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I read some of the comments, and they made my stomach curdle. People were laughing at me, some saying how much they hated and never liked nor trusted me. That Rhoda person was in the comments as well, fanning the flames, but who was she? And how did she know these things?
Oh no, was he back? There was only one person who knew about my attempt to hire a hitman, and that was the man himself. That bastard had stolen my money and disappeared more than fifteen years ago.
But why would he out himself? No, this had to be someone else, but who? Who did he talk to? I have to have my name removed from this vile page, but I didn’t have the first clue how to go about doing that.
There were already hundreds, if not thousands, of comments, not to mention views. If the women from the country club saw this that would be the end of me. All my years of hard work would be down the drain.
I’d spent the last fifteen years cultivating my image. No one knew the real story behind me and Corbin getting together because I had told them a story of my own making. That we had met and fallen in love.
I’d painted a picture of Gigi that was not very flattering, and over time, people had started to believe me, especially when she turned herself into a recluse. That’s probably the only thing that saved her back then, the fact that she had disappeared and withdrawn from society. Otherwise, I would’ve used more of Corbin’s money to hire someone else, someone more trustworthy this time, to get rid of her and her welp.
I hadn’t even thought of that in years, so why was it being brought up now of all times? I scratched and read as fast as I could while my body shook, as it wracked with fever. And that headache became blinding the longer I looked at the screen.
I was thirsty, hot, and itchy, but I dared not turn on the air conditioner because of the low gas tank. I dropped the driver’s seat back and closed my eyes, just for a second, just until the pain went away.
I must’ve drifted off because the next thing I knew, the sun was high in the sky, and there was a police officer tapping against my window. “Yes, sir?”
“Ma’am, let me see your ID.” I reached into my purse that was on the passenger seat and passed it to him.
He looked it over before giving it back to me.
Ma’am, you can’t stay here. You see that.” He pointed to a sign that said customers only.
“It’s a parking lot.”
“Yes, I know, but someone called it in. They said that you have been parked here for two days. Ma’am, are you living in your car?”
“What? No.” Just then, a swarm of fleas flew out, and some landed on him, making him jump back and swear.
“Ma’am, step out of the car, better yet, roll up the window.” He pulled out his walkie-talkie as I rolled up the window, and I turned the key in the ignition and started the car up.
It looked like he was motioning me to stop, but I ignored him. I needed to get the hell out of there. The car wouldn’t move. From the sounds and feel of it, there was no air in my tires. How could this be?
I was stuck, scared, and alone. Where the hell was Corbin? That stupid poem came on again, and I wanted to scream, but I was afraid to open my mouth because the memory of those fleas flying in not once but twice prevented me.
I heard sirens as a fire truck pulled into the lot behind me and the cop who walked over to talk to them as they jumped down. I watched as they erected a tent right there in the parking lot before he came back to my window and ordered me out of the car.
I looked around to see if I saw anyone I knew as there was a crowd gathering, and I stepped out of the car, forgetting that I had wet myself and there was a large wet stain on the back of my skirt. Even I could smell the stench of pee, so I was sure they could as well.
I was led into the tent, where I was hosed down like an animal. “Ma’am, we’re going to have to tow your car; it’s infested with fleas.” They were acting like it was the plague. I tried arguing but it was no use. Apparently, fleas don’t only affect me but everybody in the damn country.
The tow truck showed up not much later, and I was given a bill for the tow. “But I didn’t order this.”
“Those are the rules, ma’am.” I started to argue, but then everything went black, and I passed out.
ALYSSA
To Corbin, the man who was supposed to love and protect me when I was at my most vulnerable, you failed. I know you think your excuse of Helen hiring a hitman is enough to assuage your guilt for my years of pain, but it isn’t, and I’ll tell you why.
I was a child who lost her foundation, her peace, and her safety. Had it not been for my brothers, I have no idea where I would be. While you were living your own reality, this was mine.
I was the girl whose brothers took her to the father-daughter breakfast because you had to take your stepdaughter, or your wife would raise hell. It was my brothers who tucked me in at night while we listened to my mother cry in the room next door.
From the age of eight to twelve, one or more of my brothers had to act like sentinels while I spent weekends in your home just so I could spend some time with you. Once they were gone, you weren’t allowed to spend any time with me because Helen wanted you to spend time with her daughter.
You couldn’t be at my sweet sixteen, my coming out ball, or my graduation because Mitzie needed you to fill in for all those occasions. You missed most, if not all, of the most important things in my life so you could play father to someone else’s child while I endured ridicule and laughter from my peers and Mitzie’s, who all knew what was going on.
You allowed that monster to torment me from the age of twelve to eighteen, and I bore it all in silence, not because I was weak or even scared. But because I was planning your demise with every breath I took.
