“What are you doing here?” I asked, moving behind the counter so I’d have something between us. “You’re not supposed to be here. There’s a restraining order…”
“Fuck the restraining order and fuck you,” he growled. He looked around the empty store with a grin on his face. “Don’t worry, sweet cheeks, I won’t stay long. I just wanted to come by and welcome you back to the real world. And to say I told you so.”
I took a step back and narrowed my eyes at him. “Fine. You’ve said it. Now go.”
“I’ll go in a minute,” he said. He picked up an energy shot from the counter and twisted off the cap. He downed the shot, put the cap back on, and set the empty bottle back on the display.
“You have to pay for that,” I said, trying to sound much braver than I felt.
“I don’t have to pay for shit,” he said. “In fact, I can come in here anytime now and get any fucking thing I want, and there’s not a goddamn thing you can do about it.”
“I’ll tell Brad.”
He mocked me. “I’ll tell Brad. Fuck Brad! Or have you already done that? Is that how you got this shitty job? By fucking good old Brad?”
I gritted my teeth. “You’re such a prick.”
He braced his fists on the counter and glared at me. “You think because you’re behind this counter I won’t come around there and beat the shit out of you?”
A cold chill settled into my spine. The muscles in my jaw he had broken flexed, as if reminding me what he was capable of. No reminder was required.
“There’s a video camera,” I said weakly, pointing to the surveillance camera mounted to the wall above my head. “You touch me and they’ll know it was you.”
“It might be worth it,” he said with a shrug. “I wouldn’t mind spending a little time in jail if it meant I got to beat the shit out of you one more time.”
“Why are you doing this?” I asked.
He frowned at the question. “Because I can, you dumb bitch.” He leaned across the counter and showed me his teeth. “Don’t you know that by now? I can do anything I want to you and there’s not a goddamn thing you can do about it. You’ll never be free of me. I will haunt you till your dying day. Hell, I might even be there when the light goes out of those pretty eyes for good. Who knows.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat and told myself not to cry. He loved making me cry.
“Please leave me alone.”
His tongue went around his lips as he smiled.
“Fine. I’ll leave you alone,” he said, starting around the counter. His hands tugged at his belt buckle.
“What are you doing?” I asked, holding out my hands.
“I’ll leave you alone, just as soon as you show me what that rich guy taught you about sucking dick.”
I backed up as far as I could and cowered on the floor. I covered my head with my arms, bracing myself for the blows I knew were about to come.
I closed my eyes.
I thought I heard the door chime.
I heard another man’s voice.
I heard Randy say fuck you.
I heard an awful crash.
I opened my eyes and looked through my arms.
I didn’t see Randy anymore.
I grabbed onto the counter and lifted myself up.
On the other side of the counter, Randy was lying on the floor.
He wasn’t moving.
Blood was flowing out of his nose and mouth.
Standing over him, rubbing his right hand, was Jackson Ritter.
He looked at me and smiled.
I smiled back, glanced once more at the blood on Randy’s face, and fainted dead away.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: Jackson
A few days after Amy Lynne left, Lizzie and I went to visit Gail at the hospital. Lizzie was thrilled to see Nurse Gail and refused to leave until we all went to have ice cream in the cafeteria.
It was a tradition for the three of us. Every few months, we’d go visit Gail, the nurse who had helped to save my baby’s life. This time, however, I had an ulterior motive for our visit. Gail knew why I was there.
While Lizzie dug into her bowl of mint chocolate chip, I casually asked Gail, “So, have you talked to Amy Lynne?”
She took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “I have,” she said with a nod. “She’s back at her old apartment and back working at the convenience store.”
“Did she give you any clue as to why she ran away?” I gave her a helpless look. “I mean, one minute we were getting along fine, and the next, well, I’m not sure what happened.”
“Randy Beck happened.” Gail made a sour face, as if his name left a bad taste in her mouth.
“Who is Randy Beck?”
“Her ex-husband.”
“What’s he got to do with it?”
Gail took another deep breath and told me all about the confrontation Amy Lynne had with her ex-husband at the Food King the day she left.