Ugly Young Thing

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Ugly Young Thing Page 12

by Jennifer Jaynes


  At that point, he gave up and scrambled back to his car.

  He wondered where the other kid had been . . . if he’d been watching him the entire time.

  He shivered at the thought.

  He tried to imagine what people would say about him if he got caught. Cable television was now riddled with true crime shows. Shows featuring killers much like him. Fathers, sons, brothers, athletes, military leaders, the perpetually reserved, the flamboyant. These were people who had the same types of urges as he did. People who didn’t know any other way to quiet those urges. People who fit perfectly into their communities until they were found out.

  Inconsequential people were often interviewed on the news networks. “I always kept my eye on that one,” a lot of them would say. But in actuality, they probably never kept an eye on him. Never even noticed him that much, really. People didn’t notice much at all these days. They were too occupied with themselves.

  The reporter’s next words chilled him to the bone: “The sheriff’s department says a composite sketch of the suspect is under way . . .”

  His blood ran cold. He gripped the armchair.

  CHAPTER 31

  SHE STOOD IN front of him, her eyes icy. Like everyone else in town, she’d seen the news reports. She wanted to know if he had anything to do with the woman’s murder.

  “Of course not,” he lied.

  She studied him, weighing his words.

  “Look, I wouldn’t have much respect for myself if I were to start lying to you again. So trust me, okay?” He said the next three words very slowly, his eyes wide for emphasis. “I’m . . . not . . . lying.”

  Her eyes grew small as she appraised him. He saw her analyze his jugular—to see if it was pumping harder than usual. She was searching for any telltale sign of deceit she could find.

  Unfortunately, she’d had years of practice.

  He tried to mask his anger. “But having said that, if you feel the need to know where I am 24/7, then fine. I’ll tell you,” he said with a sigh, hoping to make her feel ridiculous so she would say no. “Really. Is that what you want? Is that how you want us to be?”

  She said nothing, but he did notice her eyes soften. She was falling for it . . . again.

  “Look, we’ve come so far. Please . . . don’t doubt me now. I love you. I would never do those bad things again. It was someone else. Some small-town crazy. Not me.”

  He could see her hackles lowering. His claims were soothing her. He knew she wanted badly to believe him—and he used it for leverage. It was a skill he’d learned well over the years.

  The fine art of deception.

  He folded her into his arms and held her, breathing in the clean scent of her hair before she finally broke away from him. Then, appearing somewhat satisfied, she finally turned on her heel and walked away.

  Relieved, he watched her go.

  She believed him. What she didn’t know was that no matter what he did, she still would. No matter how suspicious she became or how much they argued, she just didn’t know how not to.

  He had always hated her for judging him. For always having to worry about what she’d think before making a decision. Fortunately, though, every time he hunted successfully his anger toward her dulled, making the relationship manageable. Most times even enjoyable. He didn’t want to be angry with her because she was the only person who had ever believed in him. The only person who had never let him down.

  The problem was, she didn’t understand a very big part of him. Not that he expected her to. He didn’t understand it himself.

  All that he knew for certain was that hunting wasn’t a choice. It was survival.

  CHAPTER 32

  LOUIS SANK BACK in his chair and cradled his coffee mug between his hands. “Miss Bitty told me what happened at the supermarket. I’m really sorry.”

  Allie kept her eyes trained on the science handouts Louis had given her. She didn’t want him to see that her face was red.

  What exactly did Miss Bitty tell him?

  Hopefully not the part about the man calling her a piece of shit. She didn’t want him to know that. Louis thought she was smart and treated her like she was someone worthwhile, someone important even. She didn’t want him to change his opinion of her. Because if he did, she was afraid she just might, too.

  “Do you want to talk about it? About what happened at the supermarket?”

  “No.”

  Realizing that Louis could see one of her bad angles, she turned her head to the window and readjusted her chair.

