Chapter 15
Star
“Who was that screeching harpy?”
I snorted at Max’s totally accurate description of Heather, even if I felt like fire ants were crawling over my skin from the encounter.
“Just an old friend.” I shrugged, keeping my gaze fixed on my nails as I picked at my already chipped black polish.
Maybe I should do merlot next.
Or a red that looks like I dipped my fingers in blood…
Damon snorted. “She wasn’t speaking to you like a friend, Star.”
Apparently, the grumpy one had decided to not only talk to me today but use my preferred name. I would have bristled at his blunt observation if he didn’t sound so weirdly upset on my behalf.
Maybe he’s coming down with something.
I sighed and lifted my gaze to look at the two men.
The truth felt like it was burning a hole in my gut most days, but I hadn’t talked about what had happened between Heather and me with anyone.
I’d kept it to myself, not only because the unstable muppet was known for threatening lawsuits against anyone who dared mention her many crimes, but because of a lingering sense of… loyalty.
We were friends at one point.
At least, I thought we were…
As much as the idea of sharing my past set me on edge, I decided venting to the guys couldn’t make things worse. It wasn’t like they knew Heather’s sycophants across town, or would waste their time gossiping about the situation to any of the other store owners at this “loser” mall.
And it’s not really that bad…
I like it here.
“Heather and I became friends after she transferred to my high school during our senior year,” I began, wincing at how my voice hitched.
“We bonded over a mutual obsession with hair and makeup… She was the first person I told about my dream to have a beauty kiosk at Lone Pine Mall, even though I was still working on my skills at the time.” My cheeks were burning as I revealed way more about myself than I usually felt comfortable doing.
“You are excellent at makeup, Star!” Max cut in, just like the overly enthusiastic cheerleader he’d already proven himself to be. “If you ever need to keep your skills sharp, feel free to practice on…” He glanced at Damon. “Me.”
Oh?
Just as I started professionally assessing Max’s excellent bone structure, Damon brought us back to the hot topic at hand. “Keep going,” he gritted out, sounding like he was weirdly getting his all-black panties twisted over my tale of woe.
If you insist, Broody Boy.
Slowly exhaling, I replied in a rush of word-vomit—as if I truly needed to purge the poison from my system.
“Long story short, her dad agreed to co-sign on a kiosk after graduation, and Bodacious Babes Beauty Bar was born. I already had a pretty big following from high school dances and prom, and then word of mouth spread until we were booked for like, six months in advance.”
“All of that sounds awesome.” Max squinted as he stepped closer—and I couldn’t help noticing how aware I was of what little distance separated us. “But I’m assuming the severed foot is about to drop.”
I swear, it’s like he’s from a different time.
Or worked at Medieval Times…
I let Max’s incorrect idiom go, since the severed foot was about to drop.
“Yeah, it wasn’t long until I caught wind of some weirdly specific rumors, like claims that 90 percent of our hair and makeup designs came from her, and that I was just manipulating her into doing more work than me.
I mean, yeah, maybe she did technically offer a few more options in her book, but her technique was… ”
Not wanting to sound like a total jerk, I hesitated, but Damon filled in the blanks with his usual razor-sharp bluntness.
“Simple, shoddy, and immature. Lacking any nuance or skill to the point where, five minutes ago, I felt as if I were gazing upon a child’s finger painting next to a museum-worthy exhibition. ”
Burn!
Wait.
Is he… flirting with me?!
I was so flustered by his unexpected compliment, I could only stutter in response. “Um, well… it did seem like customers were asking for me more than her, sooo… maybe? I dunno…”
“Most definitely,” Max vehemently confirmed, and I felt my cheeks go up in flames, much to my horror.
“And let me guess. Heather got jealous and bullied you out of the business, more than happy to continue on her own with your customers while profiting off of your ideas. Does that sound about right?”
Well, now that you mention it…
“Yeah,” I nodded, which made both guys advance, causing me to back into the Halloween-print scrunchie display—not that I actually wanted to escape.
“And she decided since she’d gone and copyrighted the business behind my back, that meant she could claim complete ownership of everything we’d created together. ”
I can’t believe I trusted her…
My eyes grew hot as I remembered how Heather used to verbally and mentally abuse me in private, only to twist the story in public.
“How could you be so cruel, Brittany? After all that I’ve done for you.”
The way she told it to anyone who would listen, I was the bully, and she was the victim, bravely freeing herself from a toxic situation.
How anyone was gullible enough to believe her theater kid act is beyond me.
I snapped back to reality to find the guys staring at me so intensely, I felt like a mouse being watched by two very hungry cats.
Meow.
“So, yeah,” I concluded with a weird jazz hands gesture to awkwardly top it off. “That’s how I ended up looking for work here at your tropical, western, goth paradise.”
End scene.
“Would you like us to dispose of this vile creature for you?” Damon asked, and Max’s eyes widened with what looked like either surprise or… interest.
No one was more shocked than me, especially because Old West Goth’s growly tone—combined with his unblinking stare—was making my pussy throb beneath my clothing.
Down, girl!
We do not throb for murder.
“It’s cool.” I laughed nervously. Hornily. “You don’t need to deliver violent vengeance on my behalf. I’m totally over it, seriously.”
