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“Don’t follow me!”
Chapter 32
Kat
Johnny never slept in my roomwhen I was living here before. I wasn’t the one who fed him, so he didn’t show any particular interest in me, and that feeling was mutual.
But for the past couple of days, he’shardly ever left my side, even when I wanted him to. He’s not a lap cat, but he seems to enjoy human company during his naps, and for now, that honor is bestowed upon me. Maybe he even missed me. He’s curled up into black ball of fur next to me, as I sit on the bed, cross-legged and a book in my hand. Reading has always been my go-to escape, and it has once again become my sanctuary since my break-up with Logan.
Can I even call it that? A break-up? It’s not like we were together for real, we just pretended to be. And despite all he did for me, despite the way he looked at me, the way he seemed to care, the way he fucked me—all of that was just a lie, needed to serve his purpose. He needed me, that’s why he treated me the way he did, not because he had feelings for me.
I need to remember that—no matter how much my heart aches.
I can’t let my feelings for him warp the reality that he is a bad man, a criminal who I need to stay away from. Another criminal I was stupid enough to fall in love with. I had to tear myself away from him, despite this treacherous pain that insists on pushing me back into his arms.
I just wish that my books weren’t still with him. I needed to get away from him as quickly as possible and packed in a hurry, leaving most of my books at his penthouse.
He has been calling and messaging me ever since, but I ignored all of his attempts. I don’t want to talk to him. He’d only use it as an opportunity to pressure and convince me to come back and continue his charade, luring me in with the money I so desperately need.
And I’m not sure if I’m strong enough to say no. He is bad news, no matter how much he’s trying to convince me otherwise. I don’t want anything to do with his drug-dealing family and the environment that surrounds him. I’ve been there, and I remember all too well where it led me. I have no idea where I would have ended up if it hadn’t been for Mrs. Warden—and now she’s saving me again, when I’m the one who should be saving her.
I still have most of the money from the down payment, and I’m determined to use it to help Mrs. Warden with her medical expenses. Maybe we could even get her to be seen by another specialist. I will have to figure out how to go about this, especially knowing that she will fight me along the way. She still thinks I’mdirt-poor, and me moving back in with her certainly didn’t help with that impression. I told her that we had water damage due to a bursting pipe at the apartment I allegedly moved into with ‘a friend from work.’ I told her I’d only have to stay for a short while until it was fixed. I don’t have much time until that lie gets busted.
There’s only one way for me to go—back to The Velvet Rooms. I don’t have much of a choice. If I can get my old job back, I might actually have a chance to get back on my feet sooner rather than later, and Mrs. Warden would never have to find out what really happened. I would gladly push my own dreams and ambitions aside, if this means I could help her in this time of need.
The sound of the doorbell rings into my thoughts, and I hear her moving down the corridor outside my room to get the door. Mrs. Wardenisa social person and often receives visitors randomly throughout the day—much to the dismay of her reclusive cat, who immediately hides under the bed every time a visitor announces herself. I watch Johnny as he goes into hiding and wish I could join him. These days I share his aversion to company and have been holed up in my room for most of the time.
I hear voices outside the door. Mrs. Warden’s voice, politely chatting away, and a male voice responding to her.
A familiar male voice.
Thunderstruck, I sit up, my ears pricked and my heart beating against my ribcage with urgent speed.
It can’t be. That voice. It can’t be who I think it is.
But a knock on my door supports my suspicion, and it is confirmed a moment later, when the door swings open—and I’m met with Mrs. Warden’s apologetic smile, followed by the last person on Earth I want to see right now.
Patrick.
What the hell ishedoing here?
“I’m sorry to ambush you like this, dear,” Mrs. Warden says, standing with her shoulder slumped and her back curved, making her look even shorter than she already is. “He was worried about you—as am I, to be frank.”
My mouth falls open and I stare at the two of them, bereft of words, as I try to process what’s happening right now. Patrick waves at me, a mellow smile on his face and his stance slightly crouched, as if he knew how inappropriate his presence is.
“Hi Kat,” he says, stepping inside the room without waiting for an invitation. “I thought we could have a little chat.”
“About what?” I blurt out, still aghast.
My eyes flit over to Mrs. Warden, who sends me a conciliatory shrug.
“You’re so withdrawn and seem distressed,” she tries to explain. “I just had a feeling that something was going on with you. And I understand that maybe I’m not the person you’d want to share your problems with.”
But my cheating ex-boyfriend is? What was she thinking? I didn’t go into detail when I told her about our break-up but right now I wish I had. She would never have invited him if she knew what he did to me, I’m sure.
Awkward silence stretches between us, while I throw Patrick a what-the-fuck-look, filled with unspoken questions. Why would he even be in contact with Mrs. Warden? Those two barely talked to each other, even when Patrick and I were still together—and now they’re scheming behind my back?
“I’ll leave you two alone,” Mrs. Warden announces, as she shuffles backward and out the door—followed by a small orb of black fur who runs after her.
