Chapter A Confrontation With A Toxic Girl
A Confrontation With A Toxic Girl
Charlie
Few things are more terrifying than knowing you’re the target of someone’s obsession. The feeling makes my skin itch so fiercely I want to scrub myself clean, as if I could wash away the invisible eyes.
It strikes without warning, slipping into my day when I least expect it. There’s no rhythm, no schedule, just a creeping unease that refuses to reveal its source.
Other than when Keaton cheated on me, I’ve never been so uncomfortable in my life.
Each day, the feeling grows heavier, pressing down until it’s almost unbearable.
I haven’t told Keaton yet, because my gut tells me exactly who it is.
We’re both in a good headspace, but I worry about how this might affect him.
I fear what he might do just to protect me.
There’s a good chance he’ll internalize guilt and blame himself.
Yes, he brought Rianna into our lives, but he can’t be held responsible for her actions.
Tonight, when I stepped outside and saw my tires slashed, I knew my secret couldn’t stay hidden from him any longer.
A groan escapes me as I rest my forehead against the cool metal of the driver’s door, seeking comfort where there is none.
Keaton’s going to be so upset with me.
My breath releases in a puffy cloud of vapor in the cool air as I straighten and pull my phone from the pocket of my hoodie to call Keaton.
“Hey, butterfly. Did you make it home?”
“Um, promise you won’t be mad?”
“Charlie.”
I nibble on my lip as I rock back and forth on my feet. “You have to promise.”
“Fuck. Fine. I promise. Now, why the hell did you make me?”
“I’m pretty sure Rianna has been stalking me, and I came out of work tonight to find all four tires slashed,” I rush out.
“Charlie Imara Henderson,” he barks.
“You said you wouldn’t get mad,” I whine.
“I’ll be there in a few minutes. Go back inside the shop and fucking stay there.”
“You made a promise.” He doesn’t say anything. “Keaton?”
I huff in annoyance when I realize he’s hung up. Frustration boils over, and I kick the flat tire with my Converse before grabbing my bags and keys from the seat.
That creepy sensation isn’t there, but I still tuck my keys between my fingers before walking back to the shop. I’m only back inside for a few minutes when Keaton messages me to inform me that it’s him outside.
As soon as I open the door, he yanks me into his arms and holds me tight.
“I should spank your fucking ass for not telling me this shit sooner,” he growls.
“You made a promise,” I mumble against his chest.
“I’m trying really hard to keep it, butterfly, but we don’t know how dangerous she truly is.” He pulls back so he can cup my cheeks. “She cut your fucking tires, Char. That’s serious shit.”
“Technically, we don’t know for sure that it’s her.”
“Who else would do it?”
“Maybe someone hated the taste of my coffee. My stuff is great, but someone could totally hate it enough to slash my tires.”
“You’re right. Let’s go check the cameras and call the police,” he says abruptly, as if that never occurred to him.
Keaton stands behind my office chair as I pull up the security footage from tonight.
We go through each hour carefully, frame by frame, until anything suspicious stands out.
Customers come and go, some regulars, some new, but all leaving with smiles on their faces.
I slow it down as it gets closer to closing time.
If it were Rianna, she wouldn’t come out of hiding as long as there was a parking lot full of vehicles.
She’s been running too long. She’d wait until she thought she was safe because, despite everything, intellectually, I don’t believe she’s stupid.
“There. Back it up and slow it down again,” Keaton says. “Right there. Watch the corner of the building across the street.”
He leans over my shoulder, resting our cheeks together as we watch closely.
A shadowy figure slips around the corner, hood drawn low to hide their face as they cross the deserted street toward my car. Under the harsh glare of the streetlights, their slight build gives them away. I’d bet my best coffee it’s a woman, and there’s only one woman bold enough to pull this off.
Rianna’s even more reckless than I imagined. Did she really think I wouldn’t have cameras watching every inch of my business?
She turns her head directly towards one as she squats in front of the driver's side tire, pulling a knife out of her pocket.
Keaton sighs and drops his forehead to my shoulder. He turns his head and brushes his lips against the side of my neck. “I’m sorry, baby.”
I lift a hand to his head and run my fingers through his hair as we watch her move to each tire to jam the knife in. “You’re not responsible for her actions, Keaton.”
“I brought her into our lives.”
“You did. We’re working through that part. But you can’t control anything she does. Only what you do.”
Rianna pauses on the passenger side of my car. Her arm is moving, but the body of the car blocks our view of what’s happening.
