Get You Good

by Rhonda Bowen

  She laughed. “That’s why you’re here, Sydney. You think you’re so much better than me. But you’re not. You and me, we’re the same. I wanted that money for me, and you’re here now because you want it for you, too. Well, guess what, sugar. Game’s over. I’ve got the money.”

  “And just like the day they read Leroy’s will”—Sheree paused to take another draw—“you get nothing.”

  She blew the smoke straight into Sydney’s face and laughed.

  But before the smoke could even clear, Sheree’s laugh was cut off by long slim fingers around her neck. The cigarette slipped from her fingers onto the table and her eyes widened in fear as she struggled in vain to pull Sydney’s ever-tightening hands from around her neck. Her ears rung as she gasped for breath.

  “Syd, what are you doing?” Lissandra hissed, looking around nervously. “This is not the place. Syd!”

  But Sydney only had ears for Sheree. Her eyes watched the younger woman gasp for breath.

  “Look at me.” Sydney’s voice was so low and so unnervingly calm that it sounded foreign to her own ears.

  Sheree focused her terrified eyes on Sydney’s cold, calm face.

  “Listen very carefully. I’m going to say this only one time.” Sydney spoke quietly but she knew that Sheree heard every word—especially since her next breath literally depended on it. “You will give us back that money. One way or another. Do you understand?”

  Sheree nodded her head quickly, even though Sydney’s grip made it difficult.

  Sydney leaned closer. “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you.”

  “Ye-yes,” Sheree squeaked.

  Sydney glared a moment longer at Sheree’s face, which had gone from red to pale to tinted blue. She let her go and the younger woman slumped back in the booth, gasping for air.

  “You ladies doing all right?” Mindy asked, coming to the back with a pitcher of beer and glasses for all of them.

  “Oh yeah, we’re doing great,” Lissandra said cheerfully. “Right, Sher-Shayla?”

  Sheree nodded and rubbed her neck, offering a weak smile.

  “OK, then,” Mindy said cheerily. “I know it’s pretty loud in here, but just holler if you need anything.”

  “Gotcha,” Lissandra said.

  Sydney was glad Lissandra was doing all the talking, because suddenly she wasn’t feeling so good. What had just happened? Had she just put her hands around a woman’s neck? She could have killed her. She knew, because for a brief moment she had thought about it. It had crossed her mind. What if she had just kept squeezing . . . just until she couldn’t speak . . . just until her words stopped hurting . . . until they stopped being so painfully true?

  But that wasn’t who Sydney was. She wasn’t a killer. Right?

  A wave of nausea washed over her and she stood up.

  “I’m going to the restroom,” she said to Lissandra. “Watch her.”

  “OK,” Lissandra said. Sydney could see the concern in her sister’s eyes, but she didn’t have time to reassure her, when she didn’t even know what was happening inside herself.

  She slipped into an empty stall in the restroom and leaned her back against the closed door, closing her eyes. When she did, she could see Sheree’s face laughing at her. Hear her words mocking her. Then she saw Dean, and Leroy. Even Jackie. And she imagined that at some point they had laughed at her also. Or worse, pitied her.

  Sheree was right. Sydney had thought Decadent would be hers. Why? Because Leroy had told her. A long time ago when she was just a little girl, when she should have been too young to remember. But she did.

  It had been the summer before Leroy and Jackie had gotten back together. She had been only nine years old. It had been late. She had been sitting on a table near the exit, waiting for him to lock up so he could take her home. Lissandra and JJ had gone home early and were already at the house. But Sydney had stuck around with her dad until closing time.

  She remembered that day like it had just happened. Everyone else had left, all the offices had been locked up, and all that was left to do was turn off the lights and shut the front door. Leroy reached for the switch, but paused just before, looking back at the empty shop.

  “What is it, Daddy?” Sydney had asked.

  He hadn’t answered right away. Just smiled.

  “Sometimes I can’t believe how good God has been to me,” he said with a shake of his head. “I never thought God would ever give me all of this.” He turned to Sydney. “And one day, pumpkin, this will all be yours.”

