Fling

by Erin Havoc

  I cross my arms, still not convinced about blurting my heart out. “We have to take the orders to the customers.”

  “Lisa,” she calls, not taking her eyes from me. “Take these orders for me, please? I have to discuss something with Christine.”

  Lisa strides to us, accepting the notepad from Hazel as my friend drags me to the back of the café. I sigh again but don’t fight the hand around my wrist as we zigzag between stoves and bakers on the way to her office. She shuts the door behind us, her gaze meeting mine.

  “Christine, you either tell me what’s going on, or I’ll have Lis come here and we’ll have an intervention.”

  “Hazel, I’m just under the weather for a change. My boss fired me, and I have a pile of debt to pay. My life’s a train wreck,” I hiss, my face flushing with sudden anger. I breathe out, having to remind myself I’m not resentful about her.

  “What I’m saying is that you were calmer last time we talked about this, even with the debt, and the loans. You were mad, but you accepted there was no way around it and you’d have to figure something out. Remember? You said you were going to use it as a lesson.”

  I clench my jaw, searching around the room for a way to avoid this conversation. “I wasn’t counting on that jerk of my former boss letting me go so soon. That’s it.”

  “Christine,” Hazel cries, taking a step closer to me. “You’re one of my best friends. I want what’s best for you.” She lets that sink in for a moment before continuing in a soft voice, “What happened to Jasper?”

  My shoulders slump before I can help it. I’m tired. So tired. The weight of the last week is prevailing upon me, and for a sudden painful second, tears sting the back of my eyes. I drop my gaze to the floor, the pressure making my throat burn. Nothing is right, and nothing ever seems to work, and it doesn’t matter how hard I try.

  “What happened after you two left?” She urges me on. “You were ogling each other so hard I was sure you would combust. Then you kissed, and I freaking blushed, Christine.” She chuckles. “You two made me feel like a prude.”

  A chuckle escapes me. “You? I doubt it. How’s your hottie going, by the way?”

  Her gaze shifts and she looks away, and for a moment I think there’s something she’s not telling me. But she grins and waves a hand in dismissal. “Got tired of him. But you’re in the spotlight here. How was it?”

  I study her face one last time and let my doubt drop. If something is going on in her life, I trust she’ll tell us. Shrugging, I look away. “It was good. Sex was out of the charts. We had fun.”

  Silence stretches.

  “That’s it?” She asks, and I’m about to shrug once more when her hand weighs down over my shoulder. “I swear if you shrug one more time...”

  “Do you think I’m avoiding the subject because I’m a jerk? That’s not it, Hazel. I’m sad.” I frown, for the first time admitting that out loud. “I made a fool out of myself again. I let myself be vulnerable and open to him, and he ghosted me this morning.”

  “Ghosted you?”

  I nod. “He wasn’t there when I woke up.”

  Hazel scowls, crossing her arms over her chest. “What a dick move!”

  “It was supposed to be a one-night stand, anyway. Maybe this is for the best. Maybe it’s better to believe he’s a straight-up jerk than whatever he’d tell me if we went on seeing each other and he decided to break up.”

  Hazel nods hard, her eyes unfocusing. “Remember my ex? Such lousy excuses.”

  “Yeah. So I think it’s better this way. Just another jerk for the string of jerks I went out with. I joined Tinder looking for something casual. I had it and I messed up, expecting more. It’s another lesson for me to learn.” She’s one of my best friends, but I have no heart to tell her how painful this is. How intense the connection was. How hard it snapped.

  Hazel coos, throwing her arms around me in a tight hug. “Do you want another girl’s night? Maybe drink until we forget why you’re sad?”

  “No.” I laugh against her hair. “What I need is to gather some sense out of my life. I’m spending every free second of my day looking for a new job. There’s no time to waste.”

  She lets go of me, sighing. “I’d love to have you here. If you want to stay longer, we can think of something.”

  I shake my head once. “Only if there’s nothing else for me around the city. I need to at least keep some focus on photography. Make it worth the student loans.”

