by Winters, KB
I backed up a step and sank down, onto the edge of the bed. My brain was creating and rejecting new ideas and theories faster than I could process everything and I felt dizzy.
What the fuck just happened?
I let myself reel for a few more minutes, and then forced myself up off the bed and back into the bathroom. I finished drying off and then went back to the bedroom and put on the street clothes that I had worn to the club yesterday— a pair of dark-wash jeans, a red tank top, my leather jacket, and my riding boots. I had no idea where he had gotten them. When I had changed to go onstage, I left them in my locker and thinking back, I couldn’t remember them being in the car with us yesterday. And yet, they were right here in front of me. Cleaned and folded.
I shook my head and finished getting dressed.
Back in my boots and jacket, I felt a little more like myself and my previous confusion and…if I was honest…hurt…was quickly replaced with anger and irritation.
All I knew was that I was getting the fuck out of his house and I was never coming back.
I jogged down the stairs and nearly plowed into someone on my way to the front of the house.
“Can I help you?” a man in a suit asked as I stepped back.
“Who are you?” I demanded.
“My name is Eric. I’m Mr. Brighton’s assistant.”
I stared at the man. He was tall and stocky and for a moment, I wondered if he was like Cooper’s bodyguard or security guy. Maybe he hadn’t thought I would leave willingly. I looked around, past the man standing in my path. It was a beautiful house, but it wasn’t not like I was going to move in and force him to have me physically removed from the property.
I rolled my eyes. “I’m just trying to get home. Cooper said there would be a car.”
“Aha,” Eric said. “Well, it’s not here yet. Would you like to wait outside on the porch? The maid is scheduled to be here any minute and she doesn’t like cleaning around people.”
He had phrased it like a question, but the insinuation was clear. I was being, ever-so-politely, kicked out.
I turned on the heel of my boot and stormed down the hall, not bothering to look back at the snooty manservant. Out of the expansive front porch, I stared off into the distance at the view, absorbing the tranquil setting that raged against every pent-up emotion inside my chest. I clenched and unclenched my fists, furious with Cooper for treating me like trash, on top of everything he had already done.
“Ugh!” I fumed to myself and flopped onto the cushioned bench that sat facing the long driveway. “What a jackass, douche-bag, mother fucker!”
I crossed my arms around my chest and waited. Hating the fact that I was too damn far away to just stomp off and get myself home. I hated that I had to wait for him to send someone to fetch me.
My frustration bubbled up again and I launched off the bench and started pacing the length of the porch. My whole body felt twitchy and agitated. I was about to storm off down the driveway when a black car pulled up and stopped in front of the house. A man got out and peered up at me. “Miss Rand?”
I nodded to confirm my identity and started down the stone steps that met the driveway at the bottom. The driver opened the back door for me and I climbed into the car, forcing myself to relax against the seat. I put my head back and stared at the roof of the car.
“Stupid, stupid girl,” I whispered to myself, as tears slide from the corners of my eyes and trailed down my cheeks.
“Where would you like to go?” the driver asked once he was back behind the wheel.
I gave him my address and for the rest of the ride, he didn’t say another word.
The night before, the drive had flown by. Cooper and I were so locked in our arguing that I didn’t pay attention to just how far away we were from the city. On the way back, all alone, it seemed to drag on endlessly. My head was leaned up against the window as the sights from the freeway flashed by.
I did my best to keep my mind blank, but it kept circling back to Cooper, flashes of our hot, sweaty night together mixed with memories of his stony face this morning. Both versions of Cooper swirled together in my mind, making things more confusing and tying my emotions into tighter knots.
Nearly two hours later, we arrived in front of my apartment. I thanked the driver as he let me out and raced upstairs without another glance back. I burst through the front door and was greeted by Sam. At the sight of his little furry face, I burst into tears again. I picked him up, buried my face against him and clung to him as my body trembled with each new wave of tears. I carried him with me into the bedroom and didn’t even bother undressing before collapsing onto my bed.
