Page 103 of A Little Luck
A burlap sack sits beside an old coal chute in the corner, and I walk over to see if it’s hiding something. It’s not, but an old grate is under the chute.
Dropping to a squat, I thread my fingers in the metal weave and move it away.
“Oh!” I fall back on my ass when the barrel of a rifle appears, followed by the click of a gun cocking. “Mom! Don’t shoot—it’s me!”
Picking up my phone, I shine the light into the small space to see my mom holding a rifle, glittering eyes focused. I turn my phone so the light illuminates my face, and the gun lowers.
“Piper.” She motions me inside the smaller hole. “What are you doing here?”
I crawl inside and sit in front of her. “I could say as much to you. How long have you been down here?”
She turns on an electric lantern, and I see a sleeping bag in the corner, a few jars of food, and a small cooler. Her long hair hangs down her back in a single braid, and she’s dressed in Army-green fatigues and a puffer coat.
“How was the wedding? I’m sorry I missed it. Did everyone have a nice time?”
I can’t believe she’s acting like this isn’t completely insane. “Mom! You’re underground. Who cares about the wedding?”
“Well, it was a big deal to you and the girls.” She shrugs. “And you never liked talking about any of this.”
“You never went missing for a week.”
“It hasn’t been a week.”
“Care to fill me in on what’s happening?” I lift the lid on the cooler and peek inside to see soft drinks and a yogurt. “Last I checked, there’s no flesh-eating fungus or zombies attacking.”
She exhales heavily, placing the gun across her lap. “I don’t know how to tell you this, Piper, but technically, I’m not a survivalist.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I let you believe what you wanted because I didn’t want to frighten you, and well… maybe it was easier that way.”
“Mom.” I take her hand. “The thought of a zombie apocalypse or an alien invasion or a planet-destroying virus is pretty terrifying to a ten-year-old.”
Her slim brow furrows over her pale blue eyes. “I don’t think Ryan finds it terrifying.”
“Because I told him it was your special, top-secret game. I made it a fun adventure.” She exhales a dismissive note, but I’m done with hiding. “What’s going on?”
“Your stepfather has come to town.” She shakes her head. “Of course, the minute you get comfortable, the minute you think the monster is gone and you could possibly live a normal life, he appears like one of those horror villains, Michael or Jason or the other one.”
“Time out.” I hold up my hands. “I have a stepfather? Why am I just now hearing about him?”
“You didn’t need to hear about him.” Her lips are tight. “You were too small to remember, and I chose a different life for us. I chose not to live with a man who was controlling and abusive, and I got us out of there.”
An abusive stepfather?What the hell?It’s like I’m waking from a long dream… And yet, at the same time, I can’t help wondering if this sort of thing is hereditary. Are we genetically predisposed to fall for evil men?
“Is your name Rosie McClure?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “I put that name away a long time ago. I’m Martha Jackson now. It’s on my driver’s license, and that’s all that matters.”
“But who am I?”
“You’re Piper Jackson, publisher of theEureka Gazetteand mother to Ryan.” She lifts her chin as if she’s announcing I won a major award.
I exhale, looking down at my hands. What do I do with all of this? “Can you at least tell me what happened?”
Her chin lowers slowly, and she looks down at her hands. Short fingernails, no polish. “I was a young single mother barely making ends meet when Ethan appeared. He was rich… not particularly handsome, but I was more interested in a home, security… I didn’t trust my instincts telling me he was dangerous.”
“So you did at least pick up on that?”