MALLORY
It was the last day of the fair. The investigation into Sarah’s death was underway.
I needed to do something about Derek, and do it fast. He had to leave town and take me with him.
Up and go. I was ready. My heart fluttered at the thought that I would go with him to San Francisco.
Or, honestly, wherever he chose to go first.
That Sunday, before work, I drove up to his place. His car was in the driveway, so I pulled in.
Derek wasn’t in a good mood.
“What’s up?” he asked in the curt tone I didn’t like.
“Nothing. Going to work. Today is the last day of the fair.”
“Yeah, and rumor has it, Sarah’s sheriff daddy is in town. The local chief is looking for me.”
I felt a knot in my stomach. “We have to leave town, then.”
He cocked a brow at me. “Oh, yeah?”
“You wanted to go to San Francisco? Me too. We can drive off in two cars. I can sell mine somewhere out of town.”
My old car wasn’t worth much, but if we were to travel together, we didn’t need two cars.
Derek walked up to me, wrapped his arms around me, his hooded gaze on me. I loved it when he looked at me like that. “You have any cash on you?” he asked.
Such a vibe killer. “Maybe?” I teased.
He picked me up and carried me to the bedroom. Ten minutes later, he was already getting dressed. Then he picked up my purse and rummaged inside it.
“What are you doing?” I snapped.
“We need cash, Mal. We’ll stop out of town and I’ll get some from the bank. Right now, I have to buy some things for the road.”
He suddenly froze and looked at me, the cash from my purse already in his hand. “Unless…unless you changed your mind? If you don’t want to go west, you don’t have to.”
Panic suddenly swamped me. “It’s all right,” I blurted. “I’m going. Of course, I’m going!”
He winked at me.
What I didn’t expect pulling out of Derek’s driveway later was to see a familiar car approaching—Al’s.
That bitch.
I pressed on the gas, driving off, but Al’s car followed, honking like mad, keeping up for several blocks. I was running away, I realized, though I was at my man’s house, and Al had no business to be.
I sharply swerved to the curb and parked, then got out of the car at the same time Al got out of hers behind me.
“You bitch!” she screamed, flying up to me. “What are you doing at his house? He told you he didn’t want you.”
She stood chest to chest with me, glaring, her face distorted into an ugly mask.
Oh, no, she wasn’t going to play the same old Birdie-move-over-you-are-not-worthy card.
I knew she was lying. Suddenly, I realized that she was the one getting sloppy seconds after me, probably begging Derek to stick around. Probably telling him lies about me.
I saw red. I used to tremble at her nasty remarks about me. Now I was shaking with rage.
“I was visiting my man,” I snapped. “What’s your problem now?”
“Your man?” She laughed, but her face remained grim. “Are you delusional or what? He would never touch you even if someone paid him! You are stalking him. You are pathetic. You are—”
“You are delusional, Al,” I interrupted her.
“He said you were constantly calling him, bugging him, trying to get in his bed. That you were worthless in bed, and he had to use double condoms to make sure he didn’t pick up STDs from you.
Did you out of pity, too, because you thought you were hot shit, and he felt bad. ”
She gaped at me in shock. “You… You are…”
See, she wasn’t used to me talking like this. Talking back, period. She was at a loss for words, and for the first time, I gloated at the power I had over her.
“He would never touch you,” she said, though not so confidently now.
“Oh, yeah? Did he show you my panties that he kept?” I smiled spitefully. “My vest that he wouldn’t give me back because he wanted something of mine? Or my travel-size perfume in his bathroom?”
Yes, I left it there on purpose. Mostly because Al knew that it was mine.
She gaped at me in disbelief. She wasn’t the same. There was a weird desperation about her these days. She also seemed drunk, and that was a bad way to be in the early afternoon.
“No,” she breathed. “You are lying,” I mocked her, saying the phrase at the same time as her.
I laughed. That was always her response to anything I told her. This time, it was my turn.
“How about the birthmark on his inner thigh?” I continued. “Yeah? How do you think I know?”
Because she knew it too, I was sure.
“Look who grew claws, you skank,” she hissed. “Are you getting around now?”
“Learning from the best,” I quipped and raised my chin. “Do you think you are special, Al?” I taunted. “You are not. Did Derek tell you he’s going to San Francisco?”
“Yes,” she replied too quickly.
“Well, so am I. We are going together.”
Her eyes widened like those of a cow. I could see she tried to come up with an answer. Her lips opened to say something, but nothing came out. I’d won. And this was an epic win.
“You are lying,” she repeated. “You are insane.”
I almost laughed in her face. “Did I ever tell you how much I hate you?”
Before she could answer, I spun around and got in my car. She ran up, stuck her face in my window. “You are a whore! Go back to your trailer-trash house and pack your belongings into trash bags. I bet you don’t own a suitcase.” She always had to get the last word.
I curled my hands around the steering wheel, trying really hard not to respond.
“Don’t forget to shower. You stink of garbage,” she continued, her voice getting louder and hysterical. “Is Derek picking you up at the junkyard? Are you introducing him to your alcoholic parents? Having family dinner?”
Every phrase was like a stab. But I was used to those. You can get used to being called trash. Being trash. Living like trash. What I couldn’t get used to was someone like Al threatening to show my worst side to the man who was ready to save me from this town.
I had anger in spades, and I was going to use it. The time for payback had come.