Overwhelming exhaustion took over my body and before my tears had even dried, I was unable to keep my eyes open.
When I woke up, the sky beyond my windows was still light but a glance at the clock told me it was nearly six o’clock and dusk would be falling soon. I had slept all day without waking. Apparently, the previous night with Cooper had more than emotionally done me in. As I stretched, my anxiety crept in and I started wondering what to do next.
My landlord would be sniffing around for rent any day, and I had nothing to give to him. I had already received a letter that if things didn’t get back on track, I would be evicted. My one dance at the strip club had stacked up nicely, and might be enough to get the landlord off my case for a week or two, but now that Cooper had blackballed me from ever dancing there again, I would have to find a new source of income.
My blood pressure rose as I thought of Cooper and how controlling and meddling he was. Last night, after we had made love, I had lain in his arms and stupidly thought to myself that the reason he had interrupted my performance at the club was because he wanted to keep me and my body all to himself. Being discarded the next morning like a fucking call girl had shot that theory to hell, and I was back to wondering what the hell he was up to.
As I replayed the events, searching my brain for any clue, I had a horrifying epiphany.
My money…
I had no idea where it was.
I scrambled out of bed and frantically patted myself down, thinking maybe Cooper had stashed it in a pocket for me. It wasn’t like he needed it. But all my pockets were empty.
“Shit! Shit, shit, shit,” I yelled as I double-checked every pocket on my pants and jacket.
Nothing.
It was gone.
All of it.
Tears welled up in my eyes, but I sucked in a deep breath and refused to let myself cry again. Cooper and his antics didn’t deserve even one more tear.
I stripped out of the clothes and changed into something fresh that wasn’t completely coated in Cooper’s scent and then left the apartment, formulating a plan as I went.
I was locking the door behind me when I felt someone watching me. I spun around and jumped back at the sight of my landlord. “Oh, hi, umm, listen…” I started.
He stared at me expectantly.
“I got the letter. I understand. I’m on the way now, actually, to get you some money.”
He crinkled his brow. “What are you talking about?” he asked.
“For rent? Is it too late?” I cringed, waiting for his reply.
“Allison, your rent has been paid up for the next year. I got a call from the bank this morning about a wire into my account. Your rent has been paid up for the next twelve months.”
“What?” I gasped, my mind reeling at his words. “There must have been a mistake. I don’t know anyone that has that kind of money…” My voice trailed away as the realization hit me.
Yes, I do. I know one person who probably has that kind of money hidden in his couch cushions.
“Shit.”
“Is there a problem? I can call the bank.”
I held up a hand to him. “No, no, it’s all right. Thank you for the information.”
He smiled at me and I walked the other direction. My mind had been made up. I knew what I needed to do.
I was forced to take the
bus across town to get back to Marco’s and by the time I arrived, it was dark outside and a line of men were wrapped around the dilapidated building. I didn’t want to go past them, worried that some of them had seen my dance the night before, but I needed my money. I put on my best “fuck off” face and strode across the street and pushed to the front of the line, where the security guy let me through.
“Allie Cat! What the hell are you doing back again?” Marco greeted me as soon as I stepped into the door.
“Marco, where’s my money?”
His face was blank, as if he had no idea what I was talking about. “Allie Cat, I don’t mean to pry or nothin’, but your gentleman last night made it pretty apparent that you’re not supposed to come here anymore.”
“I don’t care what he told you. And by the way, he is not my gentleman. Actually, not a gentleman at all, but that’s beside the point for now.”
“Allie Cat, I don’t have your money,” Marco said. “That guy grabbed all your stuff before you got off stage.”
“I know, but the money was on me and I don’t remember what happened to it.”
I considered him, trying to decide if he was telling me the truth. He stared back at me, and I realized he wasn’t lying. He didn’t have it.
Then where was it?