  “You’re right.” She touches my hair, then squeezes my cheeks together until my lips pop. “So let’s get back, keep your head busy and make a bunch of tips.”

  I try to smile while she still squishes my face. “You can bet on it, boss.”

  * * *

  The day fades away, the crowd in the café transforms, but it never quite empties. I offer to stay extra hours, which Hazel accepts, and it’s close to nine when I get off the bus, walking the two blocks to my apartment. Tired but satisfied. I indeed made a good amount of tips and managed to keep Jasper hidden in a corner of my mind. All I can ask for now is a hot shower and a glass of wine before I slump on my couch to look for job ads. I also have to take Oreo out, so I quicken the pace to get home sooner.

  As I speed up, I catch steps speeding up behind me. What the hell? I have been so focused on getting home and chill that I haven’t noticed there was someone else on the street when I got off the bus. Trying to shake the fear off, I turn my head to look up and down the street before crossing to the other sidewalk. It’s probably some other person who worked late and is going home too.

  But the steps follow me, crossing the street and pacing ever closer. My heart bangs against my ribs, suddenly aware I’m in danger. My brain sends electrical currents through my body, starting a flee response I hope I won’t use. Looking for help, my eyes dart around the street. What a fool. It’s nine o’clock on a Sunday night and I live in a residential area, with nothing but apartment buildings for blocks. There’s no one out, the only light coming from under windows cracked open and street lamps.

  If this person’s indeed after me, no one will come to the rescue.

  What a fantastic way to end a fantastic day. I curse under my breath before kicking my feet up in a run. I’m a block from home. And maybe this person isn’t even after me and I’m being paranoid.

  But the sound behind me is of a run now, the shoes hitting the pavement with haste. I look behind me, but it’s dark, and the stranger’s hooded. My heart punches inside my chest as adrenaline washes over me, panic rising in my throat until I suffocate. I want to call for help, I want to yell, but my voice won’t, can’t come out. I suck air in and try again, so close to home, so close to safety.

  Fingers grip around my arm, forcing me to a halt, almost tumbling me to the ground. I pull my arm out of the grip, but as soon as I manage it, another hand comes over my face, forcing my cheeks the same way Hazel did earlier, but with sheer violence. It hurts and I try to pull my head back as a male voice roars against my face. “Stop fighting, Christine!”

  My stomach drops as I recognize the voice. My eyes take a moment adjusting to the lack of light, perceiving the high cheekbones I once found so pretty. But Kyle, the ex that left me while owing an arm to the bank, isn’t as cute as I remembered. His stubble seems dirty, and his eyes are red-rimmed with rage.

  I guess Jasper ruined every other man all right.

  I force my breath to even out, my eyes darting around us. He’s alone, so if I can distract him, pretend I’m listening, then kick him in the balls...

  “Look at me,” he barks, his grave voice pure threat. He squeezes my arm in a tight grip. “I just want to discuss something real quick.”

  I nod, expecting him to let me go. I balance if I should scream. Maybe someone will come. Maybe Kyle will hit me if I do that, and no one will help me. Maybe, just maybe, he just wants to talk.

  We stand like that for a long moment, but he never lets go of my face. I watch him, noticing his gaze roaming over me, a
nalyzing me. A feral hunger lights his eyes, like a wild cat upon his prey. I try to pull my face out of his grasp, but that makes him snap his eyes back to me.

  “You’re one ungrateful bitch, aren’t you?” He roars, his face close to mine as he frowns, his upper lip raised in disgust. “After everything we’ve been through, everything I’ve done for you... All the time we’ve been together that I had to pretend I liked the shitty pictures you took just to make you feel better. All the time you felt loved and wanted, without me ever telling to your face how average and stupid you are, while you were being selfish.” He clicks his tongue. “Wasting your weekend helping dirty mutts when you could have been working out at the gym or something to come back home hot and tight for me... But no.” He squeezes my face tighter, my vision blurring with unshed tears. “You just always had to think of yourself, hadn’t you?”

