Chapter 1 #2
The one thing I inherited from her for certain is the stubborn streak. Granddad used to say that when we would argue, it was like dancing on razor blades around the house.
My shoulders slump. I’m going to miss her so much.
I get to my feet and stretch, twisting my arms above my head with a groan of relief, only for my shoulders to slump hard the next second along with the realization I’m going to have to find my pants again soon.
What a crap day. The first I’ve been alone for over a month, and I can’t wait to go back home.
What was supposed to be a simple stay with Grandma for a couple of weeks until she got back on her feet or at least got a set up for nurses to come visit, quickly went sideways.
Six weeks later she just goes in her sleep, peacefully, and I’m left here dealing with the aftermath alone, as usual.
My phone vibrates against the couch cushion, and I find a text message from the veterinary clinic, letting me know Edgar Allan Paw, my cat, is finally ready to be picked up from their office.
My socked feet slide across the smooth wood floors, and I barely stop myself from eating the doorjamb with my face on my way back to my grandfather’s study as my hands grab the door for purchase.
I snatch up my pants from where I’d left them in a small pile behind the desk, and move to shuck them on, jumping a bit to pull the waistline over my soft tummy before shoving my phone into my back pocket.
I steadily make my way toward the front parlor, grabbing my clutch wallet and everything I’ll need to check Edgar out of the clinic as I go, before shoving my socked feet into my tennis shoes, cringing at having to put on shoes at all.
I make sure to grab the short handle to Edgar’s cat carrier on my way out the front door and check that I have a soft blanket inside for him before I lock up and make my way down the brief steps to the busy street below.
Edgar, my big gray ragdoll cat, has been escaping from my apartment, and now the brownstone, for the last six months.
The last time it took hours to find him as the little shit likes to escape from the doors like a twitchy bandit every chance he gets.
The vet I left him with this morning assured me that scheduling him to get neutered would be the best thing for Edgar and make sure he doesn’t become a very handsome daddy soon.
I just hope he’s alright and they’re giving him the good drugs.
The sun is still high in the sky thankfully, but I curse myself inwardly all the same for forgetting to bring an umbrella. It rains as many days as it doesn’t in Atlanta, and being stuck in a downpour without an umbrella and a very pissed off cat does not sound like a good time to me.
I move along at a steady pace as I careen around people on their way to and from home, tugging at the collar of my coat and clenching the carrier tightly in my grip, as beeps and loud honks emit from vehicles, filling the otherwise brisk and tranquil air.
It’s a good thing the vet clinic is only a few short blocks away, because afternoon in the city is the busiest part of the day, making it hard to get a taxi.
“Bernadette?!” an annoyingly familiar voice calls from across the street.
I glance up, and my shoulders fold inwardly as I instinctively try to make myself smaller. Shit, why did I look?
Robbie, the last person I want to talk to, or see ever, stands waving like an idiot across the street holding up traffic and ignoring the impolite looks of people passing by. Shit.
Acting as if I didn’t hear or stare directly at him, I start power walking toward the clinic, intent on getting away from the guy, hoping I can get lost in the crowd. I really don’t want to see or talk to him for too many reasons to count.
Mild stalking is so much hotter in the romance novels, and a romance novel Robbie and I are not.
We hooked up after meeting on a dating app, and he seemed entirely harmless at first, but then asked me to come meet his mother and started delivering roses. Then things got weirder.
Just last week I caught him just outside the brownstone, watching from across the street in the shadows of the tree line.
I’ve no idea how he even found my grandmother’s house and just haven’t had time to deal with it since grandma’s health took such a turn so quickly.
I really wish the guy would just get the hint and go away.
“I told you I didn’t want to see you again.
” I say, giving up on avoiding him when he suddenly appears beside me, a wide grin on his boyishly handsome face.
Straightening my back, I swing the cat carrier across my body to the other hand to put something tangible between us.
“I know, I know. I only wanted to say sorry about your grandmother,” Robbie replies, keeping up easily with my short frame, his swimmers' build making him look even taller.
The tallness is what drew me to him, that and the fact that I needed cock. Dammit Bernie.
I pick up the pace down the sidewalk, my brows scrunching together and my nostrils flaring as he walks alongside me, gripping the cat carrier so hard my knuckles are whitening.
He shouldn’t even know I have a grandmother. We were just meant to have casual sex on occasion like we both agreed on before he started spying on me.
“Well, now you have, and you can be on your way. Take care,” I say, trying to get him to take a hint. I really don’t want to have to go to the police and put in a restraining order against the guy, but I will if I have to.
“I missed you, and I didn’t know where you’d gone,” he mutters, shoving a hand into his short brown hair, making it stand on end.
I take another glimpse up at him, and almost feel bad for him, even though he’s terrified me on more than a few occasions, startling me outside my apartment door most of the time. The cute little creep. “You can’t keep stalking me like this.”
“I’m not really stalking you, it’s just you’re so pretty and mother says—”
I am so not doing this. I pause on the sidewalk and square off against him.
“Robbie if you don’t piss off, I’m going to hit you, and neither of us want that, so just go away, alright?
You seem like a nice guy, but if you don’t stop showing up at my house, I’m going to kick your ass,” I tell him, shoving my glasses up my nose as I level a glare at him.
He scoffs, as if the idea is ridiculous, when I’ve tumbled bigger men than him to the ground. All the pent of rage, confusion, and stifled emotions I’ve been holding inside of me for months lets loose. Goosebumps prickle my arms, and my scalp raises across the top of my head as my nostrils flare.
