Chapter One
EVE
Present Day
Everything you need to know about life can be boiled down to one bad week. One bad day, if you’re not careful. They say the Jeremiah Williams abduction case was the biggest atrocity to hit Jackson, Wyoming in the last century. They say I’m lucky to be alive, and standing where I am.
The years following the trial didn’t feel lucky.
Living in a small town meant all eyes were on me.
Momma even had to pull me out of school and get private tutors, on account of the harassment.
But, as time drifted on, so did the people.
The Williams family scowled at me, while my supporters offered sympathy. Mostly, everyone’s neutral now.
Life has a way of going back to normal. That’s how Douglas McCavern put it.
And I’m happy to put my past behind me. To forget the horrors of what happened.
I lived to fight another day. Better. Stronger.
Tougher. My week of hell shaped me into who I am, but it doesn’t define who I’ll be.
As time goes on, I’m even managing to rebuild.
I’ve made new friends, and once in a while, even a relationship.
High school relationships don’t mean much anyway. It’s just good to know that the world has stopped seeing me as a weak little thing, scarred and broken, never to recover.
“Eve, I’m home,” Momma calls through the house, trying to shuffle four fake Gucci bags through our narrow doorway all at once.
“Hey, Momma,” I call from the living room, a few feet away. I grab the TV remote, lower the volume, and jump to my feet. “How was Vegas?”
“It was the most wonderful time, baby. The most wonderful. Vegas is such a beautiful city,” Momma replies, puffing and panting, before dropping her bags at the door. She enters the living room, and greets me with a hug and a kiss on the forehead. She’s exhausted. The bags under her eyes have bags.
Another wild party.
She goes on these adventures of hers a few times a year, returning with the same glazed-over expression. Since I’m in college, Momma’s more open to leaving me on my own. A few days of peace and quiet don’t hurt.
“There were some real characters at the hotel.” She’s all dolled up in a nice, red, summery dress with white flowers running along it.
Her hair’s done up in a messy bun, but her makeup is pristine.
“We were up and down the Strip all week. I barely got any sleep at all.” She lets out a snorting giggle, and collapses into the sofa.
I can tell by the way she’s fidgeting with her hands that she’s itching to get a story out. Juicy gossip is my momma’s forte. Either she’s swindled some old rat into dating her, or some crazy, drugged-up adventure she went on.
“What did you get up to?” I bite the bullet and ask. It’ll be an earful. But, she’s my momma, so I’ve got to listen. No one else ever does.
“I got married,” she says, extending her hand to me. Lo and behold, there’s a golden ring with a diamond the size of a marble sticking out of it.
“You got what?” I had to have misheard her. The ring’s probably fake. She’s teasing me.
“I got married.” She taps the sofa beside her. I plop onto it, bewildered.
Married? My momma? To some Vegas douchebag? It’s impossible and probably true all at once. Knowing her, it’s some kind of con. Get married for the ring, only to pawn it off for enough cash to get her next score.
Yeah, that’s what she’d do.
“A little cliché, don’t you think?” I can’t join in her excitement. It’s ludicrous.
“He’s an incredible man,” Momma says, ignoring my comment. “Rugged and handsome. A little rough around the edges, but a sweet pea at heart.”
“How long have you two known each other?” Our dynamic doesn’t change. Momma’s brash and crazy, while I sit back and try to talk sense into her. This time, no remorse appears on her face. I see no doubt about her decision. It’s hard to get lost in this fantasy when she’s only been gone six days.
Please God, let it be the drugs still hanging in her system.
“His name’s Anthony Thorne. We saw each other from across a room and our lives were destined to entangle.”
She means sex. That’s always what she means when she starts talking in riddles.
“That doesn’t mean you had to get married,” I reply.
“Sure it does. We’re the perfect fit, both physically and emotionally, if you get what I mean.” Momma chuckles, driving her elbow into my arm.
“Is he from Jackson? And you were both just in Vegas at the same time?” I ask. So many questions, so much confusion.
The whole situation leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. Unless I’m overthinking it, it was just a drunken night spent together, which turned into a Vegas wedding. That wouldn’t surprise me. Momma’s got a way of wrapping men around her little finger.
“Jackson? No. This cruel shithole’s a thing of the past, baby-girl,” Momma replies. “We’re moving to Austin, Texas.”
“Texas? What about college?” My eyes nearly shoot out of my skull.
“We’ll enroll you into Austin University.
” She looks confused, like she can’t understand why I’m not over the moon about this.
Maybe she has a point. When I was younger, I’d have dropped everything and run at the first opportunity, but the years have been kind to me. At least, as good as they could be.
“Look, baby, this is gonna be good for us. Tony’s a good man, with a good heart. He’s already eager to help you.” Momma starts stroking my arm reassuringly.
“The last person eager to help, while you were out, is behind bars for kidnapping and…” I can’t bring myself to say the last part. The mere thought alone starts to suffocate me.
“You’re a big girl now, it’s not gonna be like that,” Momma sighs, her face sinking. I touched a nerve. “It’s a way for us to start over somewhere new,” she adds. She looks depressed. The sort of mood I usually see on the tail-end of a binge, when the harsh realities of life start kicking in again.
“He’s gonna pay your tuition,” Momma says as if that’s some kind of boon. “He’s willing to help. That’s my Tony.”
My Tony. What does that even mean? They’ve known each other for a week. In Vegas. Then it hits me like a freight train.
It’s easier to play along and pretend. This Tony guy will realize the mistake he’s made and annul the wedding before we get anywhere close to Texas.
“You know what, Momma?”
She is ready for an earful from me. She is putting on a brave face, but with a hint of devastation. There wouldn’t be much fight in her if I dished out a verbal walloping.
“You’re right,” I say. “This is a way for us to escape the past and all the bullshit that came with it.” I extend a hand, mimicking an arm-brushing action. I force a bright, beaming smile from ear to ear.
“I knew you’d come around, baby-girl,” Momma squeals, pulling me to my feet with her. She starts bouncing up and down, blissfully ignorant of my intentions.
It’s not as if I want to see her hurt. But. I shouldn’t have to uproot my whole life on one of her whims either.
“When are we going?” I ask when she settles down, collapsing back into the sofa. She’s already glued to the TV, ready to snooze after watching some terrible game shows.
“Next week,” Momma says, releasing a tremendous yawn.
A full week? More than enough time for an annulment. All I’ve gotta do is stay patient and watch it all play out.
***
The week comes and goes, and not once do I find my mother in a bad mood. The closest she comes is during some rom-com. Momma gets upset watching them play with each other’s feelings.
Neither she nor Tony are backing down.
One week, and a five-hour plane ride, later, we touch down in Austin. From the minute we land, I wish I’d spent my last week fighting, instead of hoping for their relationship to fail.
Because hope is only another catalyst to pain.