  That morning when she woke up, the first thought that popped into her head was Miss Bitty’s words the evening before. How she had told her that she was attractive.

  Gorgeous even.

  Hoping she’d magically see something different than what she’d always seen before, she had hurried to the mirror only to be disappointed. She looked the same as always. Borderline scary. So, as far as her looks were concerned, she was as confused as ever.

  Louis cleared his throat and laced his fingers above his head. “Allie, can I ask you a question?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Is there a reason why you always do that with your face?”

  Allie felt her face redden again.

  “What?”

  “The way you hide it. Cover it sometimes with your hair. You do it a lot with your hand, too. Do you feel as though you need to hide something?”

  “What are you talking about?” she asked, her tone incredulous, as though she had no clue what he was talking about. She shot him a dirty look and shifted in her seat (to perfect the new angle), then tucked her hair behind her ear.

  “Are you ashamed of something?”

  Yes . . . of SO many things. “No. Why?” she challenged. “Should I be?”

  “I’m just saying that you’re a beautiful girl. But even if you weren’t, there would be no reason to hide yourself.”

  There’s that word again: beautiful. WHAT are these people seeing that I am not?

  “But I’m not hiding.”

  “Okay, if you say so,” Louis said, rising. He went to the bank of windows.

  Allie watched him open a window and noticed a man in the yard hauling wood. She looked more closely and realized it was Hannah’s stepfather, Ted. She kept her eyes on the man until he disappeared around the back of the house. “What’s Mr. Hanover doing here?”

  “Miss Bitty hired him to build the new chicken coop.”

  “Chicken coop? We’re getting chickens?”

  “I would assume so if you’re getting a coop,” Louis said with a wink.

  The mudroom door opened and closed, then Ted poked his head into the kitchen. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything. Miss Bitty said I could come in and get some sweet tea.”

  “No, that’s fine. Help yourself,” Louis said. “We were just wrapping up anyway. Starting the coop today?”

  “Yep. Hopefully it’ll be done by tomorrow evening. Then I can get started on the additions to the guesthouse.” Ted’s eyes flickered to Allie. He looked away without saying a word.

  Allie frowned. He had been so nice to her at Sherwood Foods. Maybe he was just uncomfortable about the embarrassing conversation they’d had at his house. Maybe he thought she told Miss Bitty or Louis about it?

  She watched the man pour his tea and disappear outside.

  “Is there anything you want to share with me before I go?” Louis asked. “I want to listen if you do.”

  “No.”

  “Alright then.” Louis rose and began packing up. “Have your English and science reading done before our session Monday morning, okay?”

  “Yeah,” she said, staring out the window.

  Louis zipped up his backpack and hoisted it onto his shoulder. “Okay, my smart girl. I’ll see you on Monday. Have a great weekend.”

  There was that word again. Smart. Allie got butterflies in her chest.

  A few minutes after Louis left, as she was basking in the glow of his words, the door to the mudro
om swung open again.

  This time it was Miss Bitty who poked her head in.

  “Got a surprise for you, girlie,” she announced with a big smile. “Come out and see.”

  CHAPTER 33

  THE OLD WOMAN’S eyes were bright. “So what do you think? Ever have a puppy before?”

  “Uh, not really,” Allie lied, staring at the little red puppy that was squatting in the yard.

  “Well then, it’s about time you did,” Miss Bitty said, smiling broadly. “Every young lady should have a dog.”

  Allie frowned. “What? It’s . . . it’s mine?”

  “Yep. She’s all yours!”

  Allie wasn’t sure what to say. Just looking at the thing brought back horrible memories. But she didn’t want to be rude. Not after everything the old woman had done for her.

  “Thank you,” Allie said, crossing her arms and wondering what the hell she was going to do with it.

  Bitty squatted down to pet her. “Isn’t she cute?”

  Allie smiled weakly.

  “I saw the poor thing barely dodge a truck on Main Street. When I stopped to get her, I saw that there was one that looked just like her dead in the ditch. A little male puppy. Poor thing never had a chance.”

