“She dead?”
When he catches up with me at the opposing sidewalk he grabs my shoulder and tries to spin me around, but I stop and plant myself hard into the ground, keeping him from moving me. I don’t really want to deal with him right now, let alone look at him.
“No.” I say, shaking his hand off me and grabbing for the door to the café.
“Why not?” He spits out, following me in the door, sounding out of breath and irritated, making me stop just inside the door and turn around to face him.
“You didn’t tell me that the Recluse is Dani.” I snarl in his face, planting my hands on his chest and pushing him backwards out the door, closing it in his face as his brown eyes widen and he looks as shocked as I felt when I found out.
“I didn’t know.” He calls out through the door, not attempting to open it, because he knows better.
He can tell by my disposition that if he follows me again it will not end happily for him. He might be a rich kid all grown up, and in over his head sometimes with the family’s business, but he’s not stupid.
Ignoring him and leaving him standing there baffled on the outside of the small establishment, I grab the first seat I can find that’s empty and away from the clatter of the kitchen and the typing of laptop keys.
It’s a little loveseat meant for two, but I stretch out on the paisley fabric, putting my leg up on it, and lean back, closing my eyes, needing the dark and quiet to finish processing everything from the past twenty-four hours.
Dani, my Danielle is the fucking Recluse. I killed her boyfriend, and she sent an assassin for me. This is just too fucked up, even for me.
I need to talk to her, to figure out what all this is about, and for the answers I never got from her before. So I sit and wait, passing the day away as the sun moves across the sky and then disappears at the horizon. It’s a long, boring time that I sit still, keeping my gaze locked on the inside of my eyelids. I’m not worried about missing her, I know her scent now, and her aura. Like a cadaver dog, I’ll be able to feel and smell her when she arrives.
If she arrives.
“Well, well, well, who do we have here?” A female voice says from right in front of me, and I recognize it immediately. It’s the fiery ginger best friend who hates me for reasons unknown. I’d never even met the bitch till a day ago.
“Fuck off, Allie.” I grunt, shooing her away with the flap of my hands without even cracking an eye to look at her.
She’s alone, that I can feel, as well as the disdain that leeches out of her regarding me.
“How about you fuck off. Leave her alone. She left you. Take the fucking hint.” She spits at me, her words laced with hate.
“Such a good friend you are. Now be a good little girl and scamper on.”
“Fuck you.”
“No thanks. But I’ll fuck Dani when she comes back to me.”
“In your dreams, asshole.”
“Mmmm yes, and such nice, hot, and wet dreams they are.”
With a sick gagging noise she storms away and instantly the air fees lighter again, weighed down only by the smells of the cinnamon rolls and other pastries offered by the place.
She’s barely out of range when the little bell above the door rings and I’m smacked in the face with the fresh and sweet smell of jasmine. It invades my nose like a welcomed intruder as I breathe deeply, sucking it all into me.
There you are sweetheart.
Peeling one eye open, I watch as Dani walks up to the front counter and leans on it, talking to the barista like they’re good friends. I watch as she laughs and jokes with her, with a bright smile on her pretty face.
“Well you’re not too worked up over your boyfriend’s death.” I mumble to myself quiet enough that no one around me can hear it, but I swear she does, because her grin falls and she looks right at me.
Her brows furrow and she literally crosses her arms over her chest and stomps her foot like a spoiled child who was just told she couldn’t have nuggies and fries for dinner. It makes me chuckle softly, because I remember that attitude. It was one of the things I loved about her.
Smiling at her I lean back, stretching my arm over the back of the seat, making it obvious that I’m ogling her, and when she scowls at me, I throw her a playful wink.
Come on baby, you know you’re curious, you little brat. Mmmm, brat. I used to adore that side of you.
The memories of her being a spoiled little thing that had me wrapped around her little finger remind me of the best times of my life. When I kept working and play separately. I would do my “job” then come home to her and take her in every which way possible.