  My heart still thumps, and my stomach clenches in fear and despair. I raise my hands to his wrist, pulling my face back to spit, “What the hell do you want, Kyle?”

  The hand that squeezes my face slides down to my neck, his fingers digging into my skin. “You are going to pay, bitch. You dared to put a private detective on my tail and sue me while you could’ve just kept your mouth shut and pay that fucking debt as a payback for all the time I had to deal with you... I was patient, Christine. I endured, I was a nice guy. But you’re such a prude, never opening your legs. You fucking owed me for wasting my time with you. Then you go and sue me.” His fist closes around my neck. I dig my nails into his skin, sucking air in as I prepare to kick.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

  “Oh, so you’re telling me a ghost lawyer did that? Someone took pity of your fat ass?” He shook me. “Did you fuck someone, Christine? Is a lawyer pity-fucking you?”

  Along with fear, I feel something else.

  Rage. Bright red fury paints the edges of my vision.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, and I don’t fucking care,” I roar, my voice not completely my own. “Who I fuck or don’t fuck is not your problem.”

  He leans in. “So you are fucking someone, you bitch? When you’ve always kept your legs closed for me?”

  “Not my problem if your limp cock can’t handle a girl like me.”

  With that, I pull back and headbutt him straight in the nose.

  Kyle cries out and releases me. Adrenaline kicking in, I slam my hands into his chest and push him back as hard as I can. Only then I whirl back and sprint away.

  The sheer will to survive drives me out, full speed down the street. Blinded by the tears that begin to run down my face, I shudder. My plan is to get inside my building and into my apartment, where Oreo will protect me until I can call the cops. But I’m almost there when I hear Kyle’s footsteps dogging me.

  “I’m going to kill you, Christine,” he yells, and for a second I’m glad he does it. Maybe one of the neighbors will hear and call the police.

  But he’s too close for me to open and shut the entrance door. This way, he’ll just get inside with me and then I’ll have no way out. So I keep running, passing the front of the building, forcing my brain to create a map to the closest police station or some public space that will actually have people at this time of the day.

  My mind’s so fuzzy I think I’m hearing another set of steps.

  There’s a loud thud, and I hear Kyle collapsing. My brain registers it as pure luck — he tripped over something, so I keep on running. But the sounds persist, and I finally recognize them as…

  As a beating.

  I sprint across the street again and look behind to where Kyle should be.

  A man hovers over his form, a dark silhouette kicking him in the dark. I slow down, my heart threatening to escape through my mouth as I gulp air, trying to swallow it. Just then I notice a car parked, the passenger door opened. The headlights blind me, and I blink as the driver’s door open. I can’t recognize him as he pulls a phone.

  I had been so scared I didn’t hear the car approaching. Someone actually saved me.

  My rescuer squats, collecting Kyle around his hoodie and raising him high, shaking him until his feet dangle mid-air. I can feel the menace from here, and that rattles me. Is that man saving me? Or is he someone after Kyle that, in a twist of fate, happened upon him while he was chasing me?

  Several beats of my thundering heart pass before a small group of people comes out of my building, a man with a baseball bat in hand leading. Squinting, I recognize my second-floor neighbor, an older man with a gentle face. He approaches my mysterious savior, who drops Kyle before exchanging some words with my neighbor. The silhouette that had left the driver’s side of the car joins the group, gesticulating.

  But the man that saved me turns in my direction, calling “Christine, it’s all right now.”

  My stomach plunges. With the lights hitting him from this angle, I couldn’t see properly. But that voice? I could recognize it anywhere. The smooth and warm undertone when he says my name is unmistakable. I take off in a jog, taking a moment to be sure I’m not imagining things.

  But it is Jasper. The car parked in an angle is his town car, the driver telling my neighbors what happened. Jasper came out of nowhere and beat Kyle to a pulp. His eyes are soft when I manage to meet them, his body colliding with mine in a tight hug.

  “It’s all right,” he repeats, his voice a whisper. “Let’s get you home.”

