CHAPTER FORTY
Brett
Present
“I know you’ve expressed fear that you’ll see him again,” Judy draws her leg up under one knee, “but have you thought about what you would do if you did?”
Sometimes I want to ask Judy what other people tell her, because whenever she’s talking to me, she acts like what I’m saying is completely normal. Then again, maybe I don’t want to know…
One side of my mouth curls and I actually smile, “You mean when I see him again?”
“Do you think you actually will?”
“I already do.”
Judy arches her brow with intrigue, “Really?”
I nod and take a sip from my water bottle, running my fingertip over the collage of stickers from all the places I’ve been since arriving here, a record of my journey to safety—for the time being, anyway, “I see him everywhere. Around every corner and in every reflection behind me.” It feels weird to say it out loud, “He’s part of me now.”
“Have you told your boyfriend this?”
“He already knows,” I say with a nod, “he’s the one who told me that he’ll never let go, that he’ll never stop hunting me because I got away.” I glance around Judy’s office, “It’s why I ended up here, in your office, right now.”
“Alright, then what are you going to do when that day comes?” she tips her chin and peers across the coffee table at me, “What are you going to do when you see him again?”
I think back to that night, the subsequent nights, the long road—literally and figuratively—that brought me to this moment. Then I think about all the fear and anxiety and panic attacks and my own attempts at exorcising my attacker who embedded himself in my head like a cancer.
I wanted to know what it felt like to be a predator.
Now, I have to become that predator—for real—and this is how I do it.
“That’s part of the reason I’m here,” I raise my head with resolve, “I need to make sure when it happens that I’m not afraid. I need to look past the fear, and I need you to teach me how.”
●●●
“When’s he coming back?” my mom asks.
“In a couple days,” I reply, wandering down the hall to my office.
“How are you feeling? I could’ve come stayed with you—or Jo! Especially since you don’t have a car…”
Apparently, the dealership is fresh out of bumpers for my 4Runner. My car won’t be ready to pick up today, maybe not even tomorrow. But it’s not a crisis, there are two additional vehicles down the hill in the pole building that replaced the old, collapsing shed. Well, maybe one additional vehicle, because one’s a stick and I hate driving stick, almost as much as I hate not having my car.
“Mom, it’s a 10-hour flight and he’s only going to be gone for a few days. It’s not like I’m cut off from everyone.” She knows it sounds ridiculous, but she feels like she has to say it anyway. She worries about me more than she used to; because of the baby, and because of what happened last year…
I also don’t have any plans to go anywhere specific. I just cleaned my office, a bright, pastel coral corner of the house with large windows that face the woods out back and floor-to-ceiling bookshelves that are finally full again. There are spider plants and fronds and succulents, and gilded gold frames on the walls splashing color into each corner of the room. And, best of all, there’s an oversized cream chair and ottoman nestled in the corner between the shelves and the window, which is the most perfect reading chair on the planet. It’s also Sodapop’s favorite place to nap when the sun hits it just right in the afternoon.
“I know, I know,” she tries to reassure herself, “his sister is close by, isn’t she? I’m sure she’s keeping an eye on you.” She makes me sound like a ticking time bomb.
“Yes, I talk to her all the time. Besides, we’ve been busy with PR for the book and I just did a podcast episode with some friends, so I’m keeping busy.”
“That’s great!” she finally sounds relieved, “I’m sorry I sound so high-strung. I think you’ve handled everything much better than I ever could have.”
In a sense…
“It would be better if you and Jo came after the baby’s born anyway.”
I don’t want either of you here yet…
My mom feels better by the end of our conversation, but I wish I could just focus enough to finish reading my current book. I’d love to get lost in one of the thousands of books on my reading list. It’s the best way to get inspired. But I’m on edge, alert, and I have to stay that way, at least for the time being—while he’s gone.
All the same, I don’t like for my routine to be thrown off too much, which is what this fender-bender has caused. But I’ve also gotten a lot better at dealing with unexpected events. I find comfort in my routines, but now I’m learning to reframe and try to find the opportunities in the unexpected.
To adapt and use them to my advantage…
Exhibit A: Valerie. I met her because she slammed into the back of my car. She might just be a random person to anyone else, but now she’s part of my story. This is how I view things now; good or bad, there are no coincidences. Everyone has a part to play.
Of course, that’s what a writer would say…
Speaking of which, I should text Valerie and let her know about my car. She offered to give me a ride back into town while he’s gone on the hunting trip. I’ve been so busy with the book release and running social media PR campaigns, it’s been refreshing to meet someone new—in person.
But before I can, my phone starts ringing. I glance at the caller ID as I stir some cream into my iced coffee and answer it.
“Did you see the texts I sent you?” the familiar, bubbly voice asks immediately.
“Yeah, a bunch of links? But I haven’t had a chance to look at them yet.”
The two guys left the house around lunch time, quads loaded with enough equipment to last them for days. Maybe it’s how prepared they were, or maybe how confident they are in general, especially together, but it quelled my worry by the time they left.
