Page 63 of Stay Away from Him

“Make it stop, Mama,” he whimpered.

“It’s okay, baby,” Melissa said into his hair. “You’re safe. I’m not going to let him take you away from me. Just don’t look.”

Then Melissa turned and saw Carter following after her from the pier to the shore, the boards creaking under his feet.

“Oh, you’re such a good mother, aren’t you?” he said, every word dripping with contempt. That was what he was, what he’d always been—a contemptuous person. Full of anger, full of poison. “Taking a boy from his dad and then running off to fuck a criminal, that’s what good mothers do? Spreading your legs for a murderer?”

Melissa cowered away from him as he got closer, turned her body to hold Bradley as far from him as she could. Closed her eyes and squeezed her son tighter, as if to fold him into herself, this boywho grew inside her body. And she’d protect him with her body if she had to, put herself between him and danger. Carter would have to break her arms to get to him. To kill her before he pried her boy away.

There was shouting, more footsteps pounding, and then a woman—Amelia?—let loose a scream from somewhere behind Melissa, in the crowd.

“Someone stop him!”

Melissa opened her eyes again. Now Carter was on his back on the pier, still steps away from Melissa and the shore—and Thomas was on top of him. His knees on Carter’s elbows, pinning his arms to the wood slats. His hands balled into fists. And a look of absolute fury in his eyes.

“I’m not a murderer, you lying motherfucker,” he growled, and punched Carter in the head. Hard.

Melissa looked to Carter’s face and realized that Thomas must have already delivered a hit or two while her eyes were closed—his nose was already a bloody pulp, more crooked and damaged than could have been explained by a single punch to the face. Then Thomas went on hitting him—again, again, again, again. With each punch, people in the crowd at Melissa’s back let out gasps. She pressed Bradley’s face more firmly against her neck, hoping he wasn’t seeing any of this, that he’d get to the end of this terrible ordeal not knowing what had happened, not having to remember it for the rest of his life.

Thomas delivered yet another punch, a terrifying blankness in his eyes as his fist smashed down, his jaw clenched and bulging. His knuckles were bright red with blood—his and Carter’s. As he lifted his fist back into the air, cocked it, Carter let out a gasp beneath him, a wet wheeze. He was struggling to breathe. Terror iced through Melissa’s chest.

“Thomas, stop!” she yelled. “You’re killing him!”

She was jostled back and forth as bodies pressed past her to get to the pier, and then Lawrence and Toby rushed toward Thomas and threw themselves at him. Lawrence grabbed Thomas’s hand and stopped his punch, but it took both men pulling with all their might to pull Thomas off Carter.

When he came up, rearing back, Thomas’s face was red, and there was a terrifying blankness behind his eyes.

Beneath him, on the pier, Carter’s face was a bloody mangle.

And he wasn’t moving.

Transcript of Recording

Thomas:Can I ask you something?

Amelia:That’s what I’m here for.

Thomas:You’ve done work in abnormal psychology, haven’t you?

Amelia:You know I have.

Thomas:The psychopathy paper you coauthored.

Amelia:Yes. Why do you ask?

Thomas:It’s just that word.Psychopath. It’s getting thrown around a lot.

Amelia:About you.

[pause]

Amelia:What, you think I haven’t been paying attention?

Thomas:No, I know you have. It’s just…it’s embarrassing. Knowing your friends are hearing all the terrible things that are being said about you.

Amelia:I get it. Kelli Walker still seems to be on the news almost every week. She seems to enjoy the spotlight.

Thomas:I know. And it’s something she calls me.

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