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“He… he told me that he was single… and I believed him.” Her baby-blue eyes were as big as milk saucers. I could tell, without a shadow of a doubt, that she was telling the truth. “I had no idea he was dating someone—I swear.”
“I believe you.”
She blinked. “You do?”
“Yeah, sure. Colin here might be a lowlife, but I won’t deny he can be a smooth-talker when he wants something. That’s what reeled me in, and I’m sure the same thing happened to you too.”
She nodded vigorously. “I really had no idea.”
I grabbed her dress off the foot of the bed, handing it to her. “Sorry I called you a twat. I’m getting the fuck out of here, and if I were you, I’d bail on this loser too.”
“Piper, baby—”
“Pie-hole. Shut it.”
He snapped his jaw shut, his expression hovering somewhere between guilty and sullen.
What a fucking cock.
I grabbed his banana slippers again, holding one up to his face in a threatening gesture. “Don’t call me. Don’t text me. Lose my fucking number. Oh, and I’m taking these.”
Then I turned and stalked out, heaving my backpack onto my shoulders and slamming the door behind me.
It had started to drizzle outside. As I hit the street and started walking, I could hear an angry, high-pitched voice filter down from his open window. She was reaming him out too, by the sound of it.
Good for you, girl. Never be afraid to stand up for yourself.
A smile crept over my face. At least the fucker was getting what he deserved. With that thought to bolster me, I headed in the direction of my car.
Then I stopped. “Ah, damn it, that’s right. My car.”
I peered down the street, but the piece of useless metal I called a car was still almost a mile away. With my luck and in this shitty neighborhood, it’d probably already been taken apart, the pieces brought to the nearest scrap metal place.
“Guess I’m walking,” I muttered, cursing myself for stealing Colin’s slippers instead of a stupid umbrella. Changing course slightly, I headed in the direction of my apartment. It was only a few miles; my feet could take it. I could’ve called a cab, but I really didn’t want to spend the money if I could help it.
And I didn’t mind the rain too much. In fact, it was usually one of my favorite things. Rain always reminded me of my mother, and the nights we’d spent together by the fireplace just watching the rain falling along the windowpane. We’d played this game where we tried to guess what raindrop would make it down to the bottom first. Looking back on it now, I had the feeling my mother had made a habit of letting me win.
My dad?
He’d been MIA even then. Sometimes, a check would show up and help us buy groceries, but most of the time it didn’t. And at some point, he just disappeared off the face of the planet. It’d probably been close to ten years since I’d last heard his voice. I wondered whether he knew if mom was dead or not.
The wind picked up a bit, and I chucked Colin’s yellow slippers toward a dumpster in an alley I passed by, then tugged up the zipper on my leather jacket. As I wrapped my arms around myself to ward off the cold, a different sort of chill made a shiver run down the length of my spine as I heard a soft noise behind me.
I stopped and glanced over my shoulder.
The noise I had heard came to an abrupt stop too.
Narrowing my eyes, I peered into the darkness, but from what I could tell, there was no one there. Fuck. I shouldn’t have thrown away my weapons. Although if a mugger tried to attack me, I’d be better off hitting him with one of my textbooks—or the whole fucking backpack—than a damn banana slipper.
I was no stranger to staying safe on the street; experience and a few self-defense classes had taught me how to avoid most dangerous situations.
Keeping my senses alert, I turned and headed down the sidewalk again. As I neared the downtown area, the streets became less desolate. This area wasn’t the social hub of Seattle by any means, but college students and their dropout counterparts still came to drink and dance at the seedy bars and clubs here. Some of them had neon hair, while others sported heavy chains that hung from collars around their neck. Others were dressed in more traditional club wear, and some even looked downright preppy.
The street lamps made my shadow stretch out on the damp pavement ahead of me, and a couple of times, I thought I saw another shadow on the ground moving toward me, but when I glanced over my shoulder, nothing was there.
Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling I was being followed. And one of the first lessons I’d learned in self-defense class was to trust my instincts.
Picking up my pace and ignoring the pain in my feet, I hurried toward a dive bar on the next corner. A blonde girl stood outside, one foot resting against the side of the building as she leaned against it, typing something on her phone. Without an ounce of hesitation, I walked right up to her and pulled her into a hug.
