But some distance from the unpleasant things would be nice.
I looked at the changing of the calendar year as sort of like shedding of old skin and welcoming new.
Ooh, maybe I should get a new wardrobe. And a haircut. Who cared if Missy got the lob first? I didn’t have to let her dictate what I did and didn’t do.
I did get a big discount in here and my father did keep asking me what I wanted for Christmas…
I was going to pay extra close attention to the catalogues when we got them out so I could pick some totally cute things I knew I would want to buy.
I changed before coming in to work this afternoon. I put on the long-sleeved shirt with the polka dot sleeves and back I got last week. I paired it up with a pair of destructed jeans and a pair of high-heeled cream boots.
It was freezing out; the air kinda smelled like snow. You know that fresh scent that permeated the air whenever it got super cold and the clouds hung low. It was dark; it got dark by like five thirty now. Every once in a while as we worked, I’d look out the big front window, expecting to see the white flakes falling against the black backdrop of night.
So far, it still wasn’t snowing.
I wondered if Trent and Drew finally gave up on working on their engines in the driveway. When I left, they had spotlights out like even the lowering sun wasn’t going to deter them. Drew seemed more relaxed now that it was settled he was going to stay. He’d been so tense before; it made me regret I hadn’t talked to him sooner about the pressure he felt from Dad.
Maybe I’d talk to him when I went home for Christmas. Maybe if I did, he’d give Drew a break. Or maybe I’d bring B home with me. That would give Dad plenty to focus on and he wouldn’t worry so much about what Drew was doing.
It was a devious little plan.
I liked it.
I smiled just thinking about Braeden. He was remarkable and so incredibly selfless. Sometimes when I looked at him, it amazed me that he was mine. I promised myself to find ways to show him just how much I loved him in every way I could. He deserved it.
After several hours of work, we had the floor of the boutique completely inventoried and the jewelry stock in the display drawers accounted for as well. One of the girls clocked out. She’d been there since noon and it was her time to go.
Monica was filling out paperwork, and I started marking pages in catalogues of stuff I thought would sell well with the college crowd. Not everything I marked would be ordered, as I didn’t have final say. That was Monica’s job, but I hoped she chose some of the things I chose. I felt like I had a pretty good eye.
Actually, these past few months working here taught me a lot about myself. About my passion and what I loved. I always knew I loved shopping, clothes, and makeup, but I never really thought about turning my hobby into a career until I started styling Rimmel.
I absolutely loved picking outfits, mixing and matching pieces, and helping people look awesome but still like themselves. I liked being in this boutique and surrounded by the stuff I enjoyed. When girls came in to shop, I adored talking trends with them and hearing what they thought about new styles.
It was something I could totally see myself doing for a long time.
Maybe I would open a boutique of my own. Or maybe I’d just become a personal stylist.
Hell, I could do both.
Find your style with Ivy, I mused.
I liked it. A new year. A new dream? Perhaps a new major?
I might take some time to think about it a little more, but I knew in my heart I was ready to dive in. I could take a few business and marketing classes, maybe a few design courses. If I added them to the ones I’d already completed, I could probably graduate next year with a Liberal Arts degree.
And then go into fashion.
Maybe I would start up a fashion channel on YouTube and talk style and show people how to dress their best.
Yes. Yes. Yes.
I could totally do that. And I would be happy.
Excited, I squealed beneath my breath and went into Monica’s office in the back to ask her what she thought. I couldn’t wait to talk to Braeden and Rimmel. I was already getting ideas and plans in my head.
“I was just coming to see you,” Monica said when I stepped in.
“Yeah?”
“I just got a call. My son is sick and I need to go pick him up at the sitter’s. We’re gonna have to finish up for the night. We can go through orders this week sometime.”
“Oh no! I hope the little guy feels better.”
She grimaced. She was a beautiful woman, in her late twenties with long red hair. “It’s a stomach bug. If I call in sick tomorrow, you’ll know I caught it.”
“Well, if you need me to pick up extra shifts, you have my schedule,” I offered.
“Thanks.” She picked up her purse and already had her keys in hand. “Would you mind locking up on your way out? I need to go. He was crying when the sitter called.”
“Of course!”
She grabbed my hand on the way past. “I really appreciate this, Ivy. I’m sorry to make you do this on your first day back from being sick.”
“It’s no trouble,” I said and walked her to the front door, unlocked it, and let her out, giving her a wave. I locked the door back up and went toward the counter.
I’d just stack up these catalogues and turn off all the lights. Then I’d get out of here. Hopefully, Braeden would be home when I got there and I could surprise him with getting off early. I was looking forward to another night spent in his arms.
I went into the back and shut off the light in Monica’s office, pulling the door around as I went. The time clock was on the far wall next to a small fridge and coffee pot no one ever used. I located my timecard and pulled it out, slipping it into the machine and listening to it mechanically stamp down my quitting time.
As I was placing it back where it belonged, the overhead light flickered.
I paused and glanced up. The light came back on just as before. I finished putting the card away and then went to the rack near the backdoor to grab my purse and coat.
The lights flickered again.
And again.
The feeling I wasn’t alone caused a cold sweat to break out over my forehead. I shuddered and took a deep breath.
Keep it together, Ivy. Now’s not the time for a panic attack. It’s just electricity. Everything’s fine.
The lights stopped flickering and the knot in my stomach unclenched. Feeling proud I managed to keep an anxiety attack away, I started out front again, my heels clicking on the tile.
Before I made it, the lights gave one final flicker and everything in the boutique went completely dark.
So much for keeping it together.
My heart started to gallop in my chest and my breath came in short gasps. The counter was only a few steps away, so I headed in that direction, keeping my footing cautious because it was so dark.