“What is she doing now?” I squint at the screen, disbelief rising. “Is she seriously keying my fucking car? What a cuntwaffle.”
This time Keaton’s sigh is so heavy that I spin in my chair to face him. His face is pale, and his eyes are dull. Regret weighs his shoulders down.
“Please don’t beat yourself up.”
A shiver wracks my body when his cold palm lands against my cheek. “You’re being hurt again because of me.”
“Keaton, I’m not hurt. I’m pissed. There’s a vast difference.” I place my hand over his. “Did I forgive you?”
“Yes.”
“Did I tell you we would try again?”
“Yes, and I’m fucking grateful for it.”
“I know you are because you show me all the time. Do I communicate my thoughts, feelings, and triggers to you?” He nods, and I smile, removing his hand from my cheek to kiss my palm.
“Then trust me to continue doing that. What she’s doing?
It’s not affecting us. I’m not healed completely, Keaton, but I am healed enough to control who I give power to now.
And I will never give her any more energy than what I’ve given her the last two years.
I need you on the same page with me if we’re going to keep this working.
If you need to make an appointment with your therapist to get those ugly thoughts about yourself out, do it.
Just know I have a pretty good listening ear, too. ”
I put my hands on his waist and push him back enough for me to stand up. “Now, how about we call the police and then go see what this bitch keyed into my car?”
Keaton’s hand drifts along my side, across my chest, and between my breasts, up to my neck. His fingers curl along my jawline as he cups my chin in his palm. Keaton tugs gently until I lift to my toes to meet his mouth.
The pleasure I get from kissing Keaton causes one hell of a fight to keep my eyes open. There’s something a bit more vulnerable about kissing someone without closing them. Also, a tiny bit awkward. But it allows me to see the desire and love that Keaton has for me.
I deepen the kiss, losing myself in him for a bit longer. When my body temperature rises, and I grow slick with arousal, I slowly pull away. It’s getting harder and harder to not rip his clothes off. My hunger for him grows every day until just looking at him sends my body into a needy mess.
Am I ready? I think so, but I’ll never be sure until we get there. Until we’re in that moment. I want to say I’m healed enough that I won’t be triggered, but I’ve been too terrified to let us move further in fear of learning I’m not.
“I love you, Charlie.”
I hum, this time wanting to give him something, a bit more than I have been. So, when I’m peering up into his eyes, I murmur, “Ditto, dragon boy.”
The happiness lighting up his eyes nearly knocks me off my feet, chasing away every shadow that lingered before our kiss. His joy is magnetic, and I can’t resist tracing my fingers over his face.
A simple response to his love is all it takes to observe something so magnificent.
Maybe words don’t always wound, but tonight I’ve seen how powerfully they can heal.
***
Since Rianna slashed my tires two weeks ago, Keaton’s been in full-on protector mode.
I’m never alone. He, Amelia, and his friends rotate shifts like a team of bodyguards.
Sometimes it feels like I can’t move without tripping over one of them, but I get it.
The police warned us to stay vigilant, especially after finding ‘Die, bitch’ carved into my car.
“Of course, he had to choose a bunny boiler to cheat on me with,” I mutter, slamming the pantry door after not finding anything to throw together for supper.
I snatch my keys from the counter and stomp toward the front door, determined to make a solo grocery run. Let her try something. I’m not a fan of violence, but right now, I’d throw down just for five minutes of peace.
“Where are you going?” Keaton asks, rubbing a towel over his damp head.
“Could you put a fucking shirt on?” I snap, watching the droplet of water slide down his chest. “You look really hot right now, and my brain is glitching.”
He moves the towel down to his chest, taking his sweet ol’ time rubbing across his skin to soak up any droplets.
How is it possible that just drying off can look so damn sexy?
“What are you doing, Charlie?” he murmurs, stepping closer.
“Huh?” My tongue flicks out to moisten my suddenly dry lips.
Keaton twirls the towel in both of his hands until it’s a tight roll. Then he puts it behind me and uses it to pull me closer. My palms smack against his warm chest, and I let out a moan.
“I asked what you were doing.”
“Probably you,” I mumble without thinking.
No. Bad, Charlie.
“Is that so?”
Yes.
“No.”
When did his skin get so soft?
The barbell through his nipple draws my attention, and my hand drifts towards it, but before I can make contact, Keaton catches it in his.
“Were you about to leave without letting me know?” he asks.