Toxic Bad Boy

by April Brookshire

  Dating and getting naked. Wow, was that a knife entering my gut or this helpful bitch’s sharp claws?

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  Her smile turned sly. “We girls gotta watch out for each other.”

  Right, I was totally feeling her sisterly love. “How the heck did you even know who I was?”

  She shrugged. “Internet and social media. I’m good with computers.”

  Funny, she didn’t look like a hacker, but what did I know? I grabbed the handle of my cart, smiling with fake sweetness. “Thanks for the heads up, but I’m not stupid enough to believe some girl who stalked me to the grocery store to impart the information.”

  With that, I wheeled my cart the hell out of there. I’d find Chance’s chicken nuggets and everything else on my list at another store.

  *****

  The day was already crappy and now I stood staring down at the mess on the garage’s concrete floor. Just great. The spaghetti sauce that was meant for tonight was splattered along with broken chunks of glass.

  First a strange girl tells me Caleb had another girlfriend while we were broken up for two short weeks and that he screwed around with her and now I had to plan something else for dinner.

  After putting away the rest of the groceries, I took paper towels, a trash can and a broom into the garage to clean up. Chance was with my mom today and I’d be alone until either my dad or Caleb showed up.

  And I really wanted to speak with Caleb.

  I was not a chef, so the options were limited. Spaghetti had become a once-a-week event. Breakfast for dinner was also a regular menu item. I had all the stuff for fettuccine alfredo so that plus frozen garlic bread I could pop in the oven was the meal I decided on.

  I wouldn’t need to start dinner for another forty-five minutes, so I grabbed the mailbox key off the entry table and walked to the mailbox. Dialing Caleb on my way, I got his voicemail. He was hanging out with Dante this afternoon but planned to come over for dinner. I didn’t leave a message.

  Retrieving the mail from our slot, I locked the mailbox and sorted through it as I went back to the house. All of it was generically addressed junk mail or bills for my dad except a large yellow envelope with my name on it.

  The envelope looked official, with Gianna Thorpe printed on it and the name of some lawyer’s office as the sender. It would round out a crappy day to find out I was being sued or something equally as bad. Could a seventeen-year-old be sued?

  Leaving my dad’s mail and the junk mail on the front table, I tore open the manila envelope as I entered the living room. The only contents were a sheet of binder paper. Unfolding it, I read the note.

  Written in thick penciled letters was, Ha! ha! Got you, bitch. Can’t wait to fuck you up.

  The single sheet of paper floated onto the coffee table.

  My cell phone beeped from my pocket, but I stood staring at the ugly words staring up at me.

  Got you, bitch.

  Got you, bitch.

  Suddenly, all I could see was Josh’s face contorted in rage and his angry words, You’re a cold bitch.

  I screamed, running to the front door to double check the deadbolt. From there I made sure all the doors and windows on the bottom floor were secure. Upstairs, I locked my bedroom door, then went into the bathroom and locked it, also. Hiding in the shower seemed like a good idea. I should have thought to snatch Chance’s baseball bat from his bedroom. Or a really big knife like on a scary movie.

  Got you, bitch.

  With shaky hands I called my dad’s cell. He answered with me on speakerphone. “I’m almost home.”

  “Dad! Someone wants to kill me. I think it might be Josh!” I felt a panic attack coming on and struggled to fight it.

  “Are you home?” he pressed.

  “Yeah,” I told him between deep breaths. “I’m in my bathroom.”

  “Is someone in the house?”

  “I don’t think so,” I told him.

  “Listen, I’m going to hang up and I want you to call 911.”

  I pictured cops showing up at the house and me handing over the threatening letter, followed by a lecture on wasting their time.

  “It was a letter,” I informed my dad.

  “A letter?” he asked, his voice steadier. “I’m turning onto our street now.”

  “Um, yeah, a letter from someone who wants to hurt me.”

  My dad exhaled loudly into his phone. “Damn, Gianna, you scared the crap out of me.”

