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“It’s life. I make it work.”
“Ella, I have to practically kidnap you to have any fun in life. Look at tonight, you went to the club, danced all night, and even got a drink on the house from the sexy bartender. Hell, you’re still home before your bedtime.” She snickered, clearly entertaining herself.
My mood plummeted faster than a roller coaster on its steepest dive. “You know why I don’t go out.”
A heavy silence filled the car, shattering the lighter mood.
Her expression softened and compassion filled her pretty features. “Babe, you have to stop hiding. Live your life.”
“I’m working on it.” I shook my head. I opened the door and started to climb out. Glancing at my bestie, my heart softened. “I love you for being an amazing friend. And I’ll think about talking to the hot bartender again.”
“Do. Or do not. There is no try,” she replied in her best Yoda imitation. “And the hot bartender is absolutely delicious with those blue eyes and broad shoulders.”
With a mix of frustration and weariness due to my situation, I reminded myself that Cami was on my side and only wanted the best for me. “Drive safe.” I blew her a kiss before I closed the door.
Drawing a deep, steadying breath, I made my way to the front door of my house, my sanctuary. Among my friends, I was the only one who had managed to purchase my own home. It wasn't luck or chance; it was sheer willpower and meticulous planning. I had set a goal for myself to own a place by twenty-nine, and I'd made it a reality.
Slipping the key into the deadbolt, it clicked, and I opened the heavy front door. As a single female, I wanted to feel safe at night and had selected higher-quality doors for greater protection.
Once inside, I slipped off my heels. My feet killed me from dancing all night. I secured the lock and tossed my keys into the brown wood bowl on the hall table. It was almost one in the morning, and I was exhausted, but I had to unwind and then take a hot shower before I tumbled into bed.
I scooped up the pieces of mail I’d tossed on the coffee table before leaving for the club. The television remote caught the soft light of the lamp, and I retrieved it from the grey sofa before I sat down. The sound from the news filled the otherwise quiet space.
“A serial killer is on the loose, and police are reminding residents of Portland to lock their doors, windows, and use an alarm system if available,” the female announcer said.
“What?” I leaned forward, listening intently.
“With three murders occurring in the last two months, police have come forward, and a full investigation to catch the murderer is underway. No other details have been supplied at this time.”
Shocked, I collected my phone from my back pocket and messaged Cami.
Me:
Shit, we have a psycho on the loose. Have you heard about the serial killer in the area?
Cami:
Girl, what the hell have I told you about watching the news? It just creates fear and anxiety. However, I guess the serial killer is kind of important.
Me:
Maybe I should get an alarm system.
Cami:
I’m on the eighth floor of an apartment building, so I think I’m safe unless the killer is Spider-Man and wants to scale the building.
Me:
Lock your doors and don’t bring home any strangers. I’m taking you shopping at Adam and Eve to curb your insatiable appetite soon.
Cami:
Sweet! Just tell me when, and I’m game. LOL
Me:
LOL. Love ya, bitch.
