Hunting Him

Monique had spent the better part of the last week being angry. Not ordinary angry, either. This was the kind of anger that settled into the bones and made everything else in life seem secondary. It followed her to work. It sat beside her during meals. It waited for her when she came home to the house that had once felt full and now seemed far too quiet.

Michelle was the reason.

More specifically, Michelle's boyfriend was the reason.

Roy.

That was the name her daughter had given her.

Roy.

Monique had known almost nothing about the man when she'd first heard his name. At the time, she hadn't needed to know much. One look at him had been enough to make her blood run cold. An older white man. Overweight. Dating her far-too-young daughter.

A predator.

A groomer.

A pervert taking advantage of a nineteen-year-old woman who was too young and too inexperienced to recognize what was happening.

That was how Monique had seen him at their first introduction. That was how she still saw him a week later.

Michelle, unfortunately, didn't.

The thought made Monique's jaw tighten as she sat behind the wheel of her car, staring at the office building in front of her. How could her daughter not understand? Monique had tried to explain. She had tried to make Michelle see what was obvious. Instead, Michelle had defended him. Worse, she'd looked at Monique as though her own mother was the one who had done something wrong.

That had been what led to the confrontation at the Walmart, where Michelle worked. Monique barely remembered everything she'd said. She remembered the anger. She remembered seeing Michelle standing there in her work uniform and feeling something inside her snap. There had been yelling. Accusations. Words that should never have come out of a mother's mouth.

Slut.

Whore.

The memories made Monique wince. She knew she'd gone too far. But knowing that and being able to apologize were two very different things. Her anger wouldn't let her.

Joe would have known what to say.

That thought came unexpectedly, as it often did. Joe had been good at calming situations down. A good husband. A good father. Maybe too good, sometimes. He'd coddled Michelle, always giving her another chance, always assuming that their daughter knew what she was doing.

Monique had never been so forgiving. Someone had to keep Michelle safe. After Joe died, that responsibility had fallen entirely on her. And at thirty-eight, Monique was still young enough to remember what it had been like to be nineteen herself. She remembered having crushes. Real ones. Intense ones that had seemed like they might consume her entire world.

There had been an English teacher in high school.

Mr. Harris.

Even now, the memory made her smile despite herself. He'd been older, intelligent and kind. Monique had thought he was the most wonderful man she'd ever met. She'd spent weeks imagining what it would be like to marry him. At one point, she'd even practised writing her name with his last name.

But she'd never acted on it. Somewhere beneath all the hormones and teenage fantasies, Monique had understood the difference between having a crush and actually being in a relationship.

That was what Michelle didn't seem to understand. And that was why Monique had needed to find Roy.

The first night Michelle hadn't come home after Monique discovered the relationship, she'd written down everything she could remember about the man. She'd considered calling the police, but there had been no point. Michelle wasn't missing. Monique knew exactly where her daughter was.

With him.

Finding out more about Roy hadn't been easy, but it hadn't been impossible either. His last name had taken some work. A coworker at Walmart had eventually told Monique what she'd overheard Michelle saying about him.

Robinson.

That had been enough. The rest was legwork.

Monique had searched for Roy Robinson in every place she could think of. There had been several men with the same name, which made the process frustrating. One worked at a business across town. Another had a completely different age.

Then she'd found him. Roy Robinson.

The Roy Robinson.

His workplace had been listed online, and once Monique knew where he worked, finding him was only a matter of time. Now she stood in the reception area of his office building, waiting.

Her own life had become harder since Joe's death. Working as a health care aide meant long, unpredictable hours, and the mortgage on the house didn't care whether she'd had a good week or a bad one. Every bill felt heavier with only one income. Yet somehow, she had found the energy to chase this man down.

Because Michelle was worth it.

Her daughter was worth everything.

A receptionist glanced toward her.

"Can I help you?"

"I'm here to see Roy Robinson."

"Do you have an appointment?"

"No."

The receptionist gave her a polite but uncertain smile. Monique folded her arms.

"I'm his daughter's mother."

The lie came easily enough. Of course there was no daughter. Not exactly. Not with him.

The receptionist looked as though she might ask another question.

Then movement caught Monique's attention. A man appeared from somewhere deeper inside the office. Her entire body went rigid.

There he was.

Roy.

The predator.

The man who had wormed his way into her daughter's life.

The man who had ruined Michelle.

Monique felt the anger surge through her all over again. She had imagined this moment many times. She'd imagined confronting him, demanding answers, telling him exactly what she thought of him. Maybe she'd slap him. Maybe she'd scream. Maybe she'd finally make him understand what he'd done to her family. No matter how many times she'd rehearsed it in her head, though, she'd never figured out exactly what she'd say first.

The sight of him made that irrelevant. Roy wasn't alone. A young Asian woman walked beside him. Monique stared. The young woman was holding his hand. How many girlfriends did this slimeball have?

Then something strange happened. For the briefest instant, the world seemed to stumble. The fluorescent lights appeared too bright. The noise of the office seemed to recede. The hair on her arms stood on end. A strange sensation swept through Monique, like she'd forgotten something important and then remembered it all at once.

The anger vanished. Not faded.

Vanished.

In its place came something entirely different. Recognition. Affection. Desire.

Love.

Monique smiled. Of course. There he was.

Roy.

Her Roy.

Her boyfriend.

The realization was so natural that Monique didn't question it. Why would she? This was the man she loved, the man she was devoted to. This was the man she trusted more than anything.

And he was looking straight at her.

His expression changed instantly.

"Shit."

Monique's smile widened. She couldn't imagine why he looked so surprised. Then again, he probably hadn't expected his girlfriend to show up at work.

She couldn't wait to show him that not all surprises were a bad thing.