  Sydney’s eyes had widened. “Me?”

  He laughed. “Yes, you.” He pinched her nose. “I can see the little baker in you already.”

  “But it’s so big!”

  He laughed again, this time turning off the lights and opening the front door for Sydney to go outside.

  “Don’t worry, pumpkin. When you’re older, it won’t seem that way at all.”

  Sydney’s eyes burned at the memory. She blinked rapidly and was surprised to feel wetness on her cheeks. Was she crying? No, she wouldn’t cry about this. Not anymore. That was years ago. Before Dean was ever even born. Before he had a son who could carry on his legacy. She should have known things would not be the same. Not after the years of chaos that had followed.

  What she did know, though, was that no one was going to give her anything. And if she wanted to start to get things back in order with her family, she would need to finish what she started with Sheree.

  Sydney stepped out of the stall and stared at herself in the mirror for a moment as she tried to figure out who the woman was staring back at her. She gave up trying and instead splashed some water on her face, washing away any traces of tears. She was about to pat it dry with a napkin when she heard a scream.

  When she dashed from the restroom, she found Lissandra crouched down at their table, her hands covering face.

  “Where is Sheree?”

  Lissandra was still crouched down, but Sydney still managed to catch her muffled words.

  “She’s gone. Sheree is gone!”

  Chapter 30

  “Aargh! She threw beer in my face,” Lissandra screamed.

  “You let her go!” Sydney hissed.

  “She threw beer in my face! I can’t even see!”

  “I’m going after her.”

  Without waiting for a reply, Sydney dashed through the bar and out the front door. The cold night wind stung her face. She looked around, but there was no sign of Sheree. She suddenly heard a car engine start and tires squeal as a silver BMW reversed quickly out of a parking space.

  Sprinting to her car, Sydney jumped in and gunned the engine, keeping her eyes on the direction of the BMW. She was almost sure that it was Sheree. The car peeled through the parking lot, almost hitting a group of pedestrians before turning right and taking off. But the delay with the pedestrians kept Sydney from losing her completely. As she turned right out of the parking lot, she caught a glimpse of Sheree’s car far ahead up the road.

  Ignoring the speed limit, Sydney hit the accelerator and began to close the distance between her and Sheree. Her Nissan was no BMW, but it could hold its own. Soon she was close enough to see the custom plates marked SHAY. There was no doubt whom the car belonged to.

  She was almost close enough to pull alongside Sheree, but the woman must have looked back and seen her in the rearview mirror and pulled away again. Sydney slammed her hand against the steering wheel before accelerating again. The cars around her seemed to be standing still as she flew past in pursuit of Sheree. The woman weaved in and out of the two lanes of traffic, easily avoiding the scattering of cars that seemed to be on the road. Sydney tried to follow, but the constant lane changing made it hard for her to catch up with Sheree. Car chasing was not her forte.

  As Sheree took the road higher and higher, the traffic began to thin out more. Sydney wasn’t that familiar with Kingston, but she was sure they were heading east toward the harbor. Sydney didn’t know what Sheree was planning, but whatever it was
, she wasn’t going to let it get that far. The break in the traffic gave her the opportunity she needed, and she floored her gas pedal and caught up with Sheree.

  Pulling up beside her, she rammed Sheree’s car with the side of hers, nearly losing control of her Nissan in the process. For a moment, fear sliced through Sydney as she felt her car sway onto the other side of the road. It did not look this dangerous on TV.

  “Are you crazy?” Sheree screamed. Even though the window was up, Sydney could read the words on Sheree’s lips, as well as see the mix of fear and anger in her eyes.

  Sydney rolled down her window.

  “Pull over!” Sydney screamed back.

  “Go to hell!”

  Sheree pulled off again, and Sydney was forced to fall behind her as a huge truck came bearing down on the opposite side of the road. Instead of giving up, however, she sped up and rammed Sheree hard in the back. The force of the impact caused Sydney’s car to swerve a little, but she grabbed ahold of the steering wheel and kept it steady.

