Chapter 15

Red drug me around like a life size Barbie, barking orders, try this dress, try those pants. Then, when she was finally satisfied with what I had on, she turned her attention onto a poor hairdresser. Make it big! Curls, bitch! Curlier!

By the time we walked into the Happy Nail Time Salon, my exhaustion had hit a new height. Girl's days had never been my thing, never having really had girls. But Red treated it like a profession, as if it were her job to tackle the challenge.

When the little woman lead us over to a set of chairs, each at its own station but still directly next to each other, Red seemed to chill the fuck out a bit.

"Are you having fun?" she asked.

I paused for a long moment. "Yes?" I looked down at my new outfit. Skin tight jeans too ripped to donate, and a T-shirt advertising a band I'd never heard of. I should have been grateful. She'd done all this to me. For me. She did it for me.

"Great!" Two women sat down in front of us in unison, and Red turned her attention towards them. "I'd like red. She wants black."

I chewed the inside of my cheek and tried to smile at the woman in front of me. "Black it is."

She gave me a smile in return, seemingly unaware that I'd been taken hostage. Amelia Snow escapes kidnapper, then gets kidnapped again by a new brand of torturer. I could have left, had thought about it more than once, but couldn't gather the courage to actually follow through.

This girl was my roommate, and now, my best friend apparently. I couldn't just snub her. Besides, it was kind of hard to be awkward when she never gave me the chance. As a matter of fact, this was almost relaxing in a way. My mind didn't need to work at all. Red's ran rampant enough to account for the both of us.

"Your hand?" the woman prompted, and I looked down at the purse currently gripped in mine.

Red noticed, and watched as I carefully placed the bag between my feet. "What's with the attachment? Is that like your blankey or something?"

I shook my head. "No. I've just got something important in there I can't lose."

"Like what?"

The women worked, remaining silent and feigning not to listen in. I racked my brain for an answer. Rocks. Stones. The truth would only bring more questions, questions I couldn't answer. I thought of why I needed them so bad. "A restraining order."

Her eyes widened. "For real? Against who?"

"A stalker," I replied dryly. "It's the only thing that seems to keep him away."

Red's eyes darted to the purse then back to me. "Is he an ex? Or just some random? Is he dangerous?"

"He's gone now," I said, my voice suddenly quiet. I stared down at the purse, practically feeling the magic inside it. He wasn't gone. Not yet.

"That's creepy. You gave me goosebumps." She held out her arm, showing me. "I used to watch movies about that kind of stuff. The men are always hot as hell in those. Like- in real life- that's not how it happens. I bet your dude looks like the guy from Texas Chainsaw Massacre."

I didn't say a word.

Thankfully, Red didn't pause for an answer. "Speaking Of hot guys. There's going to be a few at the party."

My eyes darted over to her. She held an expectant expression.

"I don't do parties."

"I know," she said, maintaining eye contact. "That's what you said. That's why we're here. That's why we're going."

What was it with her? "I don't–"

Red cut me off as she turned back to study her hands. "Don't worry about it. It's nothing huge. Just a small get together. I know everyone who's going to be there." Her voice had a dismissive quality, and for some reason, I didn't argue further.

The woman in front of me released my hand and smiled. "You can go dry," she said, pointing to a set of chairs facing the front windows. Tables lined the front, and dryers sat in a row of four upon their surface.

I stood, hooking my purse over my wrist and holding my hands out in front of me. The woman followed, and the moment I was seated with my hands inside the device, she pressed the button to turn it on. "Wait here until the light turns red. Then I'll check."

I nodded just as she walked away. My gaze took in the parking lot, the many cars and shoppers.

Then, the man.

The very familiar man.

Just across the lot, leaned against the back of a large pickup truck.

Brady lifted a hand and waved. A wiggly fingered wave. The creepiest of all the fucking waves.

"You alright?" Red asked. I'd been so preoccupied, I hadn't even heard her walk up and take the spot beside me.

"I'm fine." I looked at the glowing blue light upon my hands, then let my eyes dart up once again.