I attempted a sweet smile, even as some small, evil part of me wanted to bathe in their protectiveness as if it really was Heather’s blood.
Get a grip, Star!
“You’re not over it, though.” Damon’s voice was low and menacing as he caged me in with his larger frame, enveloping me in the scent of leather and citrus, of all things.
Leaning down until his mouth was so close to my neck that his breath tickled my now sweaty skin, he took a deep—almost obscene—inhale. “You smell like anger.”
This is warped.
But I’m so into it.
Damon’s fake vampire routine was definitely working for me, but I would rather drive a stake through my own heart than admit to that.
“Yeah… okay. Yes,” I agreed. It felt good to say it, actually. “Maybe I am still a little mad, but so what? She stole from me, She passed off my work as her own, and she’s crazy enough to try and sue anyone who calls her out. What can I do against someone like that?”
Absolutely nothing.
Damon suddenly backed off, and I realized Max was pulling him away with a pointed look.
Look at Hawaiian Tropic, defending my honor!
Something wordless passed between them, making me wonder again how long this pair of seemingly mismatched socks had known each other.
“Try not to worry about it, Star,” Max murmured in a magically soothing tone. “We’ll just let karma deal with it.”
“Yeah,” Damon chuckled, although I didn’t see what was so funny. “Karma.”
I felt drugged. My head felt stuffed with clouds and my eyelids grew heavy. “I-I… think I need a soda,” I mumbled—my throat suddenly desert dry—before stumbling toward the breakroom in the back of the store.
Grabbing a Jolt Cola from the fridge, I took a swig and slumped into an orange plastic chair, wondering what the hell was going on with me.
It’s probably just an adrenaline drop from seeing Heather again.
Or all the blood in my body racing to my vagina.
Once the double-shot of caffeine was firmly flowing through my veins, I could admit that the guys’ protectiveness—along with Damon looming over me with his Teen Wolf growl—might have also played a role in me swooning like a Victorian broad.
Girlfriend.
You cannot get involved with either one of these weirdos.
It wasn’t as if I hadn’t considered getting freaky with Old West Vampire and… whatever the hell Max was going for with the island resort wear. They were both hella hot, and I was no blushing virgin. I had no doubt I could totally handle both of them in the bedroom.
Maybe even together…
DOWN GIRL!
To be honest, the problem wasn’t with Damon and Max at all.
It was me. I couldn’t trust anyone—not after what had happened with Heather—and especially now that she’d tracked me down.
I’d seen my ex-BFF in action countless times before.
She was a dog with a bone when it came to what she saw as “righteous” revenge, so I knew today's run-in wouldn’t be the last I’d see of her evil face.
Sighing, I chugged the rest of my Jolt, deciding I might as well fill my veins with high-grade caffeine. There was no way I’d be sleeping tonight, anyway, now that I was back in Heather’s sights.
I can’t believe she randomly found me.
Lone Pine was Queen Heather’s kingdom, and while Retail Haven was seen as the reject mall with knockoffs, plenty of stores sold “cheap crap” closer to home. There was absolutely no reason for her to drive all the way to this part of town…
Oh.
She already knew I was here.
My blood chilled as I realized she’d been keeping tabs on me—possibly since our falling out over Bodacious Babes.
This is warped.
And I am not into it.
It wouldn’t be the first time Heather resorted to such tactics.
She was notoriously paranoid, constantly convinced others were plotting against her and needed to be watched.
Of course, I never confronted her about her concerning behavior.
My ex-bestie wasn’t the type of person you could give tough love to—not if you didn’t want to be on the receiving end of her wrath.
But I ended up there anyway.
I cursed my own naivety under my breath. All this time—while I was picking up the broken pieces of my shattered life—I’d assumed Heather had moved on with her stolen success. Instead, she’d perfected her creepy craft, and now I was the one being stalked.
But why bother with me at all if she won?
Why not just leave me the hell alone?!
That anger Damon had supposedly smelled bubbled up without warning, and I growled like a teen vampire myself, needing an outlet.
Crushing the empty soda can in my hand, I chucked it at the nearby electrical panel, eager for the harsh sound of metal on metal to soothe my nerves. It clanged nicely, followed by a popping noise as a large crack appeared in the wall from the panel box all the way down to the floor.
Oops…
I grimaced and leaped to my feet before scampering closer to inspect the damage. Weirdly, it didn’t look like a fresh break. The crack was too straight and smooth and when I nudged the dislodged chunk with the toe of my boot, it swung inward.
Like a door.
A secret door.
Oh. My. Gawd.
Glancing nervously over my shoulder, I braced myself for either Damon or Max to appear and sexily scold me for wrecking the place.
And discovering their secret lair.
I hesitated, but only for a second. My curiosity always got the better of me—for better or worse—and I was at peace with that. There were probably bodies buried behind this wall, but even that serial killer clue wasn’t enough to scare me off.
All I knew was that whatever I was about to see would beat going back out to the store, especially after pouring my heart out over my ruined hopes and dreams.
Maybe I’ll find an emergency exit while I’m at it…
So I never have to face the guys again.
Confident I’d be left alone for a while to sulk, I grabbed a flashlight from the formica countertop, steeled my spine, and tiptoed into the darkness.