I can hear the fear in her voice.
She knows I don’t call her late at night unless something is wrong.
Very wrong.
“Can I come to Gran’s? I need to see you,” I say. “I should’ve just come straight there, I’m sorry. Everything... everything is ruined. Everything has blown up. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to breathe...”
“Oh, my girl. I need you to take a few deep breaths and tell me what happened,” she says, soft, and the warmth of it calms me just a touch. “Do I need to come get you?”
I take a few steadying breaths.
My keys are still in the ignition, headlights spilling color into the storm raging down. “I’m at the gas station near the interstate. I just needed a minute.”
“Do you want to tell me what went down?”
“Travis... Travis has a daughter.”
Her silence tells me she is as shocked as I am.
A moment or two passes. “Oh, honey. I didn’t... I’m sorry.”
I tell her everything, and when I’m done, my shoulders slump and tears roll down my cheeks.
“Come to me, sweetheart. I’ll help you. We’ll get through this, I promise you.”
“Okay,” I whisper. “I will head your way now. I should be there in a few hours.”
“I’ll keep the porch light on,” she says. “But please—drive carefully, baby. There’s a band of storms, it’s bad out. Don’t push it, if you need me to get you, I will.”
“Yeah, I know.” My face is wet, cheek pressed to the steering wheel. I close my eyes so tight it hurts. “I’ll be careful, Mom.”
I want to crawl back through the phone, into those arms from when I was younger and storms made me shake. But I’m grown, and this is my mess. I hang up before I can change my mind or say something I’ll regret. I don’t move for a long time. There’s this metallic tang in my mouth, the taste of another secret, one I’ll never be able to swallow.
Eventually the dashboard flashes a fuel warning and that’s enough to pull me upright. I wipe my face, blow my nose with a napkin from the glove box, and roll myself out into the night. There is a gas station about five miles ahead. I’ll clean myself up, get some water and coffee, and try and make it to Gran’s place without having a complete breakdown.
My phone hasn’t stopped ringing, and the second I pull up, I turn it off.
I can’t deal with that right now.
I can’t deal with any of it.
Turning the car off, I get out, my legs jelly. The air presses into me like a lead weight, sharp in my nostrils, rainwaterpooling at my boots, pavement slick beneath me. The highway is quiet and empty beyond the neon buzz of the station sign; I’m alone, save for that electronic humming. I grip the pump handle, the numbers flickering, then blur as hot tears flood my cheeks. I shove the nozzle back into its cradle just as headlights split the darkness.
A black SUV glides to a halt, engine purring. It is parked right next to my car, not at another pump. It’s as if I know, even before I turn and stare, that something bad is about to happen. My entire body stiffens, my skin prickles and the whole world feels like it comes to a stop. The driver’s window winds down. I see a ring flash under the glare, catch sight of a gaunt face—a very familiar one, at that. Jeremy, leaning forward, all lean angles and predatory grace. He’s so thin these days, cheekbones carved in shadow, but his smile is the same evil emptiness that terrifies me.
Our eyes lock.
My hand drifts to the car door, ready to launch in, but I’m not quick enough. His hand moves, a smooth, fluid motion, and a gun appears, black and cold as the night. He cocks it; the click reverberates in my skull. I freeze, senses stripped naked. No prayers, no cries—my breath just vanishes. I am animal, pure instinct and raging heartbeats.
He fires.
The blast isn’t thunderous, it’s an internal crack, like a bone snapping. Pain detonates in my chest, distant and searing simultaneously. My knees give out; I collapse onto the cold, wet pavement, the sting of rain lacing with the fire blooming in my torso. The SUV skids away, into the darkness as if it never existed.
I don’t know if I’m screaming, but I know my mouth is open.
My ears are ringing.
My hands go to the wound, as if I can do anything to stop the bleeding. Blood wells beneath my fingers, hot and sticky. My vision narrows to a tunnel of warmth and light. Above, the station bulbs buzz like trapped insects. I don’t feel pain, it’s as if it lasted just a second before it went away. Now, all I can feel is the cold drops of rain on my skin and the pavement beneath my back, cool and wet.