  The puppy wobbled toward her, sniffing. She was an odd-looking little thing. Her legs were too long for her body. Her head seemed too large. Her disheveled fur was an unmanageable frizzy mess.

  “Well, I better get back inside. I have chores to do,” Allie murmured.

  Bitty waved her off. “The chores can wait. You two hang out . . . get acquainted.”

  A few minutes later, Allie sat cross-legged on her bed, staring at the puppy as she wobbled around, sniffing everything. She had just devoured two large bowls of chicken and rice and lapped up half a bowl of water. She glanced up at Allie, her muzzle wet.

  When Allie looked at the puppy, she couldn’t help but think of Petey, a stray dog she’d had when she was about eight years old. She’d found Petey roaming around their pond out back, took him in, and had instantly become attached to him.

  She’d had Petey for about a month when her mother had taken an interest in the animal. Allie’d been napping in her room, with the dog at the foot of her bed.

  “Petey! C’mon, boy. I have a nice, meaty bone for ya,” her mother had said, her tone strangely upbeat.

  At that point, Allie had learned to avoid her mother at all costs, so she pretended she was sleeping, but her heart pinched thinking that her dog would be anywhere near her mother. She knew the woman was up to something and that it wasn’t going to be good.

  The dog had been hesitant, too.

  “C’mon, sweet doggy,” the woman continued to coax.

  The dog growled in protest and the woman rushed toward him, hooked a rope around his neck, and yanked him out of the room.

  A moment later, the screen door to the back of the house screamed open and snapped shut.

  Tears in her eyes, Allie jumped out of her bed and went to the window to find her mother dragging a bucking Petey into the woods.

  Now bawling, Allie hurried from the room and followed them through the woods at a safe distance. When she returned home, she spent the rest of the day crying under her blankets.

  Later that evening she heard her mother screaming at her brother. Blaming him for what had become of the dog. The woman told him that he was a sick son of a bitch to have done what he did.

  Her brother had claimed he didn’t know anything about it, which he didn’t. That night he got a good beating, and Allie lay huddled in her bed, trying to block out his screams and the images she’d seen earlier in the day.

  Emerging from her memory, she realized the puppy was sitting in front of her, staring. The puppy let out a shrill, demanding bark, but Allie just watched her, not sure what she wanted.

  The puppy barked again, louder.

  She frowned. “What the hell do you want?”

  The pup retracted from Allie as though Allie’d hit her. She sat on her haunches and whimpered. She was scared.

  Reluctantly, Allie reached down and scooped the pup up. She peered into the puppy’s big blue eyes. “I have no idea what to even do with you.”

  The dog stared back and snorted.

  Allie pulled the dog away from her face. “I’m not in the market to get close to anything else right now. I’m taking a big chance with the old lady as it is.”

  The pup snorted again, then whipped out her tongue and licked Allie’s cheek.

  “Eww, gross!” Allie said, distancing her face from the animal even more. The pup continued to stare at her, but now she looked as though she was smiling.

  Allie found herself smiling, too. “Crap. Okay,” she whispered, “but it better be safe to like you, you hear me?”

  The pup’s tail beat furiously against her and she licked her again, making Allie feel warm inside. Then, Allie heard a whooshing sound and her leg began to feel warm, too.

  “No, no, don’t pee on me!”

  That night she lay in bed with the pup, watching her gnaw on a piece of knotted rope Miss Bitty had made for her. Every once in a while, the pup would stop and snort, reminding her of a pig.

  “You sure do snort a lot,” she said.

  The pup cocked its head and stared at her. Then she snorted again.

  “I think I’m going to call you Piglet.”

  She yipped and wagged her tail hard.

  “You like that name?”

  The puppy thumped her tail against the bed.

  “And you like me, too, don’t you?”

  The puppy let out another yip, then went back to gnawing on her rope.

