CHAPTER 16 #2
“You’re right,” he sighs. “I’m sorry. I just… You were so hurt when she left. I don’t want you to go through that again.”
“Why don’t you trust me?” I take a step back as he tries to approach. “I might be younger than you, but I’m not a child. We’re partners.”
“I trust you, but you’re my family.” Derek holds his hands out. “I’m supposed to protect you.”
“Maybe you should focus on bettering the syndicate and leave my sex life to me.” I sidestep his arm as he tries to stop me from leaving.
“Sparkie, stop,” he calls after me. “Wait, let’s talk this out.”
I’m done talking. I jog into my apartment and barricade the door, just in case he feels like using his code to come in. The cold shower rinses away all of my sweat, but my muscles still throb after the intense workout.
After I’m dressed for the day, I decide I still don’t want to see Derek, so I go to the one place he would never look for me – Oliver’s office.
Heck, even Oliver wasn’t sure what to do when I walked in, but I was so angry, I was willing to spend my entire afternoon doing *shudder* paperwork.
My eyes glaze over after staring at numbers for way too long, so Oliver shoos me away. I’ve hit rock bottom.
Derek has a lot of rules. Sorry, guidelines . Only pour one glass of alcohol at a time. Don’t date people you work with. Always wear a helmet when you ride a motorcycle. Well, fuck it. I can tell myself how to act, and I’m going to start right now.
The elevator doors open, and I stomp into the parking garage.
I think it’s time to go for a ride, sans helmet.
Yeah, that’ll spite him. I go to throw something in my saddlebags, but the clasp was already loosened.
That’s odd. I always cinch them after I open the bags. I pull back the flap and peek in.
A new bag of cat treats sits on top with a ribbon tied on it.
I stumble back, dropping my keys on the concrete.
Did I see that right? Slowly, I pull the bag out of the saddlebag.
Yep, brand new bag of unopened cat treats.
Derek wouldn’t do this. He knows we already have enough treats. Heck, he bought most of them.
Hesitantly, I dial Astrid’s number. She answers after a few rings. I can hear the comfortable chatter of the cafe in the background. I miss that place.
Didn’t think I’d hear from you today after I left. She sounds surprised. Everything okay?
“Yeah, yeah. No worries at all.” Is this how nonchalant people talk? Think subtle. Think casual. “No biggies over here.”
Sparks? You sound weird. Shit. Is this about last night?
“No, I just had a random question for you.” I’m crazy. This is just my imagination. “Did you put something in my saddlebags? You know, on my bike?”
No, why would I?
If the treats aren’t from her, who could they be from? I didn’t tell anyone about Licorice.
Earth to Sparks. Hello? Is everything okay?
“Sorry, yeah. Lost in thought.” My mind spins and another question pops into my head. “Also, next time we see each other, could you bring back my baseball cap? It was my favorite.”
What cap? I hear her shuffling in the background. Did you leave it here last year? I could check the boxes of your stuff. You know, you can really come get those anytime. I’m not holding them hostage or―
“No, Astrid,” I interject, a mounting feeling of hysteria rises in my chest. “When I picked you up from the police station, I was wearing a hat.”
Oh, yes! I liked that hat. You put that in one of the bags on your bike.
“Oh, silly me.” So I was right. I’m not crazy. That thought fills me with dread. “I’ve got to go.”
Sparks, Astrid warns. Are you hiding something from me? I thought we were past that.
“No, I’m just… no. Bye!”
I hang up despite her protests, and I know she didn’t buy my act. But I have other things to worry about. I completely dump out my saddlebags. Zip ties, jumper cables, loose cash, ponytails, a random rock. Hat – no. Cat treats – yes. Someone has been touching my stuff.
Paranoia reclaims its familiar hold. My head whips around until I get dizzy. Is someone watching me? How do they know about Licorice? What do they want with my hat?
My earlier plans of reckless driving go on hold as I dash back into my bedroom.
Derek tries to flag me down, but I ignore him.
He calls after me. I have to go. I need to hide.
I scamper into my closet and shut the door.
My pistol is loaded and at the ready. I sit there in the dark, holding my breath.
My phone screen lights up, casting a glow on my face. A text from Astrid.
I’m coming over.
No, stay home. I text back. My lungs stop taking in new air.
You’re not going to keep things from me anymore. I’ll be there in twenty.
