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“I was at the hospital,” I repeat, glad my voice doesn’t sound too shaky.
“Yeah? Had a little emergency to take care of?” he snorts. “Girls like you are the worst.”
I’m so grateful that one of our regulars asks for help getting a cat tree down from the highest shelf. I run to my station before he can find me again. It’s Saturday, so things get busy afterwards.
He has been a huge dick from the start. I think the fact that I know more than him about pet care although he’s worked there full time for a couple of years gets on his nerves. He’s also clearly jealous of my attending Rothford—I don’t think he ever had the opportunity to study at any college, let alone a luxurious one like Rothford.
It shouldn’t be my problem, but he’s making it my fault.
If there was another job where I have any experience, I’d quit to avoid him—but positions get snatched up at the speed of light in Thorn Falls.
Larry’s shift ends at four, and we’re rushed off our feet, so I don’t have to deal with him again. Maria takes his place, and I get to work in peace for the rest of the day.
24
SARAH
Hours later, dead on my feet, arms aching with everything I had to lift and stock and carry, I’m waiting for the bus to get back to campus, on the main road, right off Main Street.
Although it’s past nine, daylight is only just shifting into night, exploding in purples and oranges over the hills.Thorn Falls is such a picturesque place—at least, the richer part of town can be.
I force my attention away from the beauty of my surroundings and check the schedule—though I know it well enough to guess the next bus will be here in fifteen minutes.
I’m about to sit to wait, headphones in hand, when an expensive pick-up slows to a stop right in front of me.
I stiffen even before the window rolls down to reveal Marius Goltz.Then my heart skips a beat, my breathing becoming shorter.
I’d love to say the reaction was pure fear. It should be. But I’m familiar with panic, and this isn’t it.
“What are you thinking, strutting around town at this time?”
He makes it sound like I’m streetwalking.
I stubbornly keep my eyes fixed on my phone, ignoring the hell out of him.
“Get your ass in, your highness,” he demands.
I can’t help my snort, so I don’t glance up. Instead, I bring my headphones to my ears and pretend I can’t hear him.
His bossy ass can fuck all the way off. He doesn’t get to dictate my actions, or speak to me like that. He doesn’t get to address me at all.
Suddenly, I get where he’s coming from with his stupid nickname; I do tend to sound and act rather haughty where he’s concerned. And I certainly don’t plan to stop anytime soon.
“For a girl supposed to have a stalker, you don’t seem concerned what the fuck happens to you,” he says, sounding accusatory as hell.
He’s made no secret of the fact that he doesn’t believe me—doesn’t trust me.I shouldn’t care one bit. Why would I give a shit? He’s just a stranger.
But I do. For some reason, I do.
The thing is, I know Brandon really well. He’s not the kind of guy who’d grab me off the street to drag me to a murder site. He doesn’t need to. Not with what he has on me.
I suppose Marius could do the same sort of thing to me, given what he’s recorded, but I doubt he would.Marius is using our little porn fest as collateral to stay out of jail for kidnapping. I know the latter part of that session with him would make him look completely innocent; I seemed like a willing participant. An eager participant, even.
Brandon is another beast.
When I was sixteen, he came to me, all smirks, and showed me fast-forwarded snapshots: video clips from all the times I was touching myself. Which was often. I loved masturbating back then—a habit he cured me of. The deal was simple: I could do whatever he wanted, or he would show it to everyone at school, post it online, making me a fucking porn star before I could vote.
So I did what he wanted.
