* * *

Present:

“I’m sorry, sir. She refused to stay outside,” Roger Parish’s secretary says once I push my way inside. Jansen is behind me. I’m surprised he’s allowing me to take the lead here, but he is. Maybe he understands this is something I need to do. He’s always let me spread my wings and be who I am, but he’s always had my back, too. It’s just one of the many reasons I love him like I do.

“Well, look what dragged herself out of the gutter to come visit,” says Roger at his desk. “Sorry, Peace Lily, my days of slumming are over. Besides, I like my women younger now.”

“You always did. But then I know that better than anyone, don’t I, Roger?”

His face tightens and goes red with anger. “You need to leave before I have you thrown in jail with that no good son of mine.”

“I take it you haven’t heard your son has gone missing?” I ask him.

He looks up at me, his gaze locks with mine, and the one thing I notice above anything else is that there’s not an ounce of surprise on his face.

“Maybe he finally got wise and untangled himself from that piece of—”

“Before you say something to insult my daughter, I feel it only fair to warn you that I have a 22 pistol in this purse I’m carrying. I have it aimed right at your balls, and I have an itchy trigger finger.”

“You’re lying. There are metal detectors,” he states, but I can see the worry on his face.

“Try me. Now I suggest you tell your secretary here to leave.”

“I—”

“Unless you would rather she hear everything we have to discuss. She might enjoy hearing about the latest visit I had with my attorney.”

“I can’t for the life of me imagine why.” The asshole smirks at me as if he doesn’t have a care in the world.

“She might find it interesting. I sure did, and I already knew the beginning of the story. I’ll be glad to tell her though,” I hedge, waiting to see if he takes the bait.

“Abigail, leave,” he barks.

I don’t smile. This is just phase one of my plan. I have to keep a clear head here if I’m going to get victory over Roger Parish once and for all… and I have to. It’s more important now than it ever was.

“Sir?”

“I said leave!” He yells the order. “And see to it I’m not disturbed!”

“Yes, sir,” the secretary says nervously, then quickly leaves the room.

For a minute, none of us say anything. I can’t be sure what Jansen is doing because I don’t want to take my eyes away from Roger. The quickest way to end up dead is to turn your attention away from an enemy when they’re ready to go for the kill shot. I can’t give him the opportunity.

“Alright, Lily love, why don’t we cut the bullshit and you tell me why you’re here?” he prompts me, as if he doesn’t have a care in the world nor any idea why I would show up here.

His use of my old name makes me sick to my stomach. He’s one of the main reasons I went back to the legal name my grandparents made sure was on my birth certificate. The memory of him groaning out the name I once loved as he violated me will haunt me the rest of my life. Ida Sue more than suits me now. His use of that name is what spurs me into action like nothing else could. I forget my nerves and focus on the hate and the need for this meeting. I pull my gun all the way out of my purse, letting the purse fall to the sofa beside me.

“Call me that again, Roger, and I’ll turn you from stud to a gelding so fast you won’t have time to blink.”

“Always so crass. I’m suddenly remembering why I liked to stuff other things into that mouth of yours. Do you remember that, Lily?”

“Lovey—” Jansen growls warningly. It’s killing him not to end Roger Parish right now, and I really wish I could let him. But that’s not what makes the most sense right now.

“Not right now, honey,” I tell him, keeping my gun and eyes trained on Roger.

“Is that the kind of men you prefer now, Lily? Ones you can lead around by their… nose?”

“Enough small talk, Roger. You know why I’m here. I don’t know what you’ve done with Luka, but I want him found. I want him back on my farm, and I want every charge you’ve trumped up against him dropped.”

“Since when has my son became any concern of yours?”

“Since the moment I decided that somehow the good Lord saw fit that Luka turn out to be a good man despite the rooster who spawned him.”

“He’s nothing but a disappointment.” Roger shrugs.

“That’s what you would see. You don’t need to worry about him anymore, though, because I’ve decided to adopt him as one of mine, and you’ll never get the chance to be around him ever again.”

“Whatever. I grow tired of your games, Lily. I don’t know where Luka is, and even if I did, why would I do one thing you’ve asked?”

“Because if you don’t, you will find the state police at your office door in the morning with a warrant for your arrest,” I answer.

He tries to hide it, but I see the exact moment uncertainty flashes on his face. For the first time since I came up with this damned plan, I breathe just a little bit easier.

“How could you possibly arrange that?”

“After visiting with my lawyer, I found out something very interesting.”

“I can’t imagine what it would be,” he says, trying to sound bored.

“Most things in law, you have a statute of limitations. Were you aware of that?”

“Please, don’t try to school me when it comes to the law, Lily. I’m the one with degrees.”

“True, you always did have all kinds of book sense, just not a load of common sense. But just to hurry this along…”

“I would appreciate that.”

