Ugly As Sin Read Online Free

his ’93 Bronco with the terminally ill transmission, as the first rays of sunlight peeked above the horizon. His destination: the 24-Hour Grocery Outlet. He needed to pick up some toilet paper, a box of Corn Flakes and some milk, maybe a six-pack of Michelob if he had a few bucks left over. Nick always planned such trips for early in the morning or late at night. It reduced the gawking, he had learned from experience. The regulars, he could handle: the bored stares of a few red-eyed stock boys stinking of sweat and marijuana, the sad-faced single mothers working the cash registers with hickeys on their necks and tattoos like JUSTIN’S GIRL barely concealed beneath their sleeves. Some of these folks he even knew by name. They weren’t the same employees every time, but they might as well have been. Nick assumed the graveyard crew had seen stranger sights than him lurching through their store. Maybe.
    When he first spotted the kid this morning, his instincts had warned him: Ignore it . No good could come of striking up a conversation. He had never liked children anyway. Doubtful he would have noticed this one if not for the boy’s loud sniffling; any time he went out these days, Nick wore sunglasses and a hooded sweatshirt, which helped hide his face from the rest of the world but it killed his peripheral vision.
    The kid was four or five years old. He wore an Incredible Hulk T-shirt that was stained all over with something matching the color of his favorite hero’s flesh.
    “Where’s my mommy?” he sobbed.
    Nick approached the child against his better judgment. “Hey there. You lost? It’s okay, son. We’ll find your mama.”
    The instant the brat saw what lurked within that colossal reaper’s cowl, he started screeching at the top of his lungs.
    It was the most nerve-wracking sound the big man had ever heard. It made his teeth hurt.
    “Aww, shit.”
    “ Mommy! Somebody help me! It’s...a monster !”
    A moment later, the misplaced mommy in question stumbled around the corner, her trailer-park high heels clicking out a white-trash rhythm on the store’s recently polished floor.
    When she saw Nick standing over her son, her mouth stretched into a wide black “O.” She slapped at his chest with her massive pink pocketbook, demanding to know what he was doing to her beloved Billy Junior. Was he some kinda kiddie-lovin’ pervert? He sure looked like a weirdo, weren’t no doubt about that.
    “Somebody call nine-one-one!” her voice echoed through the store. “I think he tried to touch my boy!”
    Nick didn’t wait around to hear more.
    He ran. Collided with a Cheez-Its display. Boxes flew everywhere, an avalanche of red and orange. In retrospect, he supposed his clumsy getaway made him appear guilty of something , but his only concern had been getting the hell out of there.
    To top off everything else, once he reached his Bronco in the parking lot she teased him for a minute before starting (“Come on, you twat,” Nick growled, “don’t do this to me”). Took him four tries before she caught.
    Nope, it certainly had not been his favorite morning ever.
     
    †
     
    The second he walked through the door of his apartment following his ill-fated trip to the grocery store, his phone rang.
    He almost didn’t answer it. But he welcomed this opportunity to take out his anger on an early-bird telemarketer or some asswipe with a wrong number.
    The last thing Nick expected to hear was that single word on the other end of the line: “...Daddy?”
     
    †
     
    He fell into his recliner. Fell into it hard. Swallowed a fist-sized lump in his throat. It went down, but got stuck somewhere around his heart.
    Six years had passed since the last time he’d heard that voice. It had been nearly twice as long since he’d seen her in person.
    “Melissa?”
    She was his only child. Well, the only one he knew about. In that respect, his life on the road had been similar to a rock star’s. He remembered the ring rats