Page 12 of Cruel Charming Psychos (Necessary Evils 2)

“I don’t make a habit out of remembering when the Callaways are home and when they are off gallivanting around the globe, so I can’t exactly recall specifics.”

“Surely you would be aware if they were home or not?” He scratches at the fuzz beneath his lip. “Can you recall a time when you were at the house without their presence?”

“A few times, but I’d be hard pressed to give dates. Whatever is missing, I can promise that I had nothing to do with it. The only thing I want from that family is to be left alone.”

“I’m going to be honest with you. The Callaway family has a tendency to waste the resources of the police department by sending us on wild goose chases. I can’t say for certain whether you have anything to do with the supposedly missing items, but I do know enough to tell you that if they think you have something to do with it, that’s all that matters. They will not stop until they find what they’re looking for.” He stares me down for a brief moment before continuing, “That is to say that if you know anything at all, it’s in your best interest to talk to me because God knows if they hire someone on their own accord, they won’t be as nice.”

“That almost seems like a threat.”

“I would never deliver one of those on behalf of a private citizen.” He tips his hat at me. “I’ll be seeing you around. If I have any more questions, you’ll be the first to know.”

I watch as he climbs into his car and then wait a little while longer until he reverses out of the driveway before sighing a breath of relief. When he’s out of sight, I rush into the motel room to find that it’s been torn apart. Mother stands in the doorway of the bathroom, the musky yellow light highlighting the smoke that’s clouded around her as she smokes a cigarette.

“You let them destroy this place?” I question.

“They didn’t do this,” she groans as she puts out the cigarette in a glass ashtray.

“Then who did it, because it looks like an F5 tornado ripped through the damn place.”

“You’re looking at the tornado.”

“You’re a tornado all right. A deafening storm of destruction that destroys everything you touch.” I point my finger accusingly at her. “Why would you help them?”

She takes a seat on the edge of her bed that’s been torn apart, as if in her drunken stupor, she thought there was a chance she had been sleeping on the stolen goods. “I told you a long time ago to stop messing with that family. All they do is bring pain and suffering, but you never liked listening to your mother.”

“Because she’s a fucking drunk,” I point out. “Don’t you want them to suffer for everything they’ve done?”

“You’ve already ensured that they’ve suffered enough. You killed their son. Isn’t that enough revenge for what they did to your father and me?”

“Shut the fuck up,” I warn her with the gesture of my hand. “You don’t have a clue what you’re talking about. It’s like you just say whatever you think fits the bill in any given moment. Assuming that I had anything to do with the death of that boy, why in the hell would it be under the pretense of revenge when I just found out a few months ago about this alleged tryst between Daddy and her?”

“You drive me to drink,” she says coldly. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

I hover over her, dropping my head so that I’m directly in front of her face. “Sometimes, I really consider that I would be better off. You don’t even want to be on this Earth anymore. Why in the hell did you fight so hard to keep living after the fire if you are so obsessed with being dead all the time?”

She grabs me by the wrist and rotates my arm to showcase the scars etched into my skin. “The same reason that you never finished the job.”

“Let go of me,” I seethe as I break away from her. “I might have cut myself with my own hands, but at the end of the day, the blood that seeped from these veins are because of you.”

She laughs as she stands to her feet. “I don’t care how you do it, but give that shit back to that man before he sends one of his thugs after us.”

“I didn’t steal shit!”

She cradles a cold, smoky hand against the side of my face. “You’ve been lying since the day you learned how to talk. You didn’t steal from that man just like you aren’t pregnant.”

“I’m not fucking pregnant, mother.” I push her backwards with enough force to knock her onto her ass on the mattress.

“The hormones have you all out of whack.”

Saved by the bell, my phone vibrates. It’s a message from Nick, saying that we will be going to a party for Emily’s 18thbirthday in a few days.

Of all the fires I must put out, the one with my mother is the one I want to deal with the least right now, especially because I’m on the verge of wringing her neck and making it look like she hung herself. It’s saying a lot that I’d rather go to Nick’s apartment and pretend to be falling in love with him right now, all the while knowing that he’s not going to let the Asher thing go.

* * *

I’m a paranoid woman by nature, so when I first noticed a black SUV following from a close distance, I didn’t think too much of it. Now that I’m parked on the side of the street and I think the same SUV is parked on the opposite side, my senses are tingling. I can’t help but to think back to what the officer said about the Callaways taking things into their own hands. Seems a little too soon for that, though. If the Sheriff said anything at all to Nick’s parents, it couldn’t have been long enough ago for the family to call in their goons.

Still, I opt to be careful as I exit the car. As I approach the building, I notice the front door of the SUV cracking open and make a mad dash into the building. Just as I hit the up button for the elevator, the doors sling open as a tall, black-haired woman exits. I get into the elevator and repeatedly tap the close doors button until they draw to a close.

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