But hadn’t Randall seemed the same when I first met him? He’d given me a job at his tavern without even making me fill out a job application. He’d given me a roof over my head. He’d laughed and smiled and teased all those hours at work. He’d kissed me like I was made of glass – making me feel special for the first time ever.
And then he had shown me who he really was.
What made Penn any different from Randall? Was it because I had met him in a hardware store instead of a bar? Was it because he was obviously younger than Randall had ever been when I knew him? Age really seemed to have nothing to do with a person’s affinity for cruelty. I was certain Randall would have been the same devil were the clocks to rewind five or even ten years.
And I’d promised myself – promised myself – not to buy into the first impression (or the second or third or fourth) given off by any man who should cross my path in the future. Yet the first time a cute guy asked me out, I’d melted in about two seconds flat. It should have been embarrassing, and more so, it should have been scary.
But maybe Kate had been right. Maybe my instincts had made the call for me. Penn didn’t have even a hint of anything opportunistic or creepy about him, and at this point in my life, I was a fucking expert at picking up on those vibes. I’d known the curious truckers from the deviant ones almost instantly. I’d sensed the danger of staying at that crappy motel before really knowing quite why it wasn’t safe. Maybe the years of abuse had given me some type of superpower. I could now begin my new life as a crime-fighting heroine, gifted with the unflinching ability to spot creeps from miles away. And I owed it all to Randall and his unforgiving fists.
Tim’s face shot through my mind then, and I shuddered. I wasn’t sure how, but I had always known that Tim was even worse than Randall. He was capable of darker things. He craved darker things. And he hated me.
Tim wouldn’t give up. Unlike Randall, Tim’s psychopathic, violence-hungry drive had always seemed to be operating on full power, without any triggering stimulus needed. Randall’s rage rush would have eventually petered out. He would have, at some point, assumed us dead and gladly reunited with his couch and his beer cans.
Granted, they were both shockingly deplorable. But Randall was dead. No matter what his particular temperament, he would be leaving Murphy and I alone for all eternity.
Tim was very much alive – a sick, demented, unstoppable go-getter who had committed to one thing and one thing alone: finding his dead brother’s ex-girlfriend and making her pay in the severest manner he possibly could.
Tim would torture me – I was positive – long before he ever put me out of my misery. And he was out there right now, hunting me down.
Tim didn’t consider Murphy to be mine. In his mind, Murphy was Randall’s, and after Randall’s passing, Murphy was Tim’s. Tim would happily raise Murphy up to be not just a woman-beating asshole who found his greatest happiness in a cold can of Coors, but so much more. Whatever disease made Tim’s mind find so much pleasure in deranged acts of violence – he would try to fill Murphy’s innocent little head with the same.
That was what he ultimately wanted. He wanted a dead Valerie and ownership of his brother’s child.
You know he’s coming. Go to your silly party. Laugh and drink and dance. Tim is still coming, and when he finds you, the fun will be over.
“Anne? Earth to Anne Johnson. Did you hear me?” Kate’s kind voice broke through the walls of my mental anguish.
“Hm?” I responded absently, running a hand softly over Murphy’s shaggy blond hair.
“What time is he picking you up?” Kate asked, apparently not for the first time. She wasn’t going to like the answer to this one.
“I’m taking the bus,” I said with an attempt at nonchalance that even I didn’t buy.
“The bus? What kind of – okay, I’ve changed my opinion. Penn’s a jerk. Who in the hell tells a girl to take a bus to their first date?” The rage on Kate’s face was instant.
“No! No, he didn’t tell me to take a bus. He wanted to drive me. I just,” I waved a hand in the air with frustration, “I wasn’t really ready for him to know that I lived... where I live.” Kate owns three storefronts on the block and the apartments above them. She lives in the one above the hardware store and she spent a lot of time (and money) remodeling it. Her apartment is beautiful.
My apartment is... clean, not to mention free. Kate had insisted that I deserved my own place, even though I still spent the majority of my time at the store or her apartment. There was nothing actually wrong with “my place”, and it was only two storefronts down from Kate’s – right over a coffee shop. It just wasn’t something I could imagine myself proudly showing Penn on our first date. Or ever, maybe. And I certainly wasn’t ready for Murphy to be a known factor in my life. I had no shame whatsoever about my beautiful little boy, but I was intensely protective of him for obvious reasons. I needed to know that a person deserved to even be on Murphy’s radar before they were granted the actual privilege of meeting him.
“Anne, do you even know the bus schedules from here to Denver?” Kate was staring at me like I’d completely lost my mind.
“No, but, how hard can a bus schedule be? I’ve dealt with a lot of them, remember?” I retorted defensively, sliding into a game of peek-a-boo with Murphy to distract myself. His little green eyes popped with excitement every time my face magically appeared from behind my hands.
“Well, Anne, it can be pretty hard when you consider that Corydon doesn’t even have a bus stop to begin with. The closest one is in Central Creek, and the buses that stop there are few and far between.”
Shit.
“Well, there you have it, folks. I can’t go. It was meant to be – er, wasn’t.” I kept my voice light and carefree, swooping Murphy up into my arms. “I’m gonna take him home and give him a bath.”
“Oh no, Valerie Anne. You are not getting out of this one. You don’t want to go, and it’s for all the wrong reasons. You can take my truck. It may not be pretty, but it’s sturdy, and a heck of a lot less hassle than trying to catch an imaginary bus,” Kate said firmly, wagging a finger at me in a parental way that almost made me giggle.
“Do I have a curfew, Mom?” I gave a mock pout and huff.
“Yes. You come home when the damn party is over, and not a minute sooner!” Kate was laughing now, which made Murphy laugh as well. In spite of everything he’d been through, Murphy was nothing but a ray of sunshine 95% of the time. I’d gotten lucky with him.
You’re lucky you got away with him, you mean.
I shook the thought off. There would be plenty of time later to terrorize myself with thoughts of Tim and what he would do to me if he found me.
When he finds you.
Right now, I had to practice walking three inches above my comfort level.
The drive, in and of itself, was a nightmare. I was completely unfamiliar with the interstates, overpasses, freeways – I felt like I’d entered a concrete labyrinth created in the depths of hell. I definitely drove slower than the cars flying all around me, and I received more than a few middle fingers as a result.
The chaos was a good distraction, however, and my anxiety over the party had nearly disappeared completely in the mess of traffic. It wasn’t until I was getting close, turning onto downtown streets, that I remembered what my original panic had been focused on.