15
Obsessively, I check the time on my phone toknow when to announce that it’s time to leave before dark. I’ll give it another twenty minutes and then hug everyone goodbye. Considering the circumstances, I’ve stayed as far away from Gavin the Pig as possible for the last forty minutes. I look at him now and again to check where he is and what he’s doing, and twice, our eyes meet by accident. I hope he doesn’t read into that and think I’m interested in him, as the only reason I looked at him was to make sure he was nowhere near me.
While Max, Rory, Dad, Hannah, and The Pig are playing football on the beach, I can catch up with Mom. Usually, I’d be keen to join in with some rough and tumble, but it’s too risky that Gavin might touch me and pretend that he’s just fooling around.
“I really do miss you, Rae,” Mom says softly, and my heart tugs in my chest.
“I miss you too, Mom, but college is demanding, and I have a job too,” I throw my hands into the air, “Adulting is hard sometimes.”
“It’s so odd,” she says, gazing at our family laughing down on the beach, “you were never interested in plants and dirt when you were a kid. It was always the water. Every day you were in the water, either swimming, diving, surfing-”
“Bathing,” I add since I had a reputation for taking long showers and holding up the bathroom, and that was amplified after The Four destroyed me, where I felt dirty all the time.
She laughs. “Oh yes,” she pats me on the knee. You used to drive Max insane. Gosh,” she sighs, “Time flies.” She’s wearing sunglasses, but I can tell by how her nose reddens slightly that she’s tearing up.
“You’ve still got Rory,” I remind her, “and Max lives a few blocks away.”
“Yes, but-”
“Hannah seems nice,” I interrupt because I know she’s about to say something to stir guilt in my already guilt-ridden heart.
“Yes, she’s lovely. Max seems very happy with her. And you?” she squeezes my knee, “have you met anyone special yet at university?”
Cormac storms into my mind, but it’s too early to tell if he’s ‘special’ although after seeing him in Speedos, I can say that he’s got plenty of talent. “No one special yet.”
She growls, “Don’t work too hard. I worried you’d miss out on the best years of your life while training on the swim team.”
“You think the teenage years are the best years of our lives?” I ask curiously, “Because I think my best years are yet to come.”
“Oh yes, those teenage years are for having fun and experimenting,” she explains wisely.
I chuckle at her choice of words. “Experimenting? Whoa, ma. Please tell me you experimented with sex, drugs, and rock and roll in high school. I need to picture you wearing ripped denim with a blunt hanging from your mouth.”
“A what?” her fingers run over the rim of her glass.
“Blunt. Dope. Green. Mary Jane.” Her face still looks blank, and my enthusiasm for a rebellious mother solely dissipates. “Marijuana.”
“Oh, no. We used to call that grass,” she informs me, assuming I’ve never heard of the term.
I splutter. “And did you drink and smoke grass regularly?” I enquire using my best Sherlock voice.
“Well…I had a boyfriend who grew it so…”
I tip my head back, hoot in astonishment, and Mom joins in. This is the first time we’ve laughed together in…well…since before the fuckers the Pig, the Lion, and co, and then once physically healed, I moved away to my aunt’s ranch.
Thinking of Dad’s comment, “Maybe we should set a date for you to come over to Torres for a girls’ weekend. We could hit a spa, shop until our bank accounts are bare, and picnic by the lake.”
“Oh, Rae, I’d love to,” she says. She’s so genuinely pleased and grateful that I asked; unfortunately, I must go through with it. If I don’t plan something, she’ll be heartbroken. “When would be the best time?”
We’re getting ahead of ourselves, but I can’t avoid the inevitable now. “Um, so before the end of summer, I think would be the best. I’ll check my work roster.” I’m being non-committal here, but I still haven’t memorized my class schedule, and work can change from week to week.
“Marvelous,” she says, clapping her hands together. “That calls for a toast.”
“It does?” Wow, she’s making a big deal out of it. Now, I’m really screwed.
She raises her glass of Bacardi, squash, and Sprite and says, “Here’s to mothers and daughters reconnecting.”
I raise my non-alcoholic orange juice since I’m driving, although family pressure makes me want to drink. “Here’s to mothers and daughters,” we tap glasses before throwing back a gulp. My mom”s glow of happiness is evident, yet all I can think is how I will get out of this. I can’t. Those are the things I can’t do.
“I need to use the ladies,” Mom slurs, a little tipsy, and pushes her chair back, smiling from ear to ear.
Just as she disappeared inside, I checked the time on my phone and decided to leave when she returned. The rolling waves crashing against the shore are therapeutic to my ears after being in the noisy city, and if Gavin wasn’t here, I could easily relax and stay longer. It”s not that much longer, just a little longer.
Snapping my head up at the sound of footsteps ascending the wooden steps, I notice the top of Gavin’s head comes into view. I’m alone and don’t like this, so I assess the scene to anticipate my escape. He smiles at me, and I drop my head down to scroll on my phone while watching his movements under my eyelashes.
Slowly and deliberately, he steps my way and drags out a chair next to me, and parks his ass down.
“You’re not invited,” I hiss, glancing at the kitchen French doors to ensure Mom is not nearby.
He holds his hands up in surrender, and a slimy smirk worms across his face. “Have I done something wrong?”
“Don’t play dumb, Gavin,” I growl under my breath. “You know what you and the others did.”
His smarmy face creases in confusion. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. This is the first time I’ve met you, Rae.”
I shudder at him using my name. “Cut the bullshit.”