I stop abruptly, causing someone to jostle into me from behind, and ignore the disgruntled sounds of people suddenly forced to walk around me as I glare up at his five-foot-ten frame.
“Robbie, I am never. Never, never, never going to want to marry you and have your babies. No matter how many bouquets of roses or weird messages you leave on my voicemail, alright? I told you from the beginning, I don’t do relationships, and I don’t want to date you. We had a good time, but that was it.”
The manchild’s expression falls from hopeful to that of a wounded puppy and even though guilt eats at me, I pray he gets the message this time. Otherwise, I really will kick his ass.
“I thought we had something more. I’m sorry I bothered you. I’ll go,” he finally responds, shaking his head with disbelief as he backs away and charges off in the opposite direction.
I watch until he crosses the crosswalk and I lose him in the crowd of people, just to make sure he’s not going to follow me again.
I’m not his weird Bobby Sue to match his sweet stalker from next door, and I do feel bad because the guy seems lonely. Not bad enough to marry him and move in with his mother, but still.
I pause on the sidewalk and suck in a deep breath, letting it leave my mouth in a harsh whoosh as I try to reset myself, shrugging off the leftover anxiety that has been thrumming through me since Robbie showed up. Maybe he will be gone for good this time.
Continuing my way to the vet office, a pebble skyrockets across the concrete when my shoe connects with it, and I watch it bounce and land at the edge of the street where a couple stand waiting for a cab.
My attention grabs on them as I walk by, noticing how at ease the woman seems with him, her eyes light and a grin stretched across her lips, so obviously in love—ick.
I turn away from their affectionate display.
Love is the last thing I need in my life.
I drop my gaze to the ground and grip the carrier tighter.
It shouldn’t be this hard to find someone to have occasional meaningless sex with, you would think the internet would have an actual algorithm for sex on demand by now.
I round a corner, getting closer to my destination, and start taking quicker steps to get to the vet clinic without delay, a wave of remorse washing over me at the thought of what horrors Edgar Allan Paw has endured overnight and today.
I totally owe it to him to take him to the pet shop after to grab a treat.
The one time I ever stayed in the hospital, Grandad brought my favorite ice cream and candies for me.
I wonder which cat flavor says, ‘I’m really sorry about your balls, bro.
’ Maybe I should make him a cat cake— a fancy feast cake with layers of meats?
My thoughts rushing like a sieve, I barely hear someone call out my name.
“Bernadette Crenshaw?” a deep voice says, a little louder this time.
I glance back on the sidewalk to see a big blonde man with his eyebrows pulled down so low I can barely make out the blue of his eyes, standing by a long black limo with the door open and waiting. Wow, am I popular today or freaking what?
From the angry look on his face, it’s obvious he’d been trying to catch my attention while I was lost in my thoughts of the meat patty cake layers I could make for my cat when he’s feeling better.
“Can I help you?” I ask, taking a step back, knowing I can’t possibly be the person this guy is looking for. He could easily double as a bodyguard and doesn’t seem very happy to meet me.
“We need you to come with us,” The man says, matter-of-factly and a sinking sensation fills my gut.
“What for?” I ask dumbly, warning trilling through me as I try to gauge if he means me harm.
Another guy steps out of the passenger side door of the limo, just as big and hulking as the first, who begins to button his expensive suit on his walk over.
“Sorry, I don’t have time today,” I say, and move swiftly around him only to come face to face with the new guy and quickly do a double take.
They look like twin goons for hire.
Eyes growing wide, I scan the streets for Robbie to see if he’s somehow watching and gloating, waiting on these two to grab me. I don’t care how much his mother wants grandbabies; this is so not happening. Did he send these guys to get me?
“Get in the car,” meathead number two says, his sandy brown hair blowing in the wind and tone biting as if I should just follow his edict.
A chill runs through me that has nothing to do with how unreasonably cold this spring has been and everything to do with the fact that I’m pretty sure my cute stalker is now trying to have me kidnapped?! What the hell?
“No, thank you. I’ve got to go get my cat.” My shoulders hunch low as I grip the edges of my blazer jacket together and turn to hustle away, real fear clambering in my heart now. There’s no way I can overpower these guys.
Someone grabs me from behind, and before I can open my mouth to scream, a strong hand is there muffling my mouth.
The cat carrier falls to the ground as I struggle against the big man. I throw my head back with all of my strength but unfortunately meet only air as I’m hoisted up off the ground, arms like bands of steel holding me tight.
I scream again when the world goes sideways as I’m put upside down over a very broad shoulder. “Let me go!” I shout, hammering my fists at his back like my life depends on it. I wail on him, but the guy doesn’t even flinch, even though I know I pack a punch.
My butt meets soft leather, and I scramble for the driver side passenger door the moment I’m free. I tug at the handle again and again, clawing at it to get it open, even as it drives away much faster than I was expecting. “No, no, no.”
I kick at my assailants, and struggle anew when cold metal closes around my wrists. Shrill screams erupt from me as meathead number two holds me still and slaps a piece of tape over my mouth. A burlap bag comes next, enclosing me in darkness as my behind hits the limo floor.
“Stop struggling, and no one will hurt you,” a male says, but I wriggle harder.
My heartbeat hammers in my chest and panic seizes in my sternum, my body shaking with adrenaline as tears pour from my eyes and muffled shrieks begin to erupt from my covered mouth.
“We’ve got her,” I hear someone say, before a sharp blow to the back of my head renders me blissfully unconscious.