CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
After the confrontation in Meg’s kitchen, Mallory drove south into Georgia, knowing the police were looking for her. She went to the first emergency room across the state line, where she got treatment for her broken nose. As soon as her nose was set and bandaged, she snuck out of the hospital, and drove west until dawn. She pulled over at an empty rest stop and removed her license plate, replacing it with one she stole from a parked car on Meg’s street. She checked into a flea-bag roadside motel, where she paid for a two night’s stay with cash and registered under a false name.
After checking out, she drove west until she reached Reno, where she was able to purchase some false identification and a burner cell phone. She got a job at a bar that didn’t ask too many questions about her background, and was happy to pay her in cash.
When it was slow at the bar, she made it clear to her male customers that her body was available in exchange for “a special tip”. Each time she brought a man back to the cheap motel room she called home, she offered it up to the only thing that mattered to her – finding Sky Johnson and convincing him that she was the woman for him.
One night after work, Mallory stopped into a convenience store to check out the latest gossip magazines. She bought one that had a cover story about the upcoming ACM awards, and brought it back to her hotel room.
She carefully tore the article about ACM nominations out of the magazine, and placed it in a scrapbook with all the other photos and articles about the Johnson Bishop Band. “He’ll be in Vegas for sure, because they’re nominated in three categories.”
She caught a glance at her reflection in the hotel room mirror, still surprised whenever she saw herself with dark hair and glasses. “He likes brunettes anyway, it seems,” she said aloud about her disguise.
Three days before the ACM awards, Mallory packed her few belongings into the trunk of her car, and went to work at the bar in Reno for the last time. After closing, she brought a drunken patron back to her motel room, where she gave him a blow job. Once he passed out on the bed, she rifled through his pockets, found his wallet, and removed all the cash, stuffing it in her purse.
The seven hour drive south to Las Vegas was monotonous. The only thing that kept her awake was the music on the radio, and the photo of Sky Johnson taped to her dashboard. Each time a Johnson Bishop song came on, Mallory sang along. “I’ll be with you in just a few days, Sky. I’m coming for you.” She thought of the woman, Meg, who Sky had been dating, and rubbed her nose. “I’m coming for you, too, Meg. My revenge will be so sweet,” she said with a cackle.
When she arrived in Las Vegas, she scouted out the area around the ACM awards venue. She walked around, asking workers about the red carpet arrivals, and learned where members of the public could watch their favorite performers arrive for the awards show. Each worker she talked to warned her to arrive early in order to get a prime viewing spot. “I’ll be sure to do that,” she said to each person she spoke with.
On the morning of the awards show, Mallory woke early. She went to a coffee shop for a quick breakfast, then returned to her motel in order to shower and get ready. She dressed in light clothing for the hot, sunny, dry day. As she reached for her boots, her eye caught the two scrap books on the nightstand.
She picked up the scrapbook on top first. The cover page had a photo of Sky with his arm draped around her from the Bowling Green concert meet and greet session. She smiled, remembering the thrill of him taking her back to the Johnson Bishop tour bus after the concert and making love to her.
Flipping the page, she ran her fingers over the next meet and greet photo of her and Sky from the following night in Lexington, and the meet and greet passes and concert tickets she had preserved under plastic. She paged through the rest of the scrapbook, pausing to look at more photos of Sky that she had cut out from magazines and newspapers. “Oh, Sky,” she sighed. “In a few short hours, you’ll be all mine.”
She picked up the other scrapbook and began paging through it. Her brows wrinkled as she looked over the pages of photographs of Meg, and articles about Meg and Sky’s relationship. “What do you see in her, Sky? You should be with me, not her.”
Mallory stared at a clipping from a tabloid with a photo of Sky and Meg as they left Kayne Prime a few months earlier. She spoke aloud in a sing-song voice. “What is it like to be you, Meg? How does it feel to have him touch you night after night? What do you have that I don’t?” She stared at the photo, and began to shake as the rage inside her boiled over. Reaching for her pocket knife, she repeatedly slashed through Meg’s image until she felt calm again. “Time to say bye-bye, Meg. It’s over for you.”
She checked her hair and makeup in the mirror, and smiled at her reflection. “Time to claim what’s mine,” she said, as she loaded a small handgun and slipped it down the side of one of her cowboy boots.