Page 117 of Guilty Minds


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“I called you,” Caroline snips as she approaches me. I haven’t seen her in two years. We only ever talk on the phone, and she’s never allowed me to visit Maddie. To think of it, the last time I saw Maddie was a long time ago, right after they were released from the hospital. Caroline only sends me occasional photos of her face, but that's about it.

“I know. I was busy.” I hesitate to unlock the door, even though I don’t have anything valuable in there.

“I don’t care if you’re busy,” She says, her voice terse. “You haven’t replied to me in days.”

I turn to her. “And why do I have to be available to you at all times?”

“Because you owe it to us.” She bares her teeth like a feral coyote.

“I’ve been paying you every single month for nearly eight years. I think I’m entitled to a little break from double payments.”

“When your family caused the kind of suffering they did, you don’t get breaks. Mario?” she yells toward the car. “We have a problem here.” At her voice, the familiar dude with big biceps and no neck gets out of the driver's side and calls to the other one. The guy nods and gets out too—holding a huge freakin’ bat—and they both slowly walk toward us.

I lick my lips, suddenly feeling the thrum of my pulse. My gaze locks on Caroline’s, and I squint at her. “So, what exactly is your plan here?”

Her face turns evil. “To teach you a lesson.” And at that moment, I see through all the bullshit. For once, I see her for who she really is to her core. How did I never see that before? Have I felt so guilty for what my family did that I completely ignored it?

“About what, exactly?” I try to keep a brave face, but the situation’s quickly heading downhill for me. No one knows I’m here—no one. I didn’t tell anybody that I decided to come home today. Not even Archie, because he wasn’t home—probably exploring more kinks at some private party. Why did he have to pick this day of all days not to be around? I usually yell to him that I’m off here or there, so he knows which river to look in for my body in case I don’t come home again.

Is she really going to beat me up? Why else would she bring two dudes with a clear lack of working brain cells, compensated by their sheer muscle mass? It feels like a scene from some mafia movie, only in reality, it feels terrifying.

I make a move toward the door to unlock it—maybe I could sneak inside and slam the door, buying time to call somebody—but Caroline quickly steps in front of me. “You’re not getting out of this.”

Now I really begin to worry. What are my options here? And more importantly, what are their intentions? I swallow a lump of fear and look around. The bushes are moving, but there’s no wind. To hope for a random bear to show up right about now sounds too good to be true.

“What are you gonna do? Break my kneecaps?” I ask as my eyes dart around.

She clicks her tongue. “Hmm, that sounds like a good idea. Don't you think?” She asks the man with no neck. He looks at me with his beady eyes, nodding.

“Not really. Who’s going to pay you then?” I counter, appealing to her logical side—there must be one somewhere, hidden deep down.

Her chuckle is dark. “You’ll be paying me my money no matter what.”

“How would I make money with broken legs?” I ask her, rolling my eyes.

“You think that’s my problem?” She shrugs her leather-clad shoulders, and at that moment, I think I lose my love for leather jackets forever. “Sometimes lessons need to be taught. This is one of those times. I promise you’ll never skip a payment ever again after this.”

“I didn’t skip it! I just didn’t have the means to pay you twice this time.”

She looks me up and down, the disgusted frown on her face deepening. “What about that fancy house in Boston you’re living in with your fancy boyfriend? He looks like he has a lot of money.” She pats the front pocket of her jeans with a sleazy smile.

Now it makes more sense. Somehow she found out where I’ve been living and thinks Archie and I are dating. She wants more money because she thinks I have more money.

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Sure, he isn’t,” she drawls. “He just lets random people live at his place. Right, boys?” A disgusting cackling comes from the doofus duo.

Another movement comes from the bushes, and they all turn toward the sound. Using the distraction to my advantage, I fidget with the keys, but Caroline grabs my braid—why did I decide today of all days to be fancy? —and pulls it with all her might, dropping me to the ground on my back. The bald dude is on top of me in a second, kicking me in the ribs, and I let out a yell. “Asshole! Get your dirty feet off me!" I attempt to scramble back, but another kick comes from the other side.

"Teach her a lesson, boys. She should know never to fuck with me again." Caroline leans on my trailer door as if it's her property. Unfortunately for her, we—trailer park kin—never go down without a fight, so I crawl backward from the feet of the two gorillas.

“You’ve sure changed a lot. You used to be so nice. Suffering, but nice.” I taunt, trying to anticipate their movements. So far, they have managed to kick me twice on each side. Pff—just a Monday-morning warm-up for trailer folks. “Just trying to take care of your daughter.”

“That’s why I’m here, you bitch. I’m still taking care of my daughter. She’ll never walk because of you! Do you know how much work goes into helping her? How much time and money?”

I sigh, telling myself not to fall for it. Not this time. “Caroline, I’m so sorry about what happened to her; I really am. But I wasn’t there, and you know that.”

“Yourfamilyleft a child paralyzed.” She picks at her fingernails. "I can't work. Someone has to foot the bill.”