Chapter Ten
Juniper
“R eena,” the blond god stated quietly before looking at me with piercing green eyes. “You must be Juniper.”
My tongue caught in my throat, or maybe it was hanging on the floor. I didn’t know, but all I could do was stare. Then I remembered I was staring, and fear licked up my spine as I barely nodded at the most frightening yet handsome man I’d ever seen.
All the color drained from Reenie’s face, and she whispered, “What are you doing here?”
The terrifying blond god focused on my best friend and lowered his voice even more. “My brother sent me when he couldn’t get a hold of you. He’s booked you on an earlier flight.”
“H-he did?” Reena stuttered. “O-our phones were stolen.”
My best friend never stuttered. Ever .
I sobered the hell up. Immediately. “Excuse me.” Me and my giant tits plowed past the blond god, and I grabbed my best friend’s hand. “We’re going to the restroom.”
Clueless-fucking-Douchey cut in. “My apologies, but, uh, we don’t have a public restroom.”
I didn’t care. “You do now.” I dragged Reena toward the door to the back room that the douche had used and shoved her through it first, then leaned back to block it. “Okay, start talking. Real talk. Who is that, and why are you terrified of him?”
Reenie shook her head as she stepped back. “I’m not scared, I swear.” She never swore. “I’m just surprised, is all.”
I pointed over my shoulder. “ That is McMoose’s brother?”
She twisted her hands as she looked at the door. “Please stop calling him that.”
I rephrased. “That Greek-god-looking blond man who drips murder from his pores is Charlie’s brother?”
She sucked in a breath and looked away. Then the woman I’d been calling my best friend, the one person who I’d thought had never lied to me but who I’d only known six months, looked back at me and lied again. “Yes.”
“You’re lying,” I accused.
“They’re brothers.”
My buzz gone, only to be replaced with another head-spinning reality, I stared at her. “Reena.”
“Yeah?” She bit her lip.
“I think we should leave right now.” I knew her kind of fear. I knew it like I knew every nightmare that played on repeat when my body finally gave up the ghost and fell into that shit-tastic, overrated realm called sleep.
Reena shook her head and let loose with a seriously fake smile. “I’m fine. We’re not leaving.”
“You are not fine.” And I hadn’t asked if she was, but her volunteering that poorly hidden giant flag of anxiety was all the confirmation I needed that absolutely nothing was fine.
A knock sounded on the door. “Ah, ladies, I think—”
“Move.” Douchey’s voice was cut off by the not-friendly order from the blond god as the door pushed against my back with a force I couldn’t stop.
I stumbled forward, but the blond god caught my arm in a tight grip as he held the door open with one of his impossibly large booted feet. “We’re all set, Reena. It’s time to leave.” He looked at me. “Do you need a ride, Miss Lake?”
He knew my last name?
My fake last name, but still.
“I need to talk to my friend in private.” Pulling out of his grip, I stepped closer to Reena.
Wordlessly, he handed us each our phones. Then he looked pointedly at Reena. “I’ll wait out front. You have two minutes.”
My jaw dropped, but he was already gone, leaving me, Reena and Douchey standing there.
Douchey rubbed the back of his neck. “Ah, you can’t, um, stay back here. It’s against company policy.” His face reddened. “I could lose my job.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. Of course.” Reena hustled us past him and back into the storefront.
There was no sign of the blond god. “Where did he go?”
For a second, she didn’t answer. Holding her new phone with both hands, she stared toward the plate glass windows, looking utterly lost.
I regretted every single shot. My head wasn’t clear, and I needed it to be for this fucked-up situation because I didn’t know what to do. I knew what I wanted to do, what my instincts were screaming at me to do, and that was grab my friend, ditch these new phones immediately, and run.
The problem was, I knew all too well that you couldn’t make someone run. They had to be ready. No, not ready. You never were, not for something like this, but eventually you slam into your nope wall, and you know—you either leave right then or you don’t make it out. Ever.
But I could see it in her eyes. My friend wasn’t looking at her wall. She was on a cliff. “Reena?” I silently chanted, Please don’t jump. Please don’t jump .
She sucked in a sharp breath, then looked at me with that same lost look for a second before she smiled, and I knew. “Everything’s fine.” She shoved her new phone into the pocket of her shorts, then leaned in to hug me. “I’m getting married!” She bubbled with fake enthusiasm. “But I really do have to go now. I don’t want to miss my new flight, and I still have to grab my suitcase from the house.” She pulled back and rubbed my arms vigorously. “I’ll text you. I promise.” Her smile turned brighter than a teeth-whitening commercial. “And you should start dating. Think about getting married one day too. You deserve that. Really!”
“You know I don’t date, and I’m never getting married.” My head was spinning more now than after downing all those shots. “We talked about that, and now you’re officially scaring me. The honeymoon, the not coming back, the super scary blond god—what’s going on, Reena?”
“Nothing, I swear!” She stepped back. “There’s nothing to be scared of, but I really do have to go.” She started walking backwards. “I’m going to get a ride with Charlie’s brother. It’s all good. Are you good? Do you need a ride?” Already halfway to the door, she wasn’t offering me a ride at all.
“Reena, stop.”
She blew me a kiss. “I love you, Juni! I’ll text when I get to the airport. And think about what I said!” One wave and she was plummeting off a cliff of her own design. Pushing out the door, she speedwalked.
I rushed to the front windows, but she was already getting into a sleek black sports car with limo-tint windows.
Her door closed, the engine revved, and they sped off.
It took me five full seconds to realize the car had no plates, and I didn’t know her new cell phone number.
I turned toward Douchey. “What’s her new number?”
“I’m, ah, I’m not supposed to give that out.” The idiot rubbed the back of his neck again. “I’m not allowed to give it out.” He looked at me pleadingly, like he was afraid the blond god would come back and gut him.
I bluffed. “You just witnessed a domestic violence kidnapping.” I prayed I was bluffing. “So you can either call your manager and the police while you pull up the security footage showing how you let us in the back, then let the kidnapper push his way in and grab me, or you can get me that fucking number .”
The second I yelled the last two words, the douche was frantically typing on his tablet and spinning it around as he looked away. “I don’t know anything, man. I just work here.”
I barely had time to glance at the screen and try to memorize the numbers before a couple walked into the store and he yanked the tablet back.
All cheap cologne and douchey smile, he rushed the new customers. “Hey, how’s it going? What can I help you with today?”
Chanting the numbers in my head, I walked out.