Searching my memory, I remembered that I got off stage, I gathered the money in my hands, and then I saw Cooper. Damn. Everything else kind of went blank after seeing him. The horror, shame, and anger took over my other senses. Including my memory, apparently.
“All right.” For a moment, I thought about asking him if I could come back that night and dance, but I knew it would be too risky. Cooper would probably come haul me out again if I even tried, and I wasn’t willing to go through that humiliation again, being carried over his shoulder like a child pitching a fit in a supermarket.
I took one more look around and then left.
If the cash wasn’t at the club, then there was only one place it could be.
I went around the back of the club and released a huge sigh of relief at the sight of Cherry Bomb. The last time she had been left somewhere overnight, things had gone very badly. My heart sank as I realized that the duct tape-covered seat likely wasn’t going to get fixed for some time.
My rent was paid up, but what about all of my other bills and expenses? Either Cooper hadn’t thought of that, which seemed unlikely, or, he still wanted me to need him to some degree.
I shook back my hair and lowered my helmet onto my head.
All of my musings wiped away from my mind as I revved the engine and screeched out of the tiny alley behind the building. The freedom washed over me as I sped down the street and snaked through the city. This was why I Loved Cherry Bomb. Freedom. Independence. I rode back to my apartment, my drowsiness threatening to overtake me again. I knew it wouldn’t be smart to make such a long trip, but before I closed my eyes, I resolved to myself that first thing the morning, I’d have to go to the one place I had absolutely no interest in going…Cooper’s house.
Chapter Ten
I started my trip a little after seven the next morning and did my best to enjoy the long ride down the freeway but my mind kept going back to Cooper, remembering his eyes as he explored my naked body, lying in the soft folds of his shirt. His soft lips and how they ravished over every inch of my skin. His masculine hands as they teased and caressed me. But, then, the images shifted and I saw the coldness in his eyes when he told me he was leaving, the tight line to his lips that made them no longer seem like they could ever belong the same man who had pleasured me endlessly the night before, and the hands that no longer seemed interested in touching my body.
The conflicting version of Cooper was battling in my head and it took a lot of effort to remain focused on my driving.
Finally, over an hour later, I arrived at the huge gate that blocked the long driveway that led to Cooper’s house.
“Shit,” I whispered to myself. I had forgotten about the gate. I flipped up the visor on my helmet and leaned over to inspect it closer. There was a speaker button, and I pushed it quickly, not giving myself time to freak out over who would answer.
“How may I help you?”
It wasn’t Cooper’s voice that echoed from the tiny box.
“Um, yes, my name is Allie—Allison Rand. I was here yesterday and left some things behind.”
“I’m sorry, but Mr. Brighton is not here at the moment. You’ll have to come back another time.”
I scowled at the voice. “I don’t need to see Mr. Brighton. I need my stuff. That’s it, and then I’ll go.”
There was a pause and I turned my attention back to the gate, waiting for it to start opening.
“I’m sorry, I cannot let you in. You will have to come back.”
“What the fuck? I just told you, I don’t need to see Cooper. I just want my stuff. Can you call him? I’m sure he won’t mind.”
Silence.
“Hello?” I punched the speaker button again. “Hello? Can you hear me?”
I screamed to release my frustration. My brain scrambled to find a new plan. I had just ridden an hour to get here. There was no way I was going to leave without my money. I took my helmet off and balanced it between my legs as I grabbed my phone out of my pocket.
Thankfully, my cell phone bill had been paid, so I still had service.
For now, I reminded myself.
I shook the thought away and dialed Cooper’s number—thankful that I hadn’t deleted it after the last asshole thing he had done.
The phone rang and rang, and eventually went to his voicemail. I hung up and immediately dialed again.
I got the voicemail message again. “Cooper, it’s Allie. Please call your idiot assistant and tell him to let me into your house. I need my money from the club the other night.”
I hung up and hoped my bitchy demand would get me somewhere, and fast.