  Yep, a super crappy day, like top ten list.

  “Do you still want me to call the police?” I asked.

  “I’m pulling into the garage. Just in case, I’ll come up to get you.”

  “Okay,” I said in a small voice, feeling incredibly stupid.

  “Caleb just pulled up in front of the house,” my dad said.

  My boyfriend, who may have fit a mini relationship into the two weeks we were broken up. “I think I just missed a text from him.”

  “Gianna, I need to see the letter and then we’ll file a report at the police station.” We’d probably have to Google for the location. Then again, maybe Caleb already knew where it was.

  “Letters,” I told my dad, unlocking the bathroom door and peeking out before going to lean against my bedroom door. “This is the second one.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “If you are meant to be together forever, you will survive any obstacle or trouble that comes to you.”

  -Unknown

  CALEB

  Chris Thorpe’s face was tight with displeasure when he opened the front door. “Caleb,” he greeted curtly and moved out of the doorway.

  “Hey,” I said cautiously, edging past him to get to my girl where she stood in the foyer with her phone gripped in one hand.

  She didn’t look any happier to see me. In fact, the blue fire in her eyes told me she was pissed at me. But there was something else there, worry, maybe fear.

  My eyes darted between Gianna and her dad. “What’s up?”

  Her dad shut the front door, locking it. “I just got home, but Gianna and I are leaving to visit the police station.”

  All trace of anger left her expression, leaving only the fear and worry. Alarm creeping in, I approached my girlfriend. “Why are you going to the cops?”

  “Where is it, Gianna?” her dad asked abruptly.

  “Living room,” she said softly, leaning into my side on an exhale.

  As Chris went into the living room, I guided her with an arm around her waist to follow. “What’s he talking about, Gianna?”

  She pulled away, sitting on the end of the couch as her dad stared down at a piece of notebook paper. Avoiding my eyes, she explained, “It’s a threatening letter, to me.”

  Taking several steps, I gestured for her dad to hand it to me. The words were fire and ice in my veins. Anger burned, but a chill went through me at the thought of someone wanting to hurt her.

  Ha! ha! Got you, bitch. Can’t wait to fuck you up.

  Who the hell would send this?

  “You said there was another letter,” Chris said. “Where is it?”

  Gianna nervously ran a hand down the front of her skirt. “Upstairs in my desk.”

  “Go get it,” he ordered. Her lips trembled and I started toward her, but she got up and threw herself into her dad’s arms. “Shh, baby, it’s okay,” he soothed, rubbing her back.

  “I’ll go get it,” I said, annoyed she hadn’t run to me instead. Her dad gave me a strange look over her head. It wasn’t until I was halfway up the stairs I realized he wouldn’t like the idea of me in her bedroom for any reason.

  Her dainty desk had a set of drawers on one side. She was organized, having a tray in the top drawer for her stationary crap. I opened the bottom drawer, finding a blue envelope at the top of a pile of letters. Picking it up, I pulled out the greeting card and read the handwritten note. Inside the Get Well Soon card was written, Because I’m going to cut you up, whore.

  Someone wa
s obviously eager to die. Josh’s name came to mind, but he was locked up and with the restraining order, his mail out of the high-risk youth corrections facility was monitored.

  I was about to push the drawer closed when I saw the pile of letters tied together with a light green ribbon. Thumbing the edges of them, I confirmed they were all from me. Underneath was another pile tied with the same color ribbon. Damn, I probably wouldn’t write this many letters total for the rest of my life. Often, I wouldn’t wait for her to respond before I’d mail another one.

  The fact that she’d saved every single one unlocked some previously unknown sentimental part of my heart. I’d saved all her letters to reread while in juvie and they were now in a shoebox in my closet at home.

  As I returned downstairs, Chris’s authoritative voice drifted from the living room. Standing in the doorway, I saw they’d moved to sit on the couch, with Gianna still in her dad’s arms.

