“You can knit?” I was told that my grandmother was a skilled knitter, but Mother never took it up—not that I could remember, anyway.
“Yes. My gran taught me from a young age. I used to make cardigans, scarfs, gloves, socks, anything really. It’s calming, relaxing, and I like that I can make something unique. There aren’t enough handmade things around anymore. Everything’s mass production now.”
I smiled. “You’re right, there’s not. I don’t know what I’m getting, though. Perhaps you could write a list for me?”
Her eyes lit up, causing my heart to skip a beat. “Of course. Thank you. I’ll knit you a winter hat.”
“That would be lovely, Violet, thank you. Anyway, I need to leave for work. What is for dinner tonight?”
“Lasagna and salad. Does that sound okay?”
“That sounds perfect.” I walked around the table and kissed her cheek. “Thank you for breakfast, and have a good day reading.”
“You’re welcome, and have a good day at work,” she replied, beaming at me. I nodded my head and left the room.
Saturday, July 16th (2005)
Parking in the small lot behind the self-storage place, I scanned the street opposite. Where are they? I frowned. Had I missed my chance? I hoped not. I hoped I hadn’t missed Rose and Lily simply because I hadn’t acted fast enough, but it wasn’t time before.
“Come on,” I whispered. My heart was heavy. The thought of them alone somewhere out there was awful, especially when I had a safe home and a family waiting for them. Someone stepped in front of my view and tapped on the window.
I jumped back in surprise and wound the window down. A young woman wearing very little leaned down. “Can I help you?” I asked. My voice was tighter than I intended, but I knew what she was.
She smiled and tilted her head to the side. “Do you wanna go somewhere?”
I felt sick to my stomach that she assumed I wanted anything to do with her—or any of them. Images of that woman and my father flashed through my mind. Dirty whore. “I have a wife,” I said, testing her morals.
She shrugged. “And?”
And? My lip curled and every nerve ending burst into angry flames. “Get in,” I said. There was no hesitation from her, even after my less than warm response. She strolled around the front of my car and got into the passenger side. Her cheap perfume turned my stomach.
“The forest isn’t far if you take a left at the crossroads,” she said.
I tightened my grip on the steering wheel. “I know a place,” I replied.
As I drove home, I thought about Mother. Would she feel proud that I hadn’t given up? Since her death I hadn’t been as dedicated to her cause as I should have been. I didn’t particularly want to be; this was my time to have a family and a fresh start. It was selfish of me. I was desperately unhappy being alone and wanted a family more than anything, but I couldn’t help the reaction women like her gave me. I couldn’t help the uncontrollable urge to fix it.
I pulled into my driveway ten minutes later and turned off the engine. My heart fluttered and stomach turned. I didn’t think I would be back here so soon. This wasn’t supposed to be my life now. I wasn’t so na?ve that I thought that I could turn my back on everything Mother and I had built, but I wanted something that was just for me too.
“We’re at your place?”
“Yes,” I replied. “I have a room.”
She giggled. “Sounds kinky. That’s extra, you know?”
I ignored her and got out. Where was her self-respect? She had lost it along the way. I wondered at what age she turned into a whore. More and more teenage girls were making little tarts out of themselves. It was hardly surprising why some lose their morals; it seemed to disappear with their innocence.
Leading her into the house, I pulled back the bookcase and opened the door. “Wow, you got a sex room down there? BDSM?” Ignoring her again, I gestured with my head for her to go down first, and she walked ahead without hesitation.
At the bottom of the stairs, she turned fully and saw the girls. “What the…?”
“Stand against the wall,” I ordered.
She jumped back and pressed herself into the concrete wall. “What are you going to do?” she asked. “And who are they? I don’t do that sort of thing.”
“You do not ask the questions. Close your eyes. Now.”
“No. Look, I just want to go, okay? I won’t mention whatever you’ve got going on here; it’s none of my business.”
“Close. Your. Eyes.” To my surprise, she did. “Good-bye,” I whispered and pulled the penknife out of my pocket. Her eyes flew open, and I leaped forward, plunging the knife into her gut.
An ear-piercing scream echoed through the room as one of the girls cried out. I kept my eyes on the whore, watching her slump to the floor. Letting out a sigh of relief, I turned around. “It’s done. It’s over.” My blood was singing in my veins and my body relaxed.