Page 82 of The Intruder

“I just want to make sure that the welfare of any children on the premises is taken care of,” I clarify.

I’m giving her one more chance to prove that she loves her daughter.

“Yeah, I got a kid,” Jolene says. “But she’s rotten. Never learns her lesson no matter how many times I try to teach her. Good riddance to that one. She’s a bad apple. Bad to the core.”

A bad apple. How many times have I heard that phrase about myself?

Jolene tries to get up but gasps in pain. I wonder how long she’s been trying to get up for. “Why are you asking me all these questions anyway? Where is the gurney? I need to get to the hospital.”

I walk past Jolene to the small table in the center of the kitchen. Jolene’s purse is lying on the table, gaping open. I rifle around in her purse while she narrows her eyes at me.

“What are you going through my purse for?” she snaps at me. “Let’s go to the hospital—now.”

Finally, I find what I’ve been searching for: a crumpled pack of cigarettes. I’m pleased to find there are still a dozen cigarettes left in the pack. I place one between my lips, shove the rest of the pack into my pocket, then pull out the lighter in her purse. I wish I still had the lighter Anton gave me—it’s the one thing I’m sorry I lost in that fire all those years ago.

“Hey,” she says. “What are you doing with that?”

“Hang on,” I tell her. “I’m just having a quick smoke.”

Jolene watches me light the cigarette, her breathing ragged. She can’t quite figure out why I’m smoking her cigarettes, but she doesn’t have the energy to yell at me. The smoke fills my lungs, and it’s all I can do to suppress a cough. It’s my first time smoking a cigarette, and it’s every bit as vile as I imagined it to be. I crouch down beside Jolene and take a second drag, then blow the smoke directly into her face.

“Hey,” she snaps at me. “You mind putting that out?”

I arch an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because I’m injured.”

“So?”

She gives me a funny look. “I said put it out. Or else I’m going to file a report.”

“Sure,” I say. “No problem.”

I grab her arm and press the lit end of the cigarette deep into the soft flesh of her forearm. She howls with pain and tries to yank her arm away from me, but I’d be stronger than her even if she weren’t weak from all the blood loss. I don’t let her go until the flame has been extinguished.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” she screams at me as she cradles her injured arm. “That really hurt!”

Oh, I know exactly how much being burned by a cigarette hurts.

She tries again to get up, but between the stab wound and her burned arm, she isn’t going anywhere. “Aren’t you supposed to take me to the hospital? I’m reporting you to your boss!”

I almost laugh at how ridiculous her statement is. “I’m not a paramedic, Jolene.”

“Then…” She looks me over, and for the first time, a flicker of fear passes over her sallow features. “What are you doing here?”

I look up at the kitchen counter. There’s a knife block there, full of extremely sharp blades. But when I look at the painfully thin woman squirming on the linoleum floor, I don’t think I need them.

No, the pack of cigarettes will do just fine.

“You know,” I say. “There were bruises all over your daughter’s arms. Would you like to tell me how that happened?”

She narrows her eyes at me. “How do you know Nell?”

I meet her gaze, staring at her until she looks away. “Answer the question, Jolene.”

“Beats me,” she finally grunts. “That kid is always asking for it, and it looks like someone finally taught her a lesson.”

I retrieve the pack of cigarettes from my pocket and pull out another smoke. I use the lighter to light the second cigarette the same way I watched my mother do it a million times when I was a child. It’s hard to use a lighter with my leather gloves on, but there’s no way I’m taking them off. As soon as it’s lit, I pull it from my lips before too much smoke gets into my lungs.