“Mostly because I’m starting to smell you and remember how sick that makes me,” I add, and I can see he doesn’t like my insult. His hand visibly shakes with the need to slap me. I see it, but somehow he resists, which is a shame. If he had hit me, maybe my finger would have slipped off the trigger. The 22 pistol is not ideal, and was almost too long to fit in my purse. A smaller gun would have been more ideal but is nowhere near as comfortable in my hand.

“Get on with it, Lily. I’m growing bored.”

“Turns out, for sexual assault—rape—there’s no statute of limitations. I could have you arrested today or twenty years from now. Time is irrelevant.”

“You’re forgetting one thing, Lily.”

“What would that be?”

“You have to prove you were raped.”

“I don’t think that will be a problem.”

“Are you kidding me? Really, Lily, if you’re going to come at me, at least make it sporting. It’s been, what… thirty years? You really think you can cry rape after all this time? You’re even more pathetic than I thought you were.”

“You convinced me all those years ago no one would listen to me. Remember, Roger? How you lorded over the fact that you had money and breeding and I was just a whore people made fun of?”

“I remember every delicious detail, Lily. I relive it and jack off to it sometimes when I’m bored. Does that make you feel better? To know I haven’t forgotten you? I’ve even thought of giving your daughter a whirl. If I close my eyes, I’ll imagine she’s you back before gravity and age destroyed your body.”

“Lovey, I’m about done staying silent,” warns Jansen.

“I was sixteen and scared,” I continue, “but you left a trail, Roger. Some girls even thought they could fight you. Do you remember Starla? Or the butcher’s daughter Lana?”

That question stops the sneering look of control and victory on his face cold. I even think I see a flash of fear, and it’s funny how that one look on his face can empower me, but it does. I’ve spent my life trying to ingrain it into my kids that you let no one hold you down or make you feel powerless. It’s time I take those lessons to heart.

“Bitches who go snooping where they don’t belong have a strange way of ending up dead, Lily.”

“Like Lana did? The police never did find out who hit her that night or what she was doing out on old Mill Pond Road, did they? But then, there was talk the county dropped the investigation because of pressure from higher up. Strange, right?”

“It was an unfortunate accident, and one the county couldn’t afford to waste more resources on. You should learn from Lana’s mistakes and not do stupid things. Never know what might happen.” There’s so much hate on Roger’s face, it’s coming off of him in waves now—but oddly enough, the old fear I had where he was concerned seems to be missing.

“Why, Roger, that sounded like a threat.”

“Maybe just a friendly warning,” he shrugs.

“Then maybe you can say it a little louder so Jansen’s device can record it again. You know, just so I can replay it later.”

“His… You, bitch!”

“Sticks and stones.” I shrug, backing away and picking my purse up as I go, holding my gun on him so he doesn’t move. “You have until ten in the morning to have the charges dropped, and Luka better show up unharmed or trust me when I tell you, Roger, it is you who will regret it.”

“I—”

“I’m not the scared little girl I used to be. Not by a longshot. You don’t believe me, you go ahead and try me,” I warn him. “Jansen, let’s go.”

“You’re done now?” Jansen asks patiently, dropping the recording device into my purse.

“More than done,” I tell him, just anxious to leave now and try and find clean air to breathe in. This air around Roger Parish feels like anything but clean.

“That makes one of us,” he growls, and before I can ask him not to, before I can even blink, he’s on Roger and is slamming his fists into him repeatedly. I think Roger tries to fight back, but he’s not a match for Jansen—he’s not even close. Jansen delivers body blow after body blow, and I’m watching, but I don’t know what to say. I don’t ask him to stop, and maybe that makes me a bad guy, but I’m enjoying it. Every hit Jansen delivers feels like vindication. Eventually, Jansen stops when Roger is barely moving and covered in his own blood with his face swollen. He’s breathing as if he has broken ribs. He probably does.

I take a few steps to look at Jansen who is standing over Roger—who happens to be a crumpled mess on the floor. Jansen is breathing hard. The only blood on him is from his knuckles, which are a little raw from delivering blow after blow to Roger.

“You’re ready now?” I ask. I love Jansen like I’ve never loved anyone in my life. I’ve always wanted him, but right now, I’m pretty sure he’s the only man on the planet in my mind. He’s everything.

“I’m ready. Let’s go home, Lovey,” he says, putting his hand at the small of my back to try and turn me towards the door. I resist, but only so I can spit on the lump of crap that is Roger Parish.

“I’ll expect my wishes carried out by ten tomorrow morning. If they’re not, I’ve already left instructions with my attorney,” I tell him again before turning to leave.

I’m prepared to call him out with my threats. I just hope like hell that Luka is back in the morning and I don’t have to.