Page 48 of Bad Intentions

The truth is, my mom was the girl who everyone wanted to fit with. Jealousy is a sharp weapon.

Me, I was the one who didn’t fit. I rarely was on anyone’s radar unless someone was fishing for a juicy story, as my family’s past definitely had plenty. So I preferred to be alone, in my room, reading or playing my guitar, occasionally hanging out with those who were outcasts like me. Most importantly, I had Grandma, who was my human barricade against all that. She wasn’t affectionate, didn’t know how to do family time much, busy with the diner she managed, often making me do my homework there, or hang out in the office, or help in the kitchen. But if there was trouble, she’d stomp into my school principal’s office and lay it out like it was. Many were afraid of her, especially after what happened. I suppose that was natural. But she’d always been like that, according to stories I heard—strong-willed and unapologetic. She could’ve been a mayor. Or a sheriff. Or a principal. Or an entire parent committee. And to me, she was all the above.

“I don’t mean to bring up the negative stuff,” Trevor says, pulling me out of my thoughts, “but you have to look at the facts objectively. I do. I was almost a decade older than your mom. Wasn’t in town when all that went down, but I heard people talk later. All of it. Good, bad, mostly bad. No offense, that’s how it was.” Trevor clicks his vape pen and takes a deep drag, then exhales as I wait for him to talk. “So, when you objectively look at the facts, you wonder if those two, Alysha and Victoria, had their boots muddy.”

I try to understand what he means by this. “Are you implying that they were somehow involved in what went down?”

“They were, I’m sure. There wasn’t enough evidence, hence they never went to trial. But all the clues point to them.”

I take a deep breath, processing what he just said. My mom is dead. Her best friend from school left town right after the trial. My grandmother obviously served time, though not for murder.

“Okay,” I say, “but why? Why would they be involved? I mean, let’s say the guy is a psycho. He was involved with plenty of women in this town in a span of several weeks. Had a beef with my grandma at the bar, which doesn’t make sense because my grandma is hard to rattle. Why would she get so wound up?”

“Her and Donna Snickett,” Trevor corrects me. “Because their daughters were running around with that guy, stirring up all sorts of trouble.”

“They weren’t the only ones. And who cares?”

Trevor exchanges looks with Rika, then clears his throat. “Okay, I’m not going to beat around the bush. When I say running around, I mean it wasn’t just partying. Alysha was involved with Derek.”

I roll my eyes. “Sure.”

“I mean, involved in a way that made Karen really angry.”

“Doubt it. My mom didn’t have a stellar reputation. But surely that guy wasn’t anything special.”

Trevor tosses the vape pen on the table and shakes his head in obvious irritation. “He was”—Trevor flicks his brows, pinning me down with his gaze—“special. Considering he is potentially your dad.”

“What?” I blink hard, stunned.

Trevor laughs and exchanges glances with Rika. “She’s clueless, no?” He turns to me. “Don’t tell me it never crossed your mind. I mean, I don’t wanna rub you the wrong way. But that’s pretty obvious.”

His words hit me like a train. Not that I didn’t consider it. Sure, I did. In fact, when I got the picture from the stranger, I looked at it dozens of times. But being so bluntly confronted by this guy makes me uncomfortable.

“I mean, that’s the first thing you gotta think,” Trevor says. “Your mom was running around with that guy. You were born when? Nine months after he left town? That guy, Dougie, the one your mom dated in high school, his parents requested a DNA test when you were born, which turned out negative. There were other guys, sure, as per the rumors.”

My face catches on fire. I look at my hands, not knowing where to hide my eyes. It’s déjà vu, the way I felt in high school when they bullied me about my mom.

“So that leaves us with a pretty strong possibility,” Trevor says in a voice that’s soft and calm, which is the only thing that keeps me from bursting into tears, “that James Derek Sickler, the one in the picture, the kidnapper, well… He’s potentially your father.”

28

KAREN

The most worrisome part about raising children is not knowing who or what else is part of the process. There’s school, teachers, friends, and neighbors. Strangers—the people you never know who are part of your children’s lives. Whether it’s a predator in an online chatroom or someone at the park your children hang out with. Someone who sells them their first drugs. Or the friend who shares a bottle and suggests taking a drive to a party in the town next door. There are many scenarios, the invisible dangers you wish you had a laser-focused eye for. But you don’t because there are many chapters in your children’s lives, and you are only one of them.

Alysha was independent way too early. She and Victoria. All I could do was keep an eye on them as much as possible.

That afternoon, after having my chat with Alysha, I got ready for work, slammed the front door shut loudly, turned on my car, then tiptoed back into the house and stood in the hallway, eavesdropping.

Alysha got on the phone with Victoria and went ballistic. Crying, having a furious fight. My ears curled at hearing the words coming out of her mouth. You couldn’t shock me with profanity. My best friend was Donna, after all. But that wasn’t how I raised Alysha.

She was angry like a hornet. “V! That stupid cow is lying, and you know it! He would never even come close to her. Like, ugh, seriously?… And Shorty is lying too. All those bitches are… Well, you don’t have to. I’m still in. Yeah, whatever. He wouldn’t lie… Really? Did you really just suggest this? He said he wasn’t married! That she was a psycho! I talked to him yesterday. Yeah, I don’t know who made that shit up. I don’t care. No!… I! Don’t! Care!… Yeah, well, Dougie can piss off. It’s none of his business. He’s pathetic….”

She hung up and called someone else.

“What do you want, Dougie? None of your business. Ugh, just beat it… What? No, can’t be… Whatever… You are lying…”

A long silence followed. I thought she was done with the conversation when I heard her voice again. And she wasn’t talking to Dougie anymore.