“A girl, eh?” Jim winked. “I’d know that look anywhere.”
William jerked his chin to the building. “Let’s get this done so I can get back to her.”
…
Disbelief. Total shock. Lucy stopped the message, clicked replay, and listened again. She nearly had it memorized.
“Lucy, it’s Carlos. Carlos from California. You remember me. Of course you do. Long time no talk. Hey, I saw your alligator spot. I was hoping I could convince you to come work with me again. I’m managing a station here in Ohio. I have a couple of positions available right now…a morning anchor position and a general assignment reporter. I’m hoping one of these might interest you. Would love to work together again. Call me.”
She took a huge breath. Leaving Confluence would be her reality.
Numb, she started making a list of all she’d need to do before she moved on—the sooner the better. She couldn’t handle seeing William every day. Even if she found a job at one of the other news outlets, she’d bump into him around town.
And that would hurt too damn bad.
Her heart was already in pieces.
Stupid Fat Caterpillar.
Space and time and she’d heal from this.
That was likely a lie. But she knew for sure she wouldn’t be able to move on in the same small town where he lived.
It was too late to return Carlos’s call. She’d do it first thing in the morning, and start packing immediately.
In the meantime, she’d keep her chin up. Keep living her life. Which, at the moment, included taking out the trash.
She hefted the overfull bag from the plastic bin, turning her head away from the smell of three-day-old yogurt containers and the chicken she had never gotten around to cooking. The trek to the dumpster at the far side of the building always seemed farther when she waited too long to take out the garbage. The sun had tucked itself along the horizon with the promise of night soon to follow. Most of the time she didn’t mind being alone. Except, lately, at night she’d gotten used to Will being around.
She shook her head. They both knew their—whatever it was they had—was over. Nights alone used to be her normal, she’d get used to that once more.
A murmur of voices from a group of boys came around the side of the recycle bins.
“Give her back.” Lucy would know Simon’s voice anywhere. Even with the slight tremble.
Careful not to make any sound, she set the trash sack next to the dumpster and scooted around the edge.
One of horrible boys from the bus stop—the big kid who looked like he hit puberty at age nine and bulked up with muscle shortly thereafter—held Mitzy by the scruff of her neck, her body poised to be dropped into a canvas grocery bag. Judging by the way Mitzy fought against his hold, she wasn’t there by choice.
Oh. Hell. No.
“What are you doing?” Lucy asked, her hands immediately going to her hips.
Simon didn’t take his eyes from Mitzy. “They took your cat. I’m tryin’ to get her back.”
“She’s a feisty one.” The kid who kicked the clod of dirt at Simon, and presently held Mitzy, glanced her way. The way the he looked at her made her flesh shiver, like he could see right through her, slashed her open, exposing every vulnerability she ever had.
Screw that.She was so over being a victim to jerks like this.
“Give back the cat. Simon, we’re calling your dad. He can deal with this.” She glared at the group. “Don’t mess with my cat again.”
“Or what?” The kid was all piss and vinegar. He did, however, thrust the cat back to Simon. Mitzy wasn’t thrilled about the transfer. She kicked and spit until Simon set her on the ground. Then she took off for Lucy’s apartment.
Lucy had enough of the monster who had held Mitzy hostage. “Let me tell you something about the world.” She stepped forward toward him and put on her sternest mask. It was like she was addressing all of the jerks who had ever touched her, hurt her, embarrassed her. “There are consequences to actions. I’ll be talking to the police chief. I’ll be certain that he contacts your parents, your principal, your teachers about all of this. And if you touch my cat again, or Simon for that matter, or any other kid in your class, I will make sure everyone knows that you like to pick on animals and people smaller than you.”
“You’re no fun at all,” he huffed.
“No, I’m not.” She turned back to her apartment. That was the first time she’d ever stood up to someone like him. Fine, he was still a kid, but he needed to learn before he became an older, bigger version of the same bully. Her hands shook a bit and her skin had probably broken out in hives. Nevertheless, she’d done it. It felt amazing. Runners got their high after a sprint or a marathon. Not that she’d ever run for enjoyment, but this feeling had to be close to what they experienced. “C’mon Simon.”
