Lost Boy
“Fuck you. I hate you,” I seethe, spitting in his face.
The backhand to my cheek causes pain to explode up my face, knocking me off my feet to the floor, inches from the puddle of vomit. My tooth pierces my lip. Copper liquid fills my mouth, dribbling to my chin.
“Dramatic much?” he snarls, rubbing the back of his arms over his face to wipe the saliva away.
“You’re as crazy as he is.”
Dropping to his haunches, he grabs my throat, making me squeal. Lifting me to my feet, he pins me to the back wall, my back smarting from the impact. “I’m not crazy,” he growls. Strong fingers grip hard, pushing against my windpipe. “I’m real fucking lucid.”
Releasing me with as much strength as he used to pin me, I stumble. He runs his hands through his hair as I slide down the wall, massaging my throat to alleviate the ache, each inhale burning like lava. “What now? You’re going to kill me? What’s your end game?” My voice is raw, broken. “How did you know I was his daughter? I didn’t even know.”
Tipping his face to the ceiling, he says, “I think you didn’t want to know is more accurate. It wasn’t hard to figure out. Once I started digging for information on him, it all came together pretty easily. Guess who was high school sweethearts?”
My mother?
“Your mama was from Hollywell, did you know that? Jack’s wasn’t.”
Jack’s wasn’t? Why did I not know that? I didn’t look into any of it, I just believed what I was told.
He moves to the bed, pulling out the box he stuffed under there when I first arrived. Taking the lid off, he empties the contents to the mattress. Images of me flutter to the duvet, followed by newspaper clippings like the ones I keep, files, books. My breathing stutters seeing his collection of my life splayed before me.
He picks up what looks like a yearbook and flips through it, grinning when he finds the page he wants. Tapping his finger on the image, he shoves it at my face. “Your mother—before the name change of course.” He goes back to his collection, swiping up a piece of paper. “Quick internet search on marriage and divorce records—and boom, your mother again. God, this shit was too fucking easy. It’s kind of pathetic you didn’t figure it out for yourself.” He throws his hands up before letting them slap against his thighs on their descent.
“I thought we were collateral damage, unlucky to be friends with Jack and his mother,” I breathe. It had been the other way around.
“Your grandmother was killed the same day as your mother—did you ever wonder why, how?” His tone is mocking, humor layering each word. Bastard. I didn’t know I had a grandmother or that she was killed. How does he know this, and I don’t? You never asked. You never wanted to know. You didn’t want the truth. Why didn’t my aunt tell me?
“It didn’t take much to find out, flash of fake credentials about an article I was writing had everyone singing. People won’t admit it, but they like that Willis made their crappy town famous.” He picks up a file and waves it in my face. “A lot of files are open to the public. It just took looking in the right places. By the look of her autopsy, your Grandmother was tortured. It’s no doubt how Willis got your address. It’s why your aunt lives like a frightened little mouse. She’s terrified he’ll come back here and cut her up next. You weren’t the collateral damage—they were.” There’s a smug arrogance about him I’ve never seen before. How can he be so different? Was it all an act?
“She’ll be relieved then, when she learns he’s never coming back. He's dead. Jack killed him,” I remind him.
Blanching, he shakes his head. “What did you say?”
“Oh, you didn’t know? I thought you knew everything,” I sneer, swiping at the blood on my lips. I feel ill learning I had a grandmother Willis also claimed the life of. My poor aunt, raising me after everything that was taken from her because of me…
Grabbing me by the neck of my shirt, he slams me into the wall once more. “Who killed him?”
“Jack killed him,” I groan, my head spinning.
“That’s why he hasn’t come for us,” he whispers, the news chinking a piece from his armor. “Because Jack fucking killed him?”
“Willis didn’t even know we existed,” I mock, dropping my head, exhaustion depleting me of strength.
“What do you think all of this was for?” he bellows. “To show him we do!”
I’d rather die than ever let that man think of me as his child. Jack…poor Jack. Everything he thought to be true isn’t. It never was. His world has been altered forever by me.