When I got out into what I knew was the main room, with the counter right in front of me, I felt around the top, searching for my phone. I could light up the flashlight app to see enough to get the hell out of here.
I couldn’t find my phone.
My hand started searching, frantic, my movements a lot more erratic.
Panic was coming fast now.
My phone had been right here just a minute ago. It was lying right beside me as I went through the magazines, in case Braeden called.
Wait a minute.
It was pitch black in here. So dark I couldn’t even see my hand in front of my face. Why? There was a streetlight just outside, and it would have cast enough light to at least make it possible to see.
I looked up sharply in the direction of the window.
The streetlight was out too.
In fact, everything outside was just as dark as it was in here.
“Where is it?” I worried, returning to the search for my phone.
“Looking for this?”
The deep voice cut through the dark
and was so incredibly close I screamed and jumped back.
“Who’s there?” I asked, even though I was terribly afraid to find out.
“I’ll give you three guesses,” the man intoned.
I didn’t need three guesses. I recognized his voice.
Deep down… Your body will remember…
His haunting words knocked around the inside of my brain, erasing all logical thought and replacing it with mind-numbing terror.
Then in the dark, a small light lit up just in front of me. It was my phone. The screen saver was of a picture of B and me after one of his football games. He was in uniform, dirty and sweaty, his handsome face grinning into the camera, while I was at his side, looking put together as always with a braid in my hair and an equally happy smile on my face.
Our lit-up, smiling faces provided illumination for another one tonight.
The glow from the phone screen cast an ominous, shady glow upward, much like a flashlight did on a night out in the woods.
I screamed.
Zach’s eerily illuminated face broke out into a smile.
It was evil, sadistic even.
“Ivy,” he spoke. Just hearing my name cross his lips made my skin crawl. “We meet again.”
Chapter Fifty-Two
Braeden
I invited myself in.
If I waited for her to do it, I’d likely grow old and die before she got around to it.
I brushed right by her and walked farther into the room. She sighed like my visit was such a great imposition, and I chuckled.
“Not happy to see me.”
“Not bloody likely.”
“Nice room ya got here,” I said, glancing around at the basic dorm. It was basically the same shit she had last year, just in a different space. It made me kinda sick how familiar I was with her shit. Especially the gray-and-white bedding with yellow accents.
I seriously regretted ever getting involved with her.
“I feel kinda bad for your roommate though. Poor girl doesn’t even know she sleeps next to Satan.”
“If you came to insult me, you can just leave.”
“I’ll leave when I get good and fucking ready,” I said, the conversational tone in my voice gone.
She sucked in a breath at my harsh words and just stood there like I made her nervous. Good. I trusted myself more now than I ever did before.
I would never hurt her physically. Even if I got the urge to ring her neck, I wouldn’t. I knew now I wasn’t built that way.
But I didn’t mind that she wasn’t sure.
“Why are you here?”
“Thought you might want to know your little stunt worked. Ivy remembered. She spent the last four days crying. But unlike what you hoped, she bounced back. My girl is a lot stronger than you think she is. And so is our relationship.”
As I spoke, I gauged her reaction. First her eyes widened, then they turned sad, and now they just burned with anger.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Cut the shit, Missy. I know it was you.”
“What was me?”
“Why’d you do it, huh?” I demanded. “I thought you didn’t want her to remember. I thought you wanted to keep your grimy little part in what happened to her a secret.”
“I was not responsible for Zach raping her,” she growled.
Ah, did I finally make a dent in her armor? Was me suggesting she was even at all associated with the vile crime committed against Ivy too much for her conscience?
“Maybe not.” I allowed. “But you used it against her, which is just as bad.”
“I’m sorry for that.” Her shoulders slumped.
I almost believed she meant it. “Then why? Why couldn’t you just leave well enough alone? Why did you have to come into our house and torture her? Was it one last thing you could do to rip her world apart?”
“For the last time,” Missy said, “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
I ticked off reasons I knew she was lying on my fingers as I spoke. “One, you know where we live. Two, you could have sweet-talked Drew into some kind of access to the house. Three, you had motive. Four, you were in and out of her dorm last semester, which gave you the perfect opportunity to take the panties. Five—”
“Panties?” She interrupted me. Her nose wrinkled and she genuinely looked confused. “Let’s just say for argument’s sake I really didn’t do it. What the hell are you talking about?”
A little note of something climbed up the back of my neck. “Her red panties. The ones with a four-leaf clover on them.”
“Her lucky panties?”
I nodded. “She was wearing them that night. She lost them. They turned up in our room, on our bed, the other day. Just like that. Brought everything back. Now she has to live with those images in her head. Forever.”
Missy turned thoughtful, like she really was just hearing about this for the first time.
“Cut the shit, Missy,” I snapped. “I know it was you. You left a note.”
“What did it say?” she asked, spinning around to look at me.
Why was she playing this game?
What if she really didn’t do it?
“It said ‘Don’t tell.’”
“Why would I do that?”
I gave her a look.
Missy shook her head. “Maybe you should ask yourself who else you pissed off. Who else might want to hurt Ivy?” she snapped and walked to the door like she was going to kick me out.
“No one else knew what happened to her. No one.”
“Except Zach,” she whispered.
“He’s locked up, remember? He’s not due to get out ‘til next summer.”
“You need to leave,” she said.
Why the hell was she acting so weird, all cagey and shit?
“Not until you admit what you did and tell me why.”
“I didn’t do it!” she yelled. She pressed her lips together and a weird look came across her face.
“What?” I said. “What is it?”
“Nothing.”
“Missy,” I growled