  “You better pull over that car!” Sydney screamed.

  She rammed the back of Sheree’s car again. Sheree’s car tilted a little, swinging into oncoming traffic. Sheree suddenly moved to the side and hit the brakes, allowing Sydney to shoot past her. Then she pulled up beside her and rammed Sydney’s car on the left side, causing Sydney to skid onto the shoulder of the road and giving Sheree time to take off again.

  Sydney screamed obscenities at Sheree before taking off behind her again. By the time she caught up with her, they were speeding along Ontario street, where gaps between buildings offered glimpses of the harbour that was closer than it seemed. Sydney was right on her tail when Sheree made a quick right onto the La Salle Causeway. It was empty as far as Sydney could see. There was nothing but her and Sheree and the Kingston Harbour on both sides of the road.

  Speeding forward, she clipped Sheree in the back again, but this time the car didn’t bounce forward. Sydney tried to fall back a little, but she couldn’t. She hit the brakes even harder, but all she got was resistance and the smell of burning rubber.

  Her heart began to pound in her chest as she realized what had happened. She was stuck to Sheree’s car. She floored the brakes and but still nothing. She pressed on the horn, somehow trying to alert Sheree to what was happening. But either the woman didn’t know or didn’t care. She accelerated, pulling Sydney along with her. Sydney twisted her steering wheel, trying to pull herself away as she continued to lean on the horn. Both cars began to swing from one side of the road to the other.

  Sydney felt sweat break out on her forehead and nose. What had she gotten herself into?

  She tried again in vain to detach herself from Sheree. Sheree, seeming finally to realize what had happened, began to turn her steering wheel and accelerate at the same time. Sydney wasn’t sure what happened, but suddenly she found herself pressed against the side of her car as both cars went spinning at high speed across the causeway. They finally became separated, but only in time for both vehicles to go flying off the road.

  Time slowed to a crawl for Sydney. In the same moment, her mind seemed to leave her body as the scene unfolded in front of her, as if she were watching it in IMAX on mute. She saw herself suspended in the air over the Kingston Harbour, the shock and fear on her face clearly visible through the car windshield, her dark hair pressed against her face. She suddenly realized, however, that it was not herself she was looking at. It was Sheree, trapped in her BMW. Sydney was seeing her through her own windshield as both their vehicles headed for the water.

  Sydney had heard people who’d been through near-death experiences say their life flashed before their eyes. But as her car sliced into the water, she didn’t see scenes from her life. Only people. The staff from the shop. Her Aunt Essie. Her sisters. Dean. Hayden. Jackie. Leroy. His disappointed expression cut through the fear and tore her heart in two with regret. His was the last face she saw as water poured in through the windows of her Nissan and soaked her feet as it came up from the floor.

  And then Sheree’s car fell on hers.

  After that everything went black.

  Chapter 31

  It was hazy around her. Like the sky outside the plane when you’re flying through a cloud. The air felt thick, like a light, white blanket. It was so quiet she could hear her heartbeat. A slow steady rhythm that served to keep her anchored.

  “Sydney.”

  The silence was broken by the low whisper of her name. It was so faint she was almost sure she imagined it. Until she heard it again, a little louder than before. She tried to answer, but she couldn’t. There was no sound.

  “Sydney.”

  The voice became more distinct even as the sound of her heartbeat became louder, sharper, and somehow mechanical.

  “Sydney. Syd, can you hear me?”

  She could hear her but couldn’t answer. And now the haze began to grow dark. She felt pressure on her hand and she tried to squeeze back but couldn’t. Her body wasn’t cooperating. She tried to speak again, and this time her voice stirred from wherever it had been hidden.

  “Lissa . . .”

  “Yes! Sydney, it’s me. Open your eyes, sweetie. Open your eyes.”

  Sydney was sure it was Lissandra. She heard sniffles and hiccups that sounded like crying. Lissandra never cried.

  She finally managed to crack her eyes open, though she almost wished she hadn’t as the harsh light assaulted her senses. She groaned and closed them for a moment, before trying again.

