“I’m not sure what you have planned for the weekend, but you’re welcome to come to my family’s home. We can introduce you to real Kentucky barbeque. My dad always makes too much.”
She’s so fucking sweet. “I may take you up on your offer. I don’t have any set plans.” Especially now that Jon is out of the picture. I should probably just delete his contact from my phone, so I’m not tempted to text him or anything. I guess it’s true that some thingsaretoo good to be true.
“I’ll let you know, T. I think I’m just gonna get a burrito and head back to my place for now. I definitely need a shower.”
“Yea. Likewise. Thanks for asking me to train with you. I had so much fun,” she says, giving me her perfect Miss America smile. I swear, this girl could have been a beauty queen, and she chose wrestling. I should take her up on her invite, just to meet her family and figure out what their thoughts are ontheirdaughter wrestling.
I avoid going home like the plague. Jacky is the main reason I go home anymore. Dad doesn’t have strong opinions about me wrestling—at least not openly. Mom is the tough nut to crack in my family. I feel like she’s always been harder on me than Jacky. I know she loves me; I just don’t think she likes me very much. Like, I’ve disappointed her. I mean, her facial expressions, and heavy sighs during phone calls and family dinners over the years, have told me that much.
I bet if I showed up to Jacky’s wedding with Jon as my date, my mom would faint. Me—her rebellious, disappointing daughter—dating a pediatric cardiologist. My mom would have loved Jon, too. I mean, who wouldn’t? He’s perfect.Was.
He’s good on paper. When it’s time for him to put his words into actions, he falls short. He probably wised up and realized that human swizzle stick, Nicolette, is a better fit for him in the long run. And why thefuckdo I care?!
I have everything I need. Jon was fun, and that’s it. Done. Done.Done.
I’m exhausted when I get back to my apartment, ready for a hot shower and some takeout. I place my order for my food, knowing it will be delivered by the time I’m out of the shower. Wiping the steam off the mirror threatens to remind me of thathotnight Jon and I shared in this same bathroom. I scoff at my reflection.
“He wasn’tthatamazing,” I tell myself.
A knock on my door draws my attention to more important things: Chinese food!
I throw on a big t-shirt and a pair of shorts, and my wet hair drips around the collar and sleeves. I open the door, losing all interest in eggrolls. Next to my takeout bag is a black envelope with silver studs around the border, with my name written on the front.
Margeaux,
I always thought we had a special connection.
Turns out you’re still a slut like all those years ago.
Something tells me I finally have something you want.
Or, should I say,someone?
Always Yours.
Inside the envelope is a picture of Jon. His head is covered in blood, and he’s tied to a chair. Oh my God! This psycho has Jon?! I turn the photo over and an additional message is on the back.
If you want him, come get him.
Come alone.
No. No. No. No. How is this happening?Whyis this happening?
Looking at the picture closely, the room Jon is in looks horriblyfamiliar. The faded wallpaper. The cheap floral bedding. The old carpeting, that I can tell by looking at it, is still scratchy. I swallow a lump in my throat thinking I’d never go back to that place.That room.
32
JON
Everything is short,painful flashes.
I was outside my apartment.
Something hit my head. That explains the massive headache, and probable concussion. I try to focus my eyes on something, but it hurts to open them. I’ll try again in a little while.
I think I was put in the trunk of a car. I was in there for a while. They wouldn’t stop for long. I pissed myself.Three times.
When the trunk was finally opened, something sharp was stuck into my neck.Drugs.
