I want to turn and run.
I can’t though.
I made a promise to myself that I would find answers.
And I don’t break promises.
STEPPING ONTO THE FAMILIAR street, my legs feel heavy as each step takes me closer to a past I have no choice but to confront. As I near my old neighborhood, the sight of my childhood home stirs a deep feeling of fear and emotion in my chest. The house I once loved has been abandoned, lost to the elements, nobody ever having taken it over.
Nobody wanted to live in a home where a murderer spent all his time plotting to torment the entire town.
The once stark gray paint has faded and is peeling off the walls, the garden, which my father cherished, is overgrown and full of weeds and trash. I hesitate as I force myself to move closer, passing the mailbox that is broken and tilting on an angle. Graffiti lines the walls as I step onto the porch, and my stomach twists as I read the words.
Murderer.
Killer.
I don’t blame people for feeling the way that they do. My father took so many lives, and he did it in a gruesome, cruel, and awful way. If those were my family members, I too would be driven to say and do crazy things. Hell, I’m the child left behind, and lord knows I have made my fair share of mistakes.
“Mera?”
A familiar voice has me turning, my body jerking as I take in the man standing behind me. Gone is the boy I once prayed would notice me, and in his place, a man. Jace still has the same sandy blond hair and piercing blue eyes, only now he is tall, muscled, and terrifyingly beautiful.
“Jace?” I ask, my voice soft.
He steps closer, staring at me as though time has stood still and he’s trapped in an old memory. “I heard you were back; I figured this is where I’d find you.”
“Well, it didn’t take long for that to spread,” I say, my heart skipping a beat.
There goes my anonymity.
“You know Esme, she can’t keep much to herself. She would have been on her phone sharing with the entire town before you even left that café.”
I snort, but it isn’t entirely amused. “Don’t I know it.”
“What brings you back? This isn’t a place I thought you’d want to come to, after ...”
His eyes flicker, and I offer a smile, in an attempt to show him that it’s okay, he can say what he likes.
“My father’s sins aren’t my own, but there are a lot of unanswered questions. I guess I can’t move on with my life until I attempt to answer those questions.”
He nods in understanding. “Does it feel strange, coming back here after everything?”
Sighing, I glance back at the house. “Strange, yes. But weirdly, it feels as though I only left yesterday.”
“I can imagine. Where have you been all these years?”
I face him again. “I went into the system until I turned eighteen, and then I got the hell out of there. Mostly, I have been working in New York, but the big city life isn’t really for me.”
“I hear you. Listen, if it’s okay with you, I’d love to catch up more, maybe over a drink?”
My tension eases just a little. At least someone in this town isn’t going to shun me before I even get a chance to find what I’m looking for.
“You know what, that would be amazing.”
He smiles, showing me a row of perfect teeth. He was handsome when he was younger, but now, Jace is simply dazzling. I don’t know how he isn’t married with ten kids. Lord knows if I married someone that looked like him I would never leave.
“Excellent. Put your number in my phone, and we can work out a time when you’ve settled in.”
He steps up closer to me, stretching out his hand and passing me a phone. I put my number in and flush as our fingers gaze. Jace somehow manages to have the same effect on me as he did all those years ago. Gosh, I was obsessed with him. I cringe at the memories. Back then, I would have done just about anything to get him to notice me.
“I’ll leave you to it. It was amazing to see you, Mera. We never did get the chance to hang out back then, so I’m glad we do now.”
I smile. I can’t help it. “Me, too.”
Once he leaves, I turn my attention back to the house. For so long, I thought this was my happy place, now I look at it and wonder if every single moment I felt good in this house was simply a lie, a mask covering up the raw truth. Exhaling, and knowing I’ve had enough for today, I turn and walk away.
One step at a time.
That’s what my therapist told me.
Just one damn step at a time.