  Not liking the weird vibes I was getting from Gianna, I sat on the other side of her, passing Chris the card I’d replaced in the blue envelope. Gianna’s cheeks pinkened as he read it. Bitch was bad enough, but a daddy’s girl probably wouldn’t like her dad knowing someone had called her whore.

  Not that either label were remotely true of her. I’d known chicks who were bitches or whores, sometimes both, and she wasn’t.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about this sooner?” her dad asked.

  “It slipped my mind,” she said, biting her bottom lip guiltily.

  “This could be serious,” her dad said, not addressing her pathetic excuse. He didn’t need to say aloud that it could be a situation like with Josh.

  “It looks like a girl’s handwriting,” I pointed out.

  “It does,” Chris said thoughtfully. “But it could still be serious if it’s a female, so we’ll have to file a report so the police are at least aware of the situation in case it escalates.”

  Putting an arm around Gianna, I helped her up. “If it’s okay with you, Chris, I’ll drive her there and we’ll meet you. I need to talk with her.”

  Gianna’s eyes flew to mine and she looked about to protest but I squeezed her hip to silence her. Since I’d arrived she’d gone back and forth from being cold to holding onto me for comfort.

  He gripped both envelopes in one hand, appearing reluctant to let her out of his sight. Finally, he nodded, using his phone to look up the nearest police station. “I’ll text you the address.”

  I ended up driving behind Chris to the station. Alone with my girl, I was able to question her. “Why didn’t you tell me about the first letter?”

  She shrugged, gazing out the window so I could see only her jaw. “I’d mostly forgotten about it and we weren’t talking at the time.”

  Her answer was believable, but something was still off between us. “When did you get the first letter?”

  “About a week and a half ago. Monday, I think.”

  “Okay, and why did you look mad at me when I showed up?”

  Her head whipped around, the blue fire blazing brighter. “Who the hell is Norah?”

  Holy shit, now was not the time. How did she even know about Norah? “Where’d you hear that name?”

  She frowned and her eyebrows drew closer. “What does it matter? I asked you a question.”

  Staring at the back of her dad’s SUV, I told her, “This girl that interns at the gallery.”

  “And that’s it?”

  I’d allow nothing to come between me and Gianna again, especially some chick who meant nothing to me. Norah was a mistake I’d made driven by a broken heart. “She’s not important.”

  “It’s important to me that you tell me the truth. You said you didn’t have sex with anyone when we were broken up.”

  Stopping at a red light, I gave her my full attention. “I’ve never lied to you, Gianna.”

  “Why are you dodging my questions?” she said in exasperation, crossing her arms under her breasts and distracting me from the multiple problems of the moment.

  “Look, we’re almost there and now isn’t the time. We’ll talk about what didn’t happen with Norah tonight.”

  “Fine,” she muttered in a way that let me know she’d be giving me hell later. Not that her attitude worried me. As long as she loved me, I could fix anything between us.

  The last time I’d been in a police station I was getting arrested for putting Josh in the hospital. Thrown into a cell with Ian, I’d had to watch him pace our cage like a tiger until he’d finally gone to sleep.

  This visit was almost as bad. Chris’s wrath was just under the surface as he spoke to the cop taking the statement. Gianna held back tears I knew would embarrass her if released.

  Josh’s name was brought up and her dad took over telling the story. When asked if there was anyone else who would want to hurt her, we drew a blank. The first letter came the same day I’d went out with Norah, so it couldn’t be her.

  “I don’t know,” Gianna said, her face red.

  Officer Novak placed the letters into plastic bags. “We’ll have these checked for prints and get back to you.” He’d looked at Chris as he spoke, having handed his card to him a moment ago.

  “You’ll get a hit,” I informed him. His eyes shot to mine, one eyebrow raised in curiosity. “I touched the letters and I have a juvenile record.”

  “Really?” he said condescendingly.

  “Yeah, really.” I repeated. “Among other things, I beat up Josh after the attack.”

  His lips tipped up. “From the sound of it, can’t say I completely disapprove.”

