The Dark Light of Day Page 92

“Not so fast, Miss Abby.” He glanced around the room. “It’s been a while since I’ve been in here. Matter of fact, last time I was here I was having a lovely conversation about you, with your Nan.”

When had he ever been in this house with Nan?

“What the fuck did you do to her?”

“Nothing. I just talked to her.” His face was troubled, like he couldn’t understand why I’d be concerned. “I came to see you that day, but you weren’t here. Your Nan was kind enough to make me some tea. She was so nice to me. She just talked and talked. And somewhere in the middle, she let it slip that the house was in foreclosure. She knew she wouldn’t have anywhere for you two to live but didn’t want to rain on your parade, what with graduation coming up so soon, so she kept it from you. She wasn’t going to be able to take care of you. I couldn’t let that happen.” He smiled, as if he thought I’d be happy to hear all of this. “I watched you every day after your Nan died, looking out for you, protecting you. I even let you stay in that junkyard so you could get a taste of how it felt to sleep among the trash before I came to your rescue. It killed me to do this, but I called social services. I needed you to see how desperate things would be for you without help. From me.”

Owen took a step toward me, his twisted concern turning to anger. “Then, Jake fucking Dunn swooped into town and played the hero. And what did you do, Abby? You jumped right into his apartment and into his fucking bed.”

Owen pressed the barrel of the gun against my chest forcing me to step back with each jab until I was pressed against the wall.

“It should have been me - not him...not fucking Junkyard Jake. We had one night...one amazing night on the beach together.” I almost threw up when he said that. My stomach twisted. “I’ve done what I was supposed to since then, what you told my mother you wanted. I’ve stayed away, no, I’ve been kept away-from you all these years against my fucking will. What happens next? That fucking white trash junkyard dog blows back into town again, right back into your life after years of not giving a shit about you. Now, he’s going to raise my fucking daughter? I don’t fucking think so, Abby.”

My head was spinning. “Why, Owen? What did I ever do to you to make you hate me so much?”

“Hate you?” Owen laughed. It sounded surprised and confused and darkly delighted. “I don’t hate you, Abby. Don’t you get it yet? I fucking love you!” I felt the growl of his voice vibrate though the shotgun barrel pushing into my chest. “I fucking love you. Me. Not him.”

He was so sick, so deranged.

Please stay asleep, Georgia. Please just stay asleep, baby. I sent my silent plea down the hall to where she slept.

Owen took a breath, gaining some composure. His voice evened out. “After all the trouble I went through to get you, you fucking owe me.”

“What trouble did you ever go to for me, Owen?” I spoke quietly, more in hopes of keeping Georgia from coming out of her room than anything. “What did you ever do for me that was truly for me?”

“Everything. I did everything.” He leaned in closer, and I saw in more detail the black circles under his eyes, how unshaven he was. He wasn’t just drunk this time. A powdery white residue clung to the underside of his nose. Owen sniffed, and his right nostril oozed blood. He wiped it on the back of his hand, smearing it onto his cheek. He didn’t flinch when he saw the red streaks of blood. His pupils were dilated, and his head restlessly shook and turned with each word. “I did everything, starting with your Nan.”

Nan...

“Meth labs explode all the time, you know. It wasn’t even that hard to get your Nan to say yes to making a last minute trip to that trailer in the woods. All I had to do was tell her the people living in there were poor and starving and in desperate need of her help. She headed right over with a basket full of shit. I watched her go. She was so determined, like she really was on her way to a rescue.” He laughed. “It was fucking pathetic. She was so goddamned gullible.”

My heart froze to hear him speak so coldly about her.

“It wasn’t even hard to make the damn trailer explode. Those meth kitchens usually wind up doing it on their own anyway. They’re like ticking time bombs. The tricky part was getting the detonator to cooperate, getting it to explode just as she knocked on the door.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “When that fucker went up, you couldn’t tell body parts from trailer parts.”

“You killed my grandmother because... because you wanted me to fucking live with you?” I spat.

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