Page 61 of Bad Mother

Sienna ended the call just as there was a soft rap on the bedroom door. “Come in,” she called.

Mirabelle peeked her head in. “I’m going to get going, honey. You make sure to prioritize your rest, okay? The world needs you at your best.”

Sienna stood and went to the door, frowning when she saw that Mirabelle looked paler than she’d been, bright-red spots on her cheeks. “Are you okay? You look flushed.”

“Oh yes. I’m fine. Just a little warm.” She smiled, grabbing Sienna’s hands and squeezing them. “You’ve always been a daughter to me,” she said, her voice breathless with sudden emotion. “Even when you were gone. Now... well, I’m so glad you’re back. So glad.” She gave Sienna’s hands another squeeze and then turned away, hurrying for the front door.

Sienna watched her open it and leave as Gavin came up next to her. “Was your mom okay?” she asked. “She sure did come and go in a hurry.”

“I think she wanted to give us time alone,” he said, pulling her close. Sienna smiled, giving him a quick kiss.

“I wish I could spend the rest of the day with you,” she said. “But my off day is canceled. I have to get back to work.” Her mind returned to Kat’s phone call.And the newest note.“Our killer isn’t done yet,” she said. Of course... she’d known that was the case, but God, she’d hoped she was wrong.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

School ended, and I tried my best to put everything that had happened during my high school years behind me. I got a new job with a new company. I worked hard, rarely using the entirety of my breaks, never checking my phone or goofing off the way the other employees who worked with me did, and soon, I received a promotion. I kept my head down and did nothing to draw negative attention to myself. My father had taught me well.

A promotion meant more money, and more money meant more nutritious food. I even had a little extra to pay for a gym membership. I had always been tall, but now I grew in mass too. I began to notice women giving me furtive glances or fixing their hair the way I’d seen them doing when they were talking to popular guys in school. But now they did it with me.

I was still gun shy, though, when it came to women. I’d found a sort of peace, and I welcomed it. I had my job. My bosses praised me. I had a home where I felt safe. Finally.

That autumn, a new girl started at one of my places of employment. She had dark-red hair and eyes almost as blue as Mother’s. I called her Dolly in my head because her skin was as pale and flawless as a porcelain doll. She was very petite, but she had large breasts that overwhelmedher frame. Though I tried to be as discreet as possible, I had a hard time not staring at them each time she passed my way, and I think she noticed because after a while, she would stop and chat, arching her back slightly and smiling a knowing smile when my gaze naturally strayed downward.

We’d been working together for about a month when Dolly finally said one day, “Why don’t you ask me out? I know you want to.”

I felt the heat creeping up my neck but tried my best to appear casual and only mildly interested. Inside, though, my heart was racing, and I wasn’t sure if she was right or wrong.DidI want to ask her out? I enjoyed our chats. I looked forward to seeing her at work. I’d even practiced flirting with her just a little—or at least what I hoped was flirting—and thought it’d gone well. It made me feel more confident. It helped mute the reminder of the humiliating failure of the one and only date I’d ever been on with Smiles. Dolly was much more forward than Smiles, though, and she took my hand and placed it on her large breast, watching me as I swallowed and grew ever redder in the face. She laughed, dropping my hand and saying, “I’ll be ready after work.” And then she turned, blowing me a kiss over her shoulder as she returned to her post.

I could hardly focus on my work, and the next few hours saw more mistakes and fumbles than I’d made at my job since I started. Another employee asked me twice if I was feeling okay, and I told him I felt mildly ill but that I’d be fine.

Part of me hoped Dolly was only kidding about our after-work date and that when I saw her next, she’d make an excuse and beg off. I didn’t see her for the rest of the day, though, and when my shift was over, I decided to leave without seeking her out because at that point I really did feel nauseated, my heart was still beating far too quickly, and my hands were sweating. But when I walked out the back door, Dolly was leaning against my car, a saucy smile on her face as she waited for me.

My heart beat ever faster and I felt light-headed. Dolly didn’t seem to notice, though, even offering to drive my car, which had once belonged to my father but now was mine.