  Chris grunted from his seat on the other side of Gianna. My guess, he completely approved as any father would.

  “Can we go now?” Gianna said impatiently.

  Her dad got to his feet, as did Novak, reaching out a hand to shake. I did the same, shaking Novak’s hand firmly. “So, you’ll call Gianna’s dad if you find anything?”

  “It’s unlikely we’ll get a hit other than yours, and Josh Larsen shouldn’t have been able to send them. As you pointed out, the handwriting appears feminine. But with the history,” he trailed off, shrugging. He didn’t need to finish. Given the attack last fall, it wasn’t impossible it was related.

  “Thank you, Officer Novak,” Gianna said politely despite her apparent eagerness to get out of there.

  Her dad stopped us with a hand on her arm as we exited the police station. “Why don’t we eat out tonight?”

  “I’m not really hungry, dad,” she responded. “My stomach feels queasy.”

  “I’ll make sure she eats something,” I assured her dad.

  “Okay.” He let go of her arm. “You’ll be home soon?”

  I answered for her. “In an hour or so.”

  Her dad gave me a hard look. “Don’t let her go anywhere alone.”

  Returning his expression, I said, “I won’t.”

  I unlocked her door for her, holding it open. Before shutting the passenger door, she gazed up at me. “Maybe it’s someone playing a prank?” Her hopeful tone made me sad for her. She didn’t deserve this problem after everything else.

  “Maybe,” I said noncommittally, closing the door gently.

  Neither of us spoke as I drove us to a Mexican restaurant. We both had a lot on our minds. I was already planning on how to spend every moment with her that she wasn’t with her mom or dad. In case the threat was real and not some prank by a vindictive female, Gianna shouldn’t be alone at any time until the police figured out who was sending the letters.

  There was also the Norah complication. Not an issue for me, only an insignificant instant of my life. However, to Gianna it might be a problem. I could understand her hurt, with the misery I’d suffered while thinking she was having sex with Gage.

  Thank fuck I hadn’t nailed Norah.

  We sat across from each other in a booth. The server, a college-age Hispanic guy brought us chips and salsa, taking our drink orders. Gianna leaned back into the padded seat, ignoring the chips and glaring at me
.

  “Have I ever told you how hot you are when you’re angry with me?”

  She didn’t look the least bit amused. “What’s up with you and Norah?”

  I ate a chip with salsa on it, chewing slowly to buy time. I’d have to tread carefully since I tended to be blunt and this was a delicate situation. Going for nonchalance, I said, “We hung out once.”

  If anything, Gianna looked more suspicious. “I know we were technically broken up, but hanging out can mean a lot of different things with you, Caleb.”

  Reaching for her hand, I held it tightly in mine. “I don’t want you hurt.”

  Her head tilted and she got a vulnerable look in her eyes. “Did you do something that would hurt me?”

  Aw hell, that look on her face killed me. “I didn’t have sex with her.”

  “Her roommate said-”

  I cut her off. “Her roommate? That little pudgy chick?”

  She yanked her hand out of mine, putting both of hers under the table so I couldn’t get to them. “So you met her roommate?”

  Realizing my mistake, I said, “Briefly.”

  “Yeah, I heard you were busy getting naked with Norah. Just tell me the truth, Caleb.”

  “You broke up with me,” I reminded her. The server showed up with our sodas and I ordered a couple random items off the menu for us.

  Gianna’s eyes were on the tabletop. “I’m sorry I broke up with you, but I panicked.”

  “I know, but you have to understand that I was going crazy for those two weeks.”

  Her eyes lifted to mine. “Never mind, you don’t have to tell me anything.”

  I wanted her worry about Norah done with, but I didn’t want it biting me in the ass later if the roommate contacted her again or she met Norah at the gallery. “I messed around with her.”

  Tears formed, absolutely gutting me. Getting up, I slid onto her side of the booth. “Fuck, Gianna, please don’t cry.”

  Elbow on the table, one hand covered her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

  “And don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong.”