  Allie watched the puppy, her heart swelling. Miss Bitty had been right. She really was cute. “How could anyone in their right mind abandon you? Just leave you to die?”

  She reached for the small dog and scratched behind her ears. The puppy leaned into her fingers, her tail thumping hard against the bed.

  “You know, I lost my brother, too. It’s hard, but you’ll be okay. I think we both will.”

  Piglet gazed into her eyes.

  “I’m going to take really good care of you, li’l lady. Just you watch and see. Maybe I couldn’t help Petey, but I’ll help you.”

  In bed that night, listening to “Lay, Lady, Lay,” Allie cradled a snoring Piglet in her arms. She slept peacefully, comforted by the puppy’s warm little body.

  But in the wee hours of the night, her eyes fluttered open, and she thought she noticed the outline of someone standing in the doorway. She immediately squeezed her eyes closed. Whoever, or whatever, the hell you are, you are NOT going to ruin my brand-new life, she told herself.

  Then she willed herself to fall asleep.

  CHAPTER 34

  AUTUMN ARRIVED, BRINGING orange leaves, crisp breezes, and inevitable . . . unwanted . . . change.

  During the daytime hours, Bitty kept Allie busy with food preparation, cleaning, and client paperwork. Allie also took some of Miss Bitty’s self-care classes and learned cleansing practices like oil pulling, dry brushing, and meditation.

  With Miss Bitty and Louis’s help, Allie felt better than she’d ever felt. More whole, certain of herself, and, best of all, she had finally convinced herself she was someone worthwhile.

  Who cared how she looked, right? These days she spent as little time as possible in front of the mirror. Instead, she concentrated on other, more important, things.

  Things she had some control over.

  She was starting to finally feel some inner peace—and, for the first time, didn’t mind being alone very much, especially if she was with Piglet, which she nearly always was. The pup had become her sidekick—and the pup loved her unconditionally.

  Over the weeks, Allie carefully studied how Miss Bitty interacted with everyone: with Big Joe, with Louis, with her various clients. Even with the guy who brought the gallon-sized bottles of filtered water and always asked for free nutrition advice. She found Miss Bitty was nice to everyone, no m
atter who they were, or what she could gain from them. She was the stark opposite of Allie’s mother in every way.

  Everyone Miss Bitty met seemed to become family. They wanted to hang around, to linger. They wanted to bask in the woman’s energy because it was so good.

  Miss Bitty was a healthy person, and she validated Allie. Allie now realized that validation was one of the things she’d always wanted from her brother but had never gotten. It was part of what had made her so angry with him. But it hadn’t been his fault. He’d been very sick. He’d had enough trouble taking care of his own self, much less been able to attend to Allie’s every need.

  Allie only saw Hannah sporadically, whenever the girl wasn’t busy, which wasn’t very often. Hannah had made friends at school and joined the soccer team—which left little time for Allie. But it didn’t bother Allie much because she was genuinely enjoying her time with everyone at Miss Bitty’s.

  At night, she and Miss Bitty would lie on the couch together and watch what the old woman called junk television: syndicated sitcoms or reality programming. Sometimes Big Joe or Louis would join them, but mostly they spent the time alone. It had become a comforting ritual Allie looked forward to.

  Allie realized most teens would probably find her life boring, but she didn’t. Feeling safe and wanted trumped excitement by a landslide. Besides, she was working on herself. With Miss Bitty’s help she was becoming different; better.

  People were actually going to like her now.

  She no longer was the pariah she’d always been.

  She was working hard on becoming the new Allie and, despite a few minor slipups, she was doing a good job. She was even starting to like the person she was becoming.

  There was only one thing that cast a long shadow on all of the good. It was something that Allie had tried so hard to ignore, to compartmentalize and shove to the back of her mind. But it was no longer working. She needed to talk to someone about what she was hearing and seeing.

  She needed some help.

  Allie stepped barefoot onto the cool porch of the guesthouse.

 

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