I’m not going to let you down. She’s not in the system. She can’t go down the elevator by herself.
Then I’ll punch the bartender. I’ll see you in the interrogation room.
Can’t this wait until tomorrow?
No response. Shit. I debate staying here, tucked away in my closet, but I don’t think she’s bluffing.
Dreading this next conversation, I fumble with the zipper of a bodycon dress.
Smudged eyeshadow is fast eyeshadow. Who really cares what I look like anyway?
I leave the gun on my nightstand. They’re loud, messy, and I have other ways I can defend myself.
Up inside the Lightning Bolt, I order a double shot of whiskey. Astrid appears on the stool next to me. The bartender raises an eyebrow after recognizing her, but I wave him off.
“What’s wrong with your motorcycle?” Astrid doesn’t beat around the bush.
“Nothing.” I swirl my glass.
“Look me in the eyes and try that again.”
She stares at me, cold and unmoving. I open my mouth, but no words come out. My shoulders droop and I finish my drink, signaling for a second.
“It could be nothing.” I try to sound unbothered, but Astrid’s unblinking eyes can read my apprehension. “Do you want a drink or something? I’ll add you to my tab.”
“Don’t change the subject.” Wisps fall out of her ponytail. It seems she also got dressed in a hurry. She looks gorgeous in a skimpy iridescent dress.
“I think someone stole my hat.” The bartender delivers my second drink.
“And that warrants four shots of whiskey?” Astrid is unimpressed, or doesn’t believe me, or I don’t care. “Was it a magic hat?”
“Fuck you,” I bite back. “I didn’t ask for you to come.”
“Well, you always hide things from me!” Astrid gestures wildly. “I always feel like I’m on my back foot with you.”
“Hide things from you?” I chuckle cynically. “You know more than Derek does. I don’t know what else you want from me.”
“Wait,” Astrid pauses, putting the pieces together. “He doesn’t know about the gala?”
“No, because it doesn’t concern him.” I play with the ice in my drink. It clinks satisfyingly against the edge of the glass.
“This proves my point,” she groans. “You need to tell him.”
I spin in my chair, leaning against the bar. The liquor slowly starts to dull my senses. Perfect. A sexy blond catches my eye, and he smiles. I give him a small wave and he saunters my direction. He’ll do for tonight.
“Between you and Derek, I’m done being lectured today.” I throw back the last of my drink. “So do me a favor and leave me alone.”
Astrid shoots daggers at me as the blond extends his hand and I gracefully slide off the barstool. We dance together and his hands venture south and cup my ass. He gives me a playful squeeze and I whisper sultry nothings in his ear. Time to seal the deal, I flutter my eyelashes.
“Do you want to find somewhere more private?” His creamy voice makes me tingle in all the right places. Boom, the eyelashes always work.
I lead him outside, intending on going to my standard hotel.
We don’t make it that far. He grabs my hand, and we duck inside an alley, giggling like highschoolers.
My suitor hitches my legs around his waist and holds me against the brick wall.
My hair catches on the rough material, but his sweet kisses distract me from the sting.
His hands push up the hem of my skirt, playing with the lace of my underwear.
A rapid succession of clicks draws his attention, I almost don’t hear it.
“Is someone taking photos?” He squints down the alley, looking for the cause of the noise.
“What?” I ask confused.
“I have a girlfriend, I can’t be here!” He drops me suddenly and takes off.
I catch myself before I can fall on my butt, in awe of his brazen cheating. What an ass. The clicks continue, and I recognize the sound somewhere in my subconscious. I’ve heard it before. I creep down the dark alley, but the sound stops. I should just head back to the club, try to find a new date.
I turn around at the perfect time. A needle jabs my muscle at a weird angle, and my movement rips the syringe from a man’s hands before he can fully push the plunger. My attacker runs away into the night. I should chase him. The needle falls to the floor.
I should… what?
The world slows around me, shapes blur and color leeches away. Help, I need help. My hand grips the crumbling brick and pieces come off in my hand. Someone should take a look at that.
Wait, help.
Help first, bricks second. I need to get back to the club. Where am I? Where is the club?
I turn onto a street, praying my subconscious can remember the way home.
My heartbeat slows and every step is like I’m dragging cinder blocks.
There’s a voice. I can’t tell what they’re saying.
Help me, please help me. A pair of arms catches me as I collapse, and I can only hope that this is not the person who drugged me.