Page 7 of Mean One

“Drugging the head of Whoreville’s finest? Classy,” she laughed while I stuffed the bag back into its hiding spot.

“What about you? Why are you still slinging drinks down here if you’re reporting? Need someone to fill your position? I wouldn’t mind bartending, you know?” I was envious of her job—fuck, all, really, wishing I had anything instead of my current one. Sadly, it was all I could find. After what happened, no one in this town trusted me.

“Having the infamous May-Martha serving drinks would bring in more business,” she chuckled. “But, unfortunately, I got bills to pay. Reporting for that newspaper and writing articles may seem promising, but they only pay so much. A real hit or miss.”

“I hear that. Gus has every other person here terrified to visit me. He doesn’t exactly like the idea of sharing. Don’t get me wrong, he pays well, but playing favorites isn’t exactly good for business.”

“Gus has been possessive of you for as long as I can remember. Especially with that Grouch.”

This was the moment. “Hey, speaking of—just curious, but back in the day, did you ever interact with the—” I stopped, hating the words that were about to come out of my mouth. “The Grouch?”

“The Grouch?” Her brows pressed inward as she tried to think. “Can’t say I have. Outside of my friends, the only person I really interacted with was…” Her words trailed off, her eyes focusing on a deep thought as she began to pour me a shot of whiskey.

“Who? Who, Cindy?” I pressed.

“Ah, no one. I mean, we were kids and it was years ago. It probably has nothing to do with him. It’s nothing worth bringing up.” She bent down, messing with things beneath the bar.

“Maybe, but…I’ve come to warn you, Cindy.”

“Warn me?” She scoffed, sitting up with a glass in her hand as I leaned in close.

“The Grouch. He’s…he’s killed. Again. Only this time, it seems your words really set him off. He didn’t like what you wrote about him in the paper, and now, he’s coming for you.”

Her face froze as the color slowly drained from it.

“Me? Over the article quoting his mother? Seriously?” She slammed the cup down, shattering the base. “Fuck,” she groaned. Cindy began to clean up the broken glass. “My dad warned me to stay out of journalism. I should’ve listened, followed in his footsteps and worked at the fucking post office just like he wanted!” She froze, wiping her forehead. “What am I going to do, May?” I could feel the fear in her voice.

“I’ll let you know when I figure that out myself.” I picked up the shot glass, shooting the whiskey as it burned my throat.

“Yourself? Did he threaten you too?” she asked. I nodded.

“The night they found that couple in the street outside the brothel? Well, turns out, he left me a note.” I pulled the bloodstained paper from my coat, slapping it onto the bar before she picked it up and read it. “I think I might’ve even seen him watching from the shadows across the way.” I grabbed the bottle of whiskey, pouring myself a second shot.

“No shit? Is he as frightening as they say? I mean, we all knew him as kids, you more than anyone else, but that was ages ago.” I took the second shot, pouring myself a third as she watched me with a raised brow.

“Don’t know. I only saw his eyes. But there was this eerie, familiar cackle I recognized, this almost child-like laughter, except when hearing it, it shot a shiver down my spine. It was the strangest, creepiest thing.” Cindy watched me as I rubbed my temples, trying to forget.

“Max,” she whispered beneath her breath.

Max?

The name sounded familiar, but Cindy’s expression told me there was more to the story.

“Who’s Max?” I drank the third shot, slamming the glass onto the bar with a groan.

“She was this kid we went to school with, but she was younger than us. She had copper-colored hair and green eyes, dark freckled skin, striking features. She was always following people around, searching for a friend. But she was weird as fuck, May. She would always pick fights with the bigger kids, begging them to hit her and stuff. And when they did, she’d laugh through it all with that creepy-ass cackle. I’ll never forget the sound. I’ll admit, I may have bullied her from time to time, but May, the girl was fucking crazy. I remember one day, me and some friends were pushing her around whenheshowed up. He threatened to hurt us if we didn’t leave her alone. He scared the shit out of me then; I can only imagine how he looks now. After that, he and Max seemed to have this…thingwhere she followed him around like a lovesick puppy, always hovering and hanging off him at school. And he just let her, even though he looked miserable the whole time. I’m surprised you don’t remember her. Truthfully, I always thought he would snap one day and hurt her, but he never did. I guess since she liked him, she was the one person he didn’t hate. Well, besides you, of course.”

Faint memories of her flashed across my mind. I’d seen her prancing around him at school, but I tried to keep my distance around the other kids. “After what happened when we last saw each other, I’m sure he hates me more than anyone else.”

Cindy scoffed at my words.

But why Max?

“Not more than Gus,” she taunted. “I’ve never seen two people hate each other more than them.” I shot her a look as she quickly changed back to the previous subject. “The day the Grouch took off, after everything happened, I remembered seeing Max. She wandered off into the woods and never came back. I guess she must’ve followed him and has been living up there with him ever since. Shit, those two are probably up in that cave of his, keeping each other company, as we speak.” I shuddered at the idea of them together. “Look, I’ll try to be careful. But May, if anyone should be scared of that monster, it’s you. You broke him. You and Gus.” Cindy patted my hand. “I would be extra cautious if Max really is involved with him. She’s psycho, May. If she’s anything like the child she once was, you’re fucked. The only thing she cares about is him, and you, my friend, are the only person in her way of having him all to herself.”

I exhaled, my spine tingling, as if someone was watching me. I scanned the bar, searching every face, but to no avail. I wasn’t sure what was happening, but I couldn’t shake the feeling.

“I think I need a stronger drink.”

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