I debate whether I should mention the bloke’s intention of dragging me to his car but I push the thought away. It isn’t a big deal, and not the first time someone tried something like that with me. Wackos are everywhere, and I can handle myself just fine.
My eyes fall on a red card on the ground, and I bend down to pick it up. The word Crimson is written on it together with an address.
“Can I have that back?” Gabe holds up his hand, and after glancing at the golden writing on the card again, I place it in his palm.
“Is that an invitation to a secret Masonic meeting? Are you going to wear one of those black, baggy, pointed face masksAmerican Psychostyle? Will there be any sexual rituals involved?”
Gabe just stares at me with eyes that don’t give anything away, and then points at my car. “Get in. I’ll tell Rami to pull the security footage and see if he can get a name on the guy who assaulted you.”
“Alright. What an anticlimactic end to this shite of a day,” I fake mumble as I take the few steps to my car and open the door while making a show of defeatedly sagging my shoulders. I get in the driver seat and turn a tired-looking gaze to Gabe, who’s staring at my Nissan Micro with an almost critical eye. It’s not much to look at, but is my supermini barracuda, nothing can stop her—not even my sportive driving.
He closes the car door, and then lingers for a few seconds as I roll down the car window.
“Call Sari or Michael to check on your head.” If he hadn’t uttered the words while walking away from me, I’d think he was sweet.
I adjust the rearview mirror to look at my reflection. My big soft curls hide the red spot where I took the hit, but I can feel the bruise forming on my temple. That won’t stop me from finding out what Crimson is and why Gabe is going there.
I take my phone out of my bag and slide it into the holder on top of the dash after typing the address I saw on that red card into Google Maps. I turn on the engine and steer the wheel toward the exit. I give the yellow barrier alove tapwith the frontbumper of my car as I stop to use my parking exit pass. I have to pull my entire torso out of the car window to reach the screen on top of the infernal machine, but the barrier eventually lifts.
I’m making my way out of the parking garage when I see Gabe’s pretentious ass gliding into the back seat of a shiny black car on the other side of the road. Now that I think about it, why was he inside the parking garage if a car was waiting for him outside?
My smirk turnswicked and Grinch-like as excitement starts to bubble inside me. I yell, “It’s stalking time!” And not my first time, either. I’ve learned a few things from my previous mistakes and let two cars follow Gabe’s before I enter the same lane.
“Siri, call Ollie.”
After two endless rings, my bestie picks up.
“Can you talk, or are you being plundered by KKJ?”
“What did I say about my husband’s nickname?” He sighs with exasperation.
Giving funny nicknames keeps my mischievous mind active—plus, Rague really looks like King Kong Junior.
“And hello to you too, bestie with boundary issues,” Ollie adds, making me snort. Like we don’t divulge every single detail of our horizontal rumbas to each other.
I send a colorful curse at the truck driver who cuts in front of me and hides Gabe’s hired black car from my sight. I have the address to Crimson, but tailing his car is so much more fun. Bugger!
“I wish my life had background music.” I sniff as I get a glimpse of my ruined black nail polish, such a perfect color for the middlefinger flipping I give to the coiffured lady trying to cross the street.
“I’m going to regret this, but why, Lori?”
“To accompany what the bloody hell is going on, of course,” I explain to him, as I push my head out of the window to spot Gabe’s car.
“Of course,” he patronizes me. “And what song would be playing?”
“Well, ten minutes ago, it’d have been “Milkshake” by Kelis since the prick who tried to assault me in the parking garage at work really wanted to…milk Papa Lori’s gherkin.”
“He what?”
“I’ll tell you later.” I swerve the supermini barracuda to the right and then make a hard turn as I follow the black car, leaving a chorus of honks behind me. “I need a stalking song. I didn’t prepare a new stalking playlist for this, so be a dear and don’t sing for me. Find Sully and ask him to do it.” Ollie sounds like a crow with a case of tonsillitis when he decides to sing.
“Where the heck are you, Lori?”
I pull my head back inside, dreading the reflection of my windblown hair. “Just a sec… Wow, old ladies are fearless when walking with those small chair-looking carts. They use them like a weapon. Respect.” I send her a flying kiss.
“Ha-cha-cha, motherfucker!” Then I scream at the pigeon flying too low near my car.
“You’re DRIVING?” He sounds surprised.