She drove us to a bar, and though neither of us were of legal drinking age, no one there seemed to care. I was thankful for the low lighting, hoping that it hid my flushed skin and the blotches that had surely formed on my neck, as they tended to do when I became anxious or worked up. Dolly ordered a beer and I did, too, and though I had never really drunk alcohol other than to try it from the stash Father had kept in our kitchen cupboard, I found the effects were just what I needed to calm my system.

I drank one, then two, and ordered a third. But I was far outmatched in the drinking arena, and Dolly not only quickly surpassed the number of beers I’d had but was also doing shots with a guy at the bar each time she placed another order. Pretty soon, her eyes were red and half-closed, and her words were slurring together. “Dance with me!” she insisted, pulling me out onto the mostly empty dance floor and pressing herself against me. Despite the alcohol in my system, my breath came short again, sweat breaking out on my brow. She wrapped her arms around my neck, her breasts large, soft pillows against my chest, and I grew hard. Dolly, obviously feeling my arousal, purred, sloppily grinding her body against mine. At her brazen touch, the anxiety poured through me like battery acid, but I forced myself not to step back, out of her grasp. She stumbled slightly, missing a step, and then laughed, falling against me and saying, “Take me home, baby.”

I was so aroused it hurt at that point. So I let her lead me out the door to the car, where I took the wheel, and she turned up the music, blasting it so loud I couldn’t hear my own thoughts and leaning perilously out the window so that I had to grab the back hem of her shirt to keep her from falling out.

Her apartment was only a few blocks from the bar, and surprisingly, she was able to direct me there, or rather yell “Stop!” when she saw it so that I screeched to a halt at the curb.

The alcohol was wearing off at this point, and my nerves had returned in full force. And not only nerves but doubt and a good dose of disgust toward her, even if my body hadn’t yet gotten the memo, the bulge in my pants pumping with blood. I haltingly followed her up the steps to her door, and she pulled me inside before slamming it behind us. She must have been unbuttoning her shirt as she climbed the steps because when she turned, it was open, and she dropped it on the floor, unclasping her bra, which fell apart, revealing two huge, round knockers, skin pulled tight, nipples pale red and seemingly too small for the breasts they inhabited. She sprang forward, planting her mouth on mine, her tongue wet and slimy as she pushed it into my mouth, her hand clasping my erection.

It was sudden and overwhelming, and vomit came rushing up my throat. I pushed her away harshly, clapping my hand over my mouth. Dolly tripped backward, catching herself on a piece of furniture, pink spots blossoming on her pale cheeks as she gritted her teeth and raised her finger, pointing it at me.

“What the fucksh is wrong with yoush anyway?” she demanded, the words slurred. “What? Are yoush a pussy? Is that it,pussy?” Rage blossomed inside me then, as sudden as the sickness that had come over me at her force and the unexpectedness of my body being invaded by hers.

It was disgusting and vile and I hadn’taskedfor that.

I stepped forward, pushing her so that she fell to the side, sprawling on the floor, half-naked and bent awkwardly. “Fucksh yoush!” she yelled, attempting to get up but falling back again, her heavy breasts impeding her ability to balance. I laughed then, a maniacal sound that exploded from my throat. The sound seemed to enrage her further,and she continued to flop around like a top-heavy seal, floundering clownishly.

I spotted a checkerboard sitting to the side of the couch and grabbed a handful of checkers, tossing them at her and watching as they bounced off her forehead and she flailed some more, her tits flopping from one side to the other, a roll of pasty flab jiggling over the waistband of her skirt as she slurred epithets at me.

“Do you likegames, Dolly?” I yelled. “You like playing your sick, twisted power games with men like me you think you can trample on? Fuckyou, Dolly.”

There was a pair of shoes by the door and I glanced at them, picturing unlacing one of the laces and using it to strangle her. I could tie her to a chair the way Mother had done to Father and Mr.Patches. I could squeeze her neck slowly, or I could do it fast. I could do it in any way I chose. I saw it again in my mind’s eye. Just pulling and pulling until her life drained out and she finally shut the fuck up. It would have been soeasy.

She was disgusting and repulsive and she shouldn’t havetouchedme like she had. No one was ever going to touch me without my permission ever again.

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