Free A Strange There After by Missy Fleming Page A

guard.
“What’s it like? Living here with your ex-boyfriend? I mean, he’s
stuck because of you, orbiting around your sun.”
    Catherine folded her arms across her chest,
wrinkling her nose. “You’re assuming I think about him at all.
Jason is the only man I need.” She indicated the laptop. “And most
people think we’re quite the pair.”
    With a tentative step forward, suspecting a
trap, I focused on the images. It was pictures of Catherine and
Jason from various Hollywood gossip sites. In each one they were
smiling or laughing or gazing at the other with visible emotion.
And every single one hurt. They looked so happy, so glamorous. The
pictures had been taken all around town, in front of local
restaurants, by the river, on the set of his movie. I hadn’t
realized Catherine and Jason were together so much. A hot lump of
sadness formed in my throat, but I swallowed it down. I couldn’t
let her see how negatively this affected me.
    “Can you believe some of these so-called
journalists are calling me a ‘simple country bumpkin’? How dare
they! Savannah is certainly no backwoods town. It’s a thriving
city, always has been. In 1865 it was a jewel of the South.” She
pursed her lips. “Well, mostly because it was one of the only
cities unburned by that bastard Sherman.”
    I gaped at her. “Seriously? You spend your
days standing around worrying about what people on the internet are
saying about you? I don’t believe this. You do realize how stupid
it sounds, right?”
    “Oh, please, like you never fretted about
what his peers thought of you. Don’t be a hypocrite. I know you
did. Besides, I have to care, for Jason’s sake.” She huffed out a
frustrated breath. “These reporters are animals. Shoving and
shouting, all in competition to get the best photo. It truly is
madness.”
    Her reply and the absurdity of the situation
stumped me. There were much more important things going on. I
didn’t have the luxury of trolling websites and dodging
photographers. Instead of attacking her about Jason, I honed in on
Jackson.
    “Did you ever truly love Jackson?”
    Her face, the one so familiar to me,
softened. “I was young, full of silly dreams. People change.”
Impatience crept in, and she snapped at me. “You’re making the
mistake of assuming I care what you do. I have what I intended—a
second chance and a life of my own.” Her nose wrinkled. “You and
your silly friends are grasping at empty air. I consider your
incessant questions nothing but a bug buzzing in my ear, annoying
and easily squashed.”
    My eyebrows shot up. “If everything is so
perfect, Catherine, haven’t you wondered why I’m here? If you
supposedly got all you desired, shouldn’t I be gone? Are you
willing to risk the possibility that I can find a way to do to you
exactly what you did to me?”
    “I’m not convinced you have what it
takes.”
    “But I do. He’s offered me the same
thing you were. How do you feel about that? What happens then, when
he has someone new to serve him?”
    My skin crawled using the word ‘serve’, but
it was the best description I had. As I waited for her to answer, I
prayed she didn’t call my bluff. My statement sounded more
confident than I felt. I watched with satisfaction as a flash of
fear sparked in her eyes.
    “You have no idea what it cost to get where I
am. I hope you never have to.”
    With that, she fled the room, leaving a
million more questions in her wake. Blowing out a frustrated
breath, I slumped against the counter, studiously ignoring the open
computer. I wanted to break it, to erase the images from my mind
forever. Would I have looked as relaxed and carefree in the
pictures?
    No, concentrate, I chided myself.
    Finding out more from Catherine wouldn’t be
easy. I wanted to know if she truly felt remorse, if she ever
regretted taking this entity up on his offer. Was living my life
worth all the pain and misery she’d caused? Did she ever get
scared, like me?
    My