  His presence’s so heartwarming, and my heart’s been aching for so long I burst into tears, unable to keep them inside for another second. I sniff and try not to embarrass myself in front of him, but he holds me tighter, bending to collect me in his arms and crossing the opened door of the building.

  10

  * * *

  JASPER

  F

  uck, if I had been one second too late.

  I would never have forgiven myself. Never.

  And to think I had been trying to make myself worthy. I should have sent the detective to keep an eye on her. Fucking hell, I can’t accept that bastard of her ex came after her after I’ve found him.

  Because I found him. And I sued the motherfucker in all possible ways, in every single possible breach of the law. Now that he has tried to hurt Christine, he’s going to rot in jail to the end of his days.

  I wish I could see it when the cops show up and take him away. Good fucking riddance. But I have more important things to take care of.

  So I carry Christine inside the building and up the stairs — she doesn’t ask me how I know the number of her apartment. I do because I’ve become a stalker. I needed to find her, to keep her safe from harm. And I’m fucking glad I did.

  She might hate me at first, but she’ll understand. She did give me no choice when she disappeared.

  Pressing a kiss to her temple as I climb the steps, I let her softly weep on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, baby, I’m so sorry.”

  “About what?” She stutters out, looking at me with red-rimmed eyes.

  It fucking slices at my chest. The anguish of seeing her crying, seeing her in pain. I promise myself it will never happen again.

  “I should have gotten here earlier. But I had some trouble figuring out where you lived.”

  She cocks her brow in the most adorable way. “Oh. How did you...?”

  I kiss her nose. “You disappeared out of thin air, baby. Without any message. I had to find you. I couldn’t live another day without a piece of my soul.”

  Christine gasps and tightens her hold around me. “Didn’t you... kind of ghost me?”

  My brows shoot up. “Ghost you? When? You’re the one who left the apartment.”

  “I thought you had left.”

  “Never. I was in my office.”

  Her mouth drops in an O-shape.

  We reach her door and she squirms to get down from my arms. I don’t let her. As far as I’m concerned, she’s never leaving my arms again.

  “Where are your keys, baby?”

  “In my
bag, so if you could... put me down...”

  I shake my head. “Not going to happen. Grab them for me and I’ll open the door.”

  A smile threatens to pull the corner of her lip. “Really, Jasper. I’m not wounded. You saved me just in time.”

  My stomach still aches. “I didn’t. He scared you. He touched you. I was too late to prevent that from happening.”

  Her eyes soften. “But you saved me from the worst.”

  “You wouldn’t need saving,” I insist, gripping her tighter, “if I had been open with you from the start. If I had been more efficient.”

  A dip appears between her brows. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, I will never let this happen again. Find the keys, sweetheart,” my voice breaks as I imagine her going through any kind of pain because I wasn’t good enough to protect her.

  She swallows hard and obeys, reaching me the keys. I open the door to her house with little effort and carry her inside.

  The place is dim, the only light spilling from what I believe is the bedroom. As I kick the door shut, I hear the unmistakable sound of a deep, threatening snarl.

  “Oreo,” she calls. “Chill out.”

  I find the light switch next to the door and flick it on. Light bathes the living room and my gaze falls on a not exactly small dog, hair bristled between its shoulder-blades, teeth bared.

  Taking a step forward, I jut my chin out and watch him through slitted eyes. “Sit.”

  He does, plopping down on his haunches, the hair softening on his back again. His ears perk up as he studies us.

  Christine gasps, and her gaze snaps to me. “What kind of witchcraft was that? Are you a dog whisperer?”

  I shoot her a smile. “He just knows who’s the alpha between us.”

  This time, she laughs, her head dropping back, her arms still tight around my shoulders. I carry her into the bedroom and let my eyes take the place in. The walls are taken by pictures. Of people, of nature. Landscapes, dusk, and dawn. There’s a big number of dog pictures, not just from the one trotting behind us. And everything is so colorful. Baubles and plushies and rugs take every inch of the space. It’s her. There’s Christine written all over each of these walls. It’s soft and cozy, and the place feels like home.