  “Oh, thank God!” Lissandra cried. Sydney could feel her sister’s arms around her neck and her long, curly hair against her cheek.

  “Lissandra? What’s going on?” Sydney asked slowly, squinting at her sister as Lissandra pulled away.

  Lissandra’s face was wet and her eyes swollen as she gazed at Sydney with a mix of distress and relief.

  “You’ve been unconscious,” she said between sobs. “For two days.”

  Sydney blinked rapidly as she tried to process what her sister had just told her.

  “Two days?”

  Lissandra nodded. “They haven’t been able to revive you since they pulled you out of the water. Even though they managed to pump the water out your lungs, they didn’t know how long you’d been without oxygen in the car, so they weren’t sure if you had brain damage....

  Lissandra was still talking, but Sydney could barely focus on her voice as the memories of what had happened began to come back to her in bits and pieces.

  The bridge. Speeding along the causeway. The cars going into the lake. Sheree.

  “Sheree,” Sydney said, suddenly cutting off her sister. “Where is Sheree . . . ?”

  “She’s . . .”

  “Syd! You’re awake!” JJ almost tossed the two cups of hot liquid on the table in her hurry to get to Sydney’s side.

  “Oh, thank God.” She threw her arms around Sydney and began to cry. “I was worried that you might end up like Dean.”

  “Dean?” Sydney felt a streak of panic run through her, though she couldn’t remember why. “What’s wrong with Dean?”

  “The coma,” JJ said. “You know, from the accident?”

  Sydney looked to Lissandra for help.

  “Dean was in an accident a couple weeks ago,” Lissandra said slowly. “Remember?”

  Sydney searched her brain and slowly bits and pieces began to come back to her.

  “What’s wrong with her?” JJ asked, glancing at Lissandra.

  “She just woke up,” Lissandra said. “I think it’s taking her a while to remember things.”

  “We should call the doctor.” JJ got up from Sydney’s bedside and headed to the door.

  Sydney took the opportunity to ask her previously unanswered question again.

  “Where’s Sheree?”

  Lissandra glanced at the door before leaning forward.

  “She’s here in the hospital,” Lissandra said quietly. “She was unconscious like you, but I heard one of the nurses say she woke up
yesterday.”

  So she was still alive. Sydney felt relief rush through her. Even in her impaired state, she knew she had no positive feelings toward the woman, but if she was dead that would make Sydney a murderer. There was no coming back from that.

  “But get this,” Lissandra said. “I think she may have amnesia. The nurses are saying she doesn’t remember anything about who she is.”

  Sydney knew this was important for some reason, but her brain was still foggy, and even though her sister said she had been asleep for a few days, she still felt tired. Thinking about Sheree would have to be postponed.

  “Ms. Isaacs.”

  Sydney looked up to see the doctor, an older gentleman that reminded her of Elmer Fudd, enter the room with a nurse and JJ just steps behind him.

  “Glad to see you’re awake.” He gave a tight-lipped smile as he checked the readings on the machines beeping away beside her. “How are you feeling?”

  “Tired.” It took so much effort to speak. Her mouth felt like it was full of cotton. “And a bit disoriented.”

  He nodded. “That’s quite normal. You’ve been through a great deal of trauma and your body is still working on healing. Are you in pain?”

  Sydney shook her head. “Should I be?”

  “Well, you’ve fractured your right leg and we’ve set it in a cast, but we have you on pain medication, so you may not feel anything right away,” he said. “But once we start to lower your dosage, you will start to experience some discomfort.”

  Sydney nodded.

  “When can she go home?” Lissandra asked.

  “We want to observe her for a few more days, just to make sure there isn’t any serious brain damage, but if all goes well she should be able to go home in about three days,” he said, scribbling something on Sydney’s chart.

  “You’re a very lucky woman, Ms. Isaacs,” the doctor said as he prepared to leave.

  “Not lucky, blessed,” JJ corrected.

  The doctor smiled. “Take it easy and get some rest. Nurse Weir will be back to check on you later this afternoon.”