Chapter 8 – Betsy
CHAPTER EIGHT
BETSY
Choosing to stay inside, I don’t leave the house for four days.
I have called and checked in with Mor and Eden—as requested, or demanded, I guess—and given them updates on how the search is going.
However, every time I feel like I’m one step closer, something else crops up that puts me two steps back.
Fed up and craving peanut butter ice cream, I decide to take a break from staring at my laptop and go to the grocery store.
Anxiety flutters around my stomach at the thought of leaving the safety of my house.
Standing in my bedroom, I stare at my mirror reflection.
I’m wearing a pair of cut-off jean shorts and a man’s Metallica tank top loosely tucked into the waistband.
The neckline and armhole hang a little low, revealing hints of my bra, and my hair is piled up in a messy bun on top of my head.
I grab my platform high-top Converse and put them on, deciding to ride my bike without my leathers, as it’s only down the block and quicker than walking.
Plus, if I were to walk, my ice cream would be a shake by the time I made it home.
I grab my keys and head to the garage, pressing the button for the door to open as I climb on my bike.
After starting the engine, I place my helmet on.
God knows what state my hair will be in once I reach the grocery store, but who cares.
It’s too hot to have it down, and too hot for me to give a shit about what I look like.
I rev my bike, grinning to myself. Man, it feels good to be on my bike.
I pull out onto the drive, forcing myself not to look next door.
They have been the usual twats these last few days with nuisance mail, loud parties, and dumping their trash at the end of my drive.
Thankfully, the lap dog that has been on watch saw to that.
I keep myself in my room with my own loud music playing on my headphones, drowning them out as much as I can.
I was tired, but I figured I can get a good night’s sleep when I find out who is behind these threats.
As I pull onto the road, I spot the lap dog sitting in the van.
I give him a little wave, and he smiles in return, starting up the van.
I stop beside him. “No, it’s okay. I’m just going to the grocery store.
If I’m not back in twenty minutes, then come looking for me.
Plus, I would rather you keep an eye on my house and make sure my dickhead neighbours don’t throw toilet paper at it or some shit. ”
“But orders are to follow you and to make sure you are safe,” he counters.
“And you are, by making sure those guys…” I say, gesturing with my thumb behind me.
“Don’t do some stupid shit to my house. The last time they put a dead animal in there.
So, believe me, you staying watch over my house is for the best,” I assure him.
He looks reluctant to agree, but he sighs and gives me a slight nod.
“Fine, twenty minutes,” he agrees.
My grin widens. “Awesome. I will make sure to big you up to Eden. I’m sure she can reward you in some way,” I state.
“Tell her Josh helped you,” he states eagerly.
I roll my eyes. Eden is just as bad as what Mor used to be. “Sure thing, stud. I will sing your praise to the heavens for ya.” I laugh. Slapping my hand twice on the side of the van before riding off, I feel good for the first time in days.
I pull into the parking lot of the grocery store and park up, finding a spot that’s shaded under the trees.
There is nothing worse than sitting on a boiling hot black leather seat.
I remove my helmet and take a quick look at myself in one of my mirrors, noticing that I have hair going in all directions.
“Fuck it.” I shrug before walking off across the parking lot and into the cool air-conditioned store.
I grab a basket, just in case I spot anything else I fancy, and as I browse, I decide to grab myself some ramen to have for my dinner, as well as some candy.
The sugar is helping me to keep going with the lack of sleep.
However, as I walk down the freezer aisle, looking for the ice cream section, a voice has me halting to a stop.
“Hello, little gremlin.”
I exhale a deep breath before spinning on my heel and turning to face Archer. I look him up and down, a mask of indifference on my face. “Is my gun not enough of a warning for you to stay away?” I quip.
The corner of his mouth twitches. “I’m in a public space, so you can’t shoot me here,” he counters.
“Want to bet?” I smile, pushing my glasses up my nose before spinning back around to get my ice cream and get home. I spot the ice cream section and begin to browse for the peanut butter ice cream, but when I finally spot the shelf, I see it’s empty. I tut, annoyed.
“Oh, were you wanting this?” Archer goads next to me. I turn my gaze to him to see him holding up the last tub of peanut butter ice cream.
MOTHER FUCKER! I scream internally. I try to keep my expression neutral and unbothered that he has the one thing I wanted.
“Why do you live to torment me?” I sigh.
He shrugs, placing the peanut butter ice cream back in his basket. “You make it fun.”