Again, he fakes confusion. “I think you have me confused with someone else. As I have said twice, I have never met you before.”
“How’s Mike Lyons? Surely, you must still be in touch with him?” I open my mouth to add to the ammunition, but Mom steps out from the French doors onto the balcony, and I clam up.
“Oh, good. You’re getting to know each other,” she states, as if her family dream is complete with me and the new guy getting together.
I just can’t stomach this anymore. “Mom, I really have to go as I have a long drive back to Torres.”
“Rae, please stay over the night,” the pleading in her voice yanks on my heart, but the sacrifice is too high. If I stayed over, I’d have to spend more time with this man sitting near me, and already vomit was surging. Every inch of him is filth dug from a mire of lies, pain, and humiliation.
I push my chair back and stand to leave. I can’t deal with this. I have to go now. “No, I need to leave. I’m sorry, Mom.” I step towards her beautiful, disappointed face, hug her, and flee inside to shield the tears of anger brewing.
“What about your brothers and Dad?” she calls after me. “You can’t leave without saying goodbye. It’s his birthday.”
“I can’t…” is all I manage to say as I arrive at the front door and out onto the deck with Mom following.
“What happened, Rae? Please.” Her voice is filled with pain, and I can’t turn back to look at her, or else she’ll see my tears, and I’ll see her anguish at having a daughter so eager to cut herself off from the family. I desperately want to say to her, It’s not my fault, Mom, it’s not my fault, I’m this way.
“I’ll phone Dad and Rory later, maybe tomorrow,” I call back, opening my car door and climbing inside, still keeping my head low. I’m aware of how rude I’m being, but the roaring emotions of anger and grief inside me are too much that I’m about to crack. If I don’t leave now, she’ll see me at my worst, and I can’t have that.
Backing down the drive, I don’t look back as my heart pounds heavily against my ribcage, and nausea swells in my gut. Sweat dribbles down my back, and tears stain my cheeks as I drive to the end of the street. The further I get from the house, the lighter I feel, but I will need a reasonable explanation for when I call later. Or maybe I won’t because if they continue to have Gavin as part of the extended family, then I’m done.
The falling sun casts an orange-silver glow across the ocean’s surface as birds flock to the trees that line the streets. My body starts to relax into the seat as I wipe the tears from my cheeks with the back of my hand. I’m still trembling, and my skin feels icy cold and prickly, even though the temperature is still warm.
Imagining planting a bullet in his head does make me feel a little better after I killed The Lion, but Gavin’s connection to my family creates a complication. But that’s for another day to plot because my head can’t handle more than one action plan.
Reaching for my bag on the passenger seat, I hunt blindly for a Kleenex to blow my snotty nose after crying like a weakling. If I’m going to be a serial killer, I need to pull my emotions together. Being pitiful and frail and crying like a child before I pull the trigger will not work. If I’m an emotional mess, I’m more likely to dissuade myself from pulling the trigger.
But in my defense, it was a shock to see Gavin standing there, and I was not prepared emotionally for it. Note to self: Internal training for the next few weeks to learn to cool and control those emotions is imperative.
I can’t find the dang Kleenex, so I pull up on the side of the road, halt the engine, and dive into my bag for a thorough look. The Kleenex packet is at the bottom of my bag, and as I drag it out, a white envelope escapes from the bag and drifts to the floor. Assuming it’s just more junk that I keep in my bag for fear that one day I’ll get stranded somewhere and need a white envelope to write my shopping list on or hit list. Ha! Joke. Yep, I see my Mom in me quite a bit, as she has a bottomless bag of everything, including the kitchen sink.
Blowing my snotty nose, I already feel better, although I’m still a little shaky. Maybe I should message Max to instruct him not to give Gavin my number or address in Torres Island. Again, I dive back into my bag, find my phone, and pause to consider my wording. No, I’ll shoot from the hip.
Me: Please don’t give my number and address to Gavin. I’m not interested.
I don’t expect him to answer immediately as he’s probably still on the beach playing football, where I should be if I were a loyal family member. Tossing the phone and other bits that fell out when I dragged the Kleenex out, I pause again at the envelope. It’s sealed, which I hadn’t initially noticed, and appears to have something inside. This is not the first time Dad has slipped an envelope of cash in my bag without me knowing. And then, when I call him to confront him about it, he plays dumb for about ten seconds before he cracks.
Financially, I’m doing well, thanks to Z and Smiler, so whatever he’s stashed away here, I will FedEx back to him. Ripping open the envelope, I’m surprised to find that it’s not cash but a single leaf of paper. Weird. This is unfamiliar, and I wonder if I accidentally picked it up from somewhere while grabbing other things.
Feeling like I’m intruding on someone’s privacy, I close the envelope again and toss it into my bag. Starting my engine up again, I’m about to put my yellow Corolla into gear, but the mysterious envelope keeps poking me in the brain. It won’t hurt if I take a peek. Besides, it might give me a clue as to who it belongs to so I can send whatever it is back to them.
I drag the single leaf of paper out of the envelope and peer curiously at it. It’s a photograph copied onto paper, and the peachy color of bare flesh is evident, making my skin crawl. What the fuck?
A naked girl spread eagle with four men surrounding her.
Their faces are deliberately blanked out, but the girl…
Her face.
My face.
The photograph falls from my hand as blood drains from my skull, rendering me weak behind the eyes. Nausea rises expectantly, and I have to open the door and vomit onto the road, hollowing out every inch of my soul.
If I ever needed extra ammunition to pursue my hitlist and turn my thoughts and plans into reality, this is it.