Page 139 of Finally Mine
“Something like that,” she admitted. “See, I’m moving on. Sometimes in order to do that, you have to remember where you came from.”
“You’ll always remember me,” Glenn said darkly.
“I will. But probably not the way you want.”
“I fed you. I put a roof over your head. This is the thanks I get?”
It was an old song, and Gloria didn’t feel like dancing anymore. “You beat me. You tried to break me. Maybe you didn’t know any better. Maybe you’re just a sad, broken product of your childhood. But you were never my problem to fix.”
“I’m no victim.” He stared at her through the glass, anger flashing briefly in his eyes. He looked so much older than his age. Ancient really.
Gloria gave a small smile. “Neither am I. We’re both responsible for our choices. You don’t get to hurt me anymore.”
“You think you’re going to run off and be happy with someone else?” he snorted.
“Actually, I’m going to be happy on my own and then run off with someone else.”
He sneered at her, taking another drag from the cigarette. “Just remember who touched you first. Who owned you first. You’ll never forget me!”
“I think it’s you who won’t forget me. Me and that cast-iron frying pan.”
He coughed, a brutal hacking sound. “Someone should teach you a lesson,” he hissed.
“Well, that someone isn’t going to be you anymore. I’m walking out of here today, and you will never see me again. I’m not afraid of you anymore.”
He slapped a big hand to the window. “Big talk coming from someone on the other side of bulletproof glass.”
“Goodbye, Glenn.” She started to rise, started to replace the receiver.
“Wait! Wait!” She could hear the words from the phone, see the urgency as he mouthed them through the glass. “Don’t go. Don’t leave. I’m sorry!”
The definition of insanity, Gloria thought.
“I wasn’t there to kill you.”
His words were clear as day. She snatched the receiver back. “What did you say?”
“I wasn’t there to kill you. I was put up to it. I was supposed to kill your blonde friend. He paid my bail. You’re mine, Gloria. I would never hurt you like that. You have to believe me.”
“You were there for Harper?”
Glenn nodded his bloated head. “Her foster dad or some shit’s in here. She put him in here. He wanted to put her in the ground. But you gotta believe I’d never do that to you. I told the cops everything. You’re mine. I take care of what’s mine.”
With disgust and pity, Gloria stared at him one last time. “I’m not yours. I never was.”
She hung up and, without a look back, walked out of the visitation room, oblivious to the guards rushing him as he railed against the glass.
She’d crossed one Diller off her list. But there was a second one that was a constant reminder of her ugly past. What could she do about Mrs. Diller? The restraining order was good for a while. But they shared a town. Would she have to see this woman for the rest of her life and be reminded forever?
Gloria pulled up in front of the little clapboard house still not sure what she was doing. She could offer her money if the woman promised not to try to act out any Glenn-fueled revenge. But the thousand dollars she’d saved seemed like it wasn’t enough. Perhaps she could at least buy a temporary truce. Some purchased goodwill.
The weeds of summer had shriveled up and died in the first lick of winter, leaving behind colorless corpses against the front porch and sidewalk. There was a For Sale sign with a bright, bold Sold sticker. A pile of boxes towered on the front porch, and a new-ish sedan was parked in the gravel driveway.
Mrs. Diller’s puke green Buick was nowhere to be found.
Gloria debated for a moment and slid out from behind the wheel. She knocked and shoved her hands in the pockets of her coat, hunching her shoulders against the cold.
The inner door opened, and Mrs. Diller glared at her. “You can tell your boyfriend I’m leaving tomorrow,” the woman snapped.
