Darkness at the Edge of Town (Iris Ballard #2)(22)

Until Paul Keyes.

We met at a track competition when we were fourteen and kept seeing each other at track events throughout the season. He was cute as I tended to like them—tall and thin, with brown hair and eyes and a bright smile. He knew I was a Ballard bastard, but it wasn’t until our third meeting that I realized he was the son of Joshua Keyes, one of my sperm donor’s business partners. He was also one of Merrill’s friends from prep school, and if the venomous looks she gave me the few times we inhabited the same space, like at Paul’s birthday or his school dances, were any indication, Paul was one of her crushes as well. The moment we began dating the rumors began to circulate nonstop. I was a thief. I cheated on every test. I let the basketball team run a train on me at a party. I didn’t let the bombardment get to me, and no one really believed her. Then I had to go and give her something true to spread around town like the town crier.



I had an abortion at sixteen.

No, I absolutely do not regret it. No, it did not traumatize me even for a day. No, I am still not ashamed, nor do I think it was the selfish choice. I was poor, sixteen, and two months away from taking the GED and starting college. There wasn’t even a question of me keeping the baby. I’d made up my mind the moment I suspected I was pregnant, and Paul didn’t hide his relief when I told him my choice. He did offer to marry me if I wanted to keep the baby on the drive to the clinic, but that was just because I was visibly nervous about the procedure itself.

He was a good guy, Paul Keyes. I certainly lucked out in the first-love department. He even paid for the procedure and stayed with me all day afterward. Unfortunately, he was too damn trusting. He told his best friend, Simon, what happened, who then told his girlfriend, who told Merrill, who then enlisted the girlfriend to find the receipt. With actual physical proof, Merrill and her posse spread the news everywhere. They told the school administrators they were afraid I was suicidal because of what I’d done and my mother and grandparents, who hadn’t known about the abortion, had to come in for a meeting. We had local pastors and priests calling the house because people had called them concerned about my immortal soul. People on the streets, in the grocery store, even at my job at the police station looked at me sideways. One of my grandfather’s hunting “friends” even called me a whore and baby killer right to my face. Grandpa cold-cocked the bastard and hunted alone for two years. Paul and I ended a week after.



Once again I was deep down Memory Lane when I saw Merrill emerge from the Starbucks bathroom.

“Of course,” I muttered to myself as she walked toward her minions.

Billy and I may have been twins, but Merrill and I actually looked like siblings. We were the same height and build, and had the same eye color and face shape. We could have been twins, except I thankfully got Mom’s nose and lips, and Merrill dyed her hair blond. Her nose did resemble mine—but hers was man made.

My first instinct was to flee, forget the bribe or wait until later, but that thought made me pissed at myself. I’d been in showdowns with serial killers yet my insecure half-sister sends me running for the hills? Hell no. And it wasn’t as if I were still that teenager with no money, no backup, and no power. So I looked up and stared right at her. It wasn’t until she was five feet away that she noticed me. The expression of pure shock and horror was almost worth the whole trip to Grey Mills.

Rachel noticed her friend suddenly become a statue and glanced back to find the cause. Her mouth flopped open when she realized who I was. “Holy…shit! Iris Ballard?” Rachel asked.

The four others turned to gawk too. More wide eyes and floppy mouths, all except Merrill. She moved toward her friends looking like she’d just sucked a lemon.



“Hello,” I said to my new fan club.

“Oh, my God,” Rachel said with a smile. “It’s really you! It’s Rachel Gardner—well, Rachel Carville now. I married Sawyer Carville.”

“I remember you and Sawyer both.” He was one of Paul’s friends, the one who hit on me more than once. “It’s good to see you again.” My gaze whipped to the now smirking Merrill. “Hello, Merrill. You’re looking very…” I just let it hang there. Her lip twitched up in disgust. One–nil.

“What are you doing in Grey Mills?” Rachel asked.

“Just visiting the family before I have to lock myself in my house to write my autobiography. I’m only here for a few days, though. I’d hate to have to give back the million my publisher paid me because I can’t meet the deadline.”

“A million dollars?” one of the women asked.

“Yep.”

“An autobiography? Don’t forget to include your abortion in it,” I heard Merrill say to one of her friends, who sniggered.

“I would include, it Merrill, but the book’s exclusively about how I brought Dr. Shepherd to justice before he could slaughter any other women,” I said with a smug smile.

“Last I checked murdering a man isn’t justice,” Merrill countered.

“It was self-defense, not murder. He was about to shoot me. There is a giant difference between fighting back and starting the conflict in the first place because you feel like shit about yourself and need to take that out on others.”



Merrill stared down at the ground. Two–nil.

“God, that must have been so terrifying,” Rachel said. “I can’t even imagine.”