“Fun?” I counter. “You find it fun to see me upset and pissed off? Why?” I press, furrowing my brows.
He looks at me in a way that has me shifting uncomfortably. “I don’t like seeing you upset,” he states in such a way that it almost has me believing him.
“Pfft,” I snort, rolling my eyes. “Look, dude, I don’t know what planet you’re on, but you enjoy my misery.”
“I fucking don’t,” he argues firmly.
I chuckle. “Okay, sure, whatever. Listen, this has been fun, really. I’m just glad I will be walking away from you not hurt, angry, or crying this time,” I rant as I turn to walk away.
Archer moves quickly, standing in front of me. “I made you cry?” he asks, his eyes looking like a mixture of pain and anger.
I blink. I hadn’t meant to say that. I didn’t want him knowing he had made me cry.
Goddamn, this man just rattles me. “No,” I lie, lifting my chin and pushing my shoulders back, forcing myself to meet his gaze.
I swallow as his intense emerald gaze crashes through the barriers I have up.
I swallow and look away. “Just leave me alone,” I state softly, my voice a weak whisper.
I turn and leave, dumping my basket of food on the floor, and stride outside towards my bike.
Putting my helmet on as I go, I chance a look at the entrance, making sure he’s not following me. Relieved I don’t see him, I start my bike up and get out of there and head home, speeding faster than I should without my leathers on. My moment of enjoyment is now dead and ruined thanks to Archer.
Once I’m home, I decide to head straight to the shower, feeling pissed off that I didn’t get my ice cream and annoyed I didn’t get the rest either. Why has he always got to be there to ruin a good day? More importantly, why do I always let him ruin my day?
Standing under the cool water of the shower, I sigh.
Just that short trip outside had me sweating.
I wash my body, not bothering to wash my hair.
“Such a fucking jerk,” I mutter to myself, still reeling about the peanut butter ice cream.
“Oh, I’m Archer. I’m so hot and ripped. I’m going to steal your peanut butter ice cream because I can do whatever the fuck I want because I’m an asshole,” I mock in a squeaky voice.
“I just love to torment women, because I’m a giant cockwomble with a teeny, tiny penis.
” I laugh to myself while wiggling my pinkie finger.
After switching off the shower, I feel slightly better, but I’m still craving the ice cream.
I wrap a towel around myself and walk into my bedroom, straight to my wardrobe, where I grab a man’s oversized Nirvana T-shirt.
I pull it on, then turn to leave to order in takeout and get back to work on trying to find out who is sending the threats.
Grabbing my cell, I place my order at our local Chinese takeout while making myself a glass of juice.
I open my freezer to get some ice, but I stop dead.
The ice cream. The peanut butter ice cream from the store is in my freezer.
I whirl around, looking for an open door, a window, expecting him to be there.
Nothing. That’s when my eyes land on a Post-it note on top of the ice cream. I reach for it.
Never meant to make you cry, little gremlin.
My jaw hangs slack as I blink, reading the Post-it again and again.
“How in the…?” I breathe. I have a good security system.
I close the freezer and run to check it, making sure it’s enabled.
It is. “How in the hell?” I mutter. I run around, checking all the windows and doors.
All locked. “Shit,” I breathe. My anxiety rises, and I begin looking in cupboards, checking to see if he’s hiding somewhere in my house.
After checking all cupboards and closets, I even checked behind the curtains.
It somehow has turned into a manic game of hide and seek, where he is actually nowhere to be found.
I run into my room and slam the door shut before dragging the heavy armchair from the opposite corner of the room and wedging it in front of the door.
Panting, my breaths come out uneven. I turn and look out of my bedroom window and see him standing at his window.
We both stare at each other, and I swallow and take slow, tentative steps towards my window and slowly lift it open. He opens his.
“Why?” I ask.
He blinks those long lashes, his emerald eyes freezing me to the spot. “Because I can,” he states, before slowly closing the window and walking away, leaving me feeling even more confused than before.
I close my window and walk back over to my bed, flopping down on my back and just staring up at the ceiling.
A million and one thoughts are whirling through my mind.
Why would he do something like that? How did he break into my house?
And again, just why?! I lay there for a while, the same questions going over and over again in my head until I finally decided I needed to get up and continue with the one job that’s important right now.
I don’t need any more distractions, and I don’t need Archer distracting me.
All I need to do is figure out who this person is that is threatening Mor and the club.