Page 22 of Renegade

“Well, well. Seems like someone deserves a bottle of champagne for all her hard work today.” Dr. Mulloy popped up beside me just as I was locking up my office for the night and I jumped.

I swear that woman needed a bell around her neck.

I nodded and swung my purse up onto my shoulder. “Yeah, you’re gonna love Elizabeth. She’s smart and has a lot of enthusiasm, which is perfect since we’re surrounded by children all day.”

She nodded and walked with me to the back door. “Honey, I hired the best so that, in turn, she could hire the best. I’m proud of you, Lauren.”

Dr. Mulloy held her key fob up to the panel until it beeped, unlocking the back door. She held it open for me with her hip and I walked out, still in shock from her compliments. At first, I was certain that the evening sun was playing tricks on my eyes, but when I blinked, the person was still standing on the sidewalk near both of our vehicles.

Monica.

In my addled state, I tried telling myself that it was pure coincidence, but deep down I knew better. There was no reason for her to be in Texas. No reason, but me.

“Hey, Doc. Why don’t you head on home? I’ll see if I can help this woman.”

I knew I had to act quickly before Monica introduced herself and cost me my job. While she looked much healthier than the last time I’d seen her, there was still a roughness there. Her teeth were blackened with decay from years of meth use and her once beautiful blonde hair was matted and thinning in areas.

Dr. Mulloy eyed her skeptically and whispered, “I think we might want to call the cops to help her out. She’s filthy and probably carrying a weapon. How did she get all the way over into this part of town?”

Wow.

She really thought that homeless people only congregated in one area. It was simply another reminder that she was painfully out of touch with the real world. I bet if she knew half the stuff I’d encountered while living with Monica, she’d try to have my apartment moved to the ‘other side of town.’

I patted her arm reassuringly before all but pushing her into the tiny sports car she adored. “I got this. File it under office manager duties. See you tomorrow!”

She agreed, but gave me a confused stare as she backed out of her parking spot and drove away.

I exhaled slowly.

One down, one to go.

“What can I do for you, Monica?” If it was money she wanted, she’d come to the wrong place. My paycheck had only lasted until rent was due.

She wrapped her arms around herself to ward off the slight chill in the air. It wasn’t really cold, but she needed more than the lightweight t-shirt she had on. “Hey, pumpkin. You’re looking good—got yourself a job and everything.”

I pursed my lips. “How’d you find me?”

I’d been so careful…at least I thought.

Monica pointed to the building. “You’re on the Facebook—I just searched your old email address and up popped this picture of my little girl. I saw the new last name and just knew that you’d done it. You married the old guy. Congrats!”

She’d said it all so earnestly that I found myself biting my cheek to keep from laughing at the absurdity of her reasoning, while simultaneously kicking myself for getting roped into managing the social media accounts for the office.I’d known that it was risky, hadn’t I?But I somehow convinced myself that the last name was enough.

Why hadn’t I used my work email to sign up for a Facebook account?

How was it that Monica could remember the email address I got in high school when she couldn’t even remember to keep me fed growing up?

I scanned the deserted parking lot, searching for something to say. She’d stolen from me—from us—the last time I saw her. She’d used us to satisfy her addiction. We were nothing more than a means to an end.

I held my chin high and faced her again. “The last time I saw you I ended up losing my graduation gifts. What makes you think that I would want to see you again, Monica?”

She stared down at the ground, completely silent.

I continued, “You left me in that run-down duplex, while you went off and got high. If it hadn’t been for Josué’s suspicion that all was not well at home, I’d have been raped—if not worse. He took me in and how did you repay him? By stealing. How can you live with yourself?”

With a slight tremble, she reached out to me before reconsidering and pulling her hands back. “I know I hurt you…repeatedly. I was low back then and the drugs consumed my every waking thought. I found a good rehab center in Denver and checked myself in. Part of my recovery is me making amends for the wrongs I’ve caused. That’s why I’m here, Lauren. I don’t want anything from you.”

She held her hand out again and opened it just enough for the silver chain to slip through. I gasped in shock. It was my necklace.

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