It was so quiet I could hear my own heart beating. I got tired of waiting and after a few minutes, I leaned over and pushed the button again.
“Ma’am, as previously stated, I cannot let you into Mr. Brighton’s home. I am very sorry.”
“I just called him and left a message. Can you call him, please? This is very, very important.”
“I will try. One moment.”
I sat back, my fingers tapping the top of my helmet that sat in between my legs.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. There was no answer. I will let him know you were here. Perhaps he can mail you the items. Let me take down your address.”
“He knows where I live,” I shouted back. I slammed my helmet back over my head, latched it tight, ripped around in a circle and flew down the driveway. I refused to be treated like some other whore he had lured back to his place and simply shipped back any personal effects in a UPS box so he didn’t have to actually see her again.
Disgusting.
I made record time back to the city and cruised around a little, still trying to burn off my rage. I went by the bakery shop I had found Cooper at the last time he stopped answering my calls, but he wasn’t there. I didn’t have my laptop, so I couldn’t use the tracking program to locate his GPS signal.
Without planning it, I ended up retracing the route Cooper had taken me on when we left the pastry shop and before I knew it, I was staring up at the enormous tower, home of Brighton Enterprises. As I parked along the street, every fiber in my body rebelled against the idea of going inside, back to his office.
Logically, I knew that he wasn’t trying to steal the money from me. Truthfully, I should feel a little guilty even squabbling with him over a measly five hundred bucks, when he had just donated thousands to my own personal charity fund. But that wasn’t the point. Was it?
No, it wasn’t, I decided. I wanted to see him, face to face, and demand an explanation for his most recent surge of assholery. I wanted to make him feel as awkward and uncomfortable and stupid as I had when he had burst into my place of employment and had caused a scene. D
eep down, I knew that Cooper wasn’t the type to feel awkward or embarrassed, but I was going to do my damnedest.
I abandoned Cherry Bomb and stalked towards his building.
I rode up the elevator and found his office. His assistant was sitting at her desk, typing on her computer, and didn’t even look up when I approached. I cleared my throat and she finally raised her head.
“Can I help you?”
“I need to see Cooper.”
She looked me up and down, a look of disapproval all over her bitchy face. “Mr. Brighton,” she corrected me, “is not in. Would you like to leave him a message?”
Before I could answer, she plopped a pack of sticky notes and a pen in front of me and then went back to typing.
It took a whole lot of restraint to keep my hand from writing “fuck you” on the top sticky. Instead, I wrote, “Call Allison,” and flipped it back to her, knowing the odds of him ever seeing the note were very slim.
“Thank you,” I said, making my voice as sweet as possible.
“I’ll see that Mr. Brighton gets this.”
I nodded and started to walk away, when she called after me. “And just a tip. If you’re trying to attract his attention, you should know he prefers a more…feminine look.”
I turned back, the muscles in my shoulder ready to cock back a fist and let her have it.
“Bye bye.” She waved, giving me a sickly sweet smile.
I couldn’t afford a public brawl on top of all my other problems, so I let my wrist relax and drop to my side as I turned and left the office. I kept my head high as I rode the elevator down and went back out to ride home. I walked down the street towards Cherry Bomb, and checked the windows of the surrounding businesses, hoping to see a glimpse of Cooper, wanting to bull rush him in some hoity-toity coffee shop and make a huge scene and embarrass him in front of “his people.” I reached my parking space without seeing him, so I climbed back on my bike, and ripped out of the city and back to my apartment to crash.
Chapter Eleven
Once home, I changed into some comfortable clothes, made a snack, and went to my laptop to see if I could track Cooper down. After spending nearly the whole day chasing his ghost around town, it was time to stop chasing my tail and go back to something a more accurate. Something I knew. I scarfed down my cup of ramen noodles as the computer powered up. I set the cup down and flexed my fingers in anticipation of the hunt.