A woman stalked her? Fuck it, that doesn’t matter, I’d still give her what she deserves if she gets out of prison.
“Then tell me what she did before I imagine shit that makes me want to kill her.”
“Jesus, do you have to jump to killing people?”
“When they hurt people I-” I cut off and Kinsley stiffens. “Just tell me,” I say through gritted teeth.
“I need a drink,” she gets out of bed and stalks out the door, muttering that she can’t be lying in bed while she says all this.
This is the second time tonight she’s said that. Using sex and alcohol to get through her problems isn’t great. But we can talk about that later.
My clothes are out in the living room, so I grab the towel again. When she sees me, she rolls her eyes and grabs two mugs, going to the coffee machine.
Thank fuck she hasn’t gone for the bottle of tequila on the shelf. Once my underwear and jeans are on, Kinsley turns and hands me a mug.
She remains standing by the kitchen counter. Instead of sitting down, I lean my ass against the back of the couch and watch her.
“She was my friend in college,” she starts without me prompting her. “We were close, shared a dorm, then an apartment in senior year. LA is so expensive it made sense we got a place together.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to say,who gives a fuck about that part,and force her to get to the point.
That’s the wrong thing to do. She has to do it her own way, I cannot be the impatient asshole who acts first and deals with the consequences later.
Being here is proof those tactics don’t work. Kinsley isn’t Nero, who would kick my ass but not need to forgive me for anything shitty I say. Kinsley will push me away, and I don’t want that.
“She came from old money and didn’t need to have college housing, but she wanted the full experience, or so she said. She was there for me when it all started. Phone calls, emails, saying stupid shit that was more irritating than scary. You know, heavy breathing kind of bullshit. Then pictures started showing up.”
“Of what?”
“Me, with the eyes cut out.”
I straighten up at hearing that, she gives me a murderous look, so I bite my tongue. Again.
“I got the cops involved, but they couldn’t do anything.”
“That is the bullshit that gets women hurt or killed,” I snarl.
“Well, I’m not hurt or dead as you can see. I was paranoid about everything. Anyone new I met, I’d be… scared. And I hated that shit. I was so angry and didn’t understand why someone was targeting me. Anyway, things got worse before they got better.” She has a sip of her coffee.
Anyone else and I’d expect them to be upset talking about it. Kinsley looks angry enough she is close to throwing the mug.
“I got the feeling someone was watching me, not just trying to scare me with calls and stupid threats. When things in my room were moved around, enough that only I could tell, the cops still wouldn’t help. It scared me enough to get a gun,” she looks at me. “From a guy I was seeing. He was in an MC,” she adds, her expression daring me to be an asshole about it.
Is she fucking serious? After that total bullshit with the t-shirt she actually did date some cunt from another MC. Now I’m murderous for a whole different reason. Not only at this fucker, but him giving her a goddamn gun which was probably stolen and unregistered. The rage is simmering close to the top. This is someone else I need to fuck up.
“Don’t get all pissy, Rebel. He didn’t want to give it to me. I made him do it.”
“Doesn't make him any less of a pussy,” I grumble. He should have protected her, not given her something that could get her fucking killed.
“He helped me out.”
“Bet he thought he was a fucking hero.”
Okay, now I sound like a pussy.
“The cops still weren’t taking me seriously. I got it to protect myself. Kane showed me how to use it. Oh fuck off,” she groans at my expression.
It’s a wonder my tongue isn’t fucking bleeding. Now I have a name. I need to find out which club he rides with.