He was closer, but still a good distance away.

"Do you know him?" Red asked.

I grit my teeth. She could see him. Of course he'd let her see him. If it wasn't convenient, Brady made it happen. How talented. "That's the guy," I said, not even bothering to lie.

Red made a noise. "No shit!" She shifted in her seat. "The movies were true." Her voice was an awed breath.

I rolled my eyes. "He's an asshole."

"They usually are." She continued to stare at him. "They know they're pretty. That's why." She was quiet a moment. "How long?"

I looked at her. "Long time, but hopefully soon, I'll finally be done with it."

Red's head bobbed in thoughtful agreement. "I could try to distract him if you want." Her eyes darted to Brady, full of interest.

For some reason, it pissed me off, and the fact that it did, pissed me off even more. "I wouldn't," I huffed, zeroing in on my hands with no intention of looking back up.

Red laughed, then nudged my shoulder with her's. "I'm just fucking with you."

"It doesn't matter." I stared at the green light, willing it to change so I could move away from the window. His gaze seemed to penetrate me, even from a distance. I shifted, feeling the weight of the purse in my lap, and wishing I could reach inside to touch the stones.

Red hummed, pulling my attention back to her. She held a smug expression, knowing.

She didn't know shit.

"He looks intense," she commented, a soft smile lifting her lips. "He's staring at you pretty hardcore."

"That's what stalkers do." I looked up, and sure enough, Brady was staring at me. The moment my eyes met his, he tilted his head, then in a slow move his hand lifted and one finger crooked in a come here motion.

I shook my head slowly, trying my best to school my features into a death glare.

Red made a snorting noise. "You don't look scary at all."

I turned the glare on her.

"Look. If you really want him gone, just act like me. It seems to work." Her voice grew dry at the end.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm annoying," she stated plainly. "Guys don't like a girl with personality."

Guilt hit me, but I didn't know what to say so I just didn't say anything at all. Instead, I changed the subject, choosing for one I thought she'd appreciate. "He is hot though, huh?"

Red's smile returned, the widest I'd seen from her. "He definitely is. Dammit, man! You could do much worst in terms of a stalker."

I rolled my eyes again, but a grin tilted my lips. "But he's not someone you'd want to get mixed up with."

"Why?" she asked. "What's his defect? It better be a good one, that's all I'm saying."

"He–" I paused. I couldn't exactly say the truth. "He's always scaring the hell out of me."

"How?" She looked down at her hands, then back to me.

"He–" Holy hell, this was hard. How do you explain, when you can't explain? "He– he does shit to scare me. On purpose. Always has for as long as I've known him."

"Like pranks?" Red asked.

I thought about it. Prank was an understatement, but when I thought about it, also pretty accurate. I shrugged. "I guess that's one way to describe it."

"That's not a good enough reason," Red stated.

"There's more, but–"

"Look," Red said. "He's helping a fucking lady with her groceries."

My eyes darted up, and he was. Brady smiled at the woman, then at the children currently running around them as he hefted her bags into the back of a Jeep. No. "He's doing that on purpose!"

Red made a face at me. "You're right," she drawled. "How very sinister."

I chewed the inside of my cheek. "Why is he here?" I said. "Don't you think, if a girl tells a guy to back off, he shouldn't randomly show up and stare at her?" My eyebrows lifted as I waited for her response.

Red shrugged. "I think it's sweet."

The light turned red, and I jumped up from the table. "I'm done talking about it."

Red's held fell back as far as it could, and she looked up at me. "I'm sowwy. I'll take your side. That guys awful. What a creep. He shouldn't be allowed to breathe the air on this earth. The dick!"

I wanted to be mad. The anger was there, the irritation prickled my skin. It wasn't a joke. It wasn't funny.

But it was.

Or, more specifically, Red was.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, not knowing if I should laugh or scream. "Fine. Thank you. Let's just talk about your party now." I'd go. I'd go to her party. I'd even get high, if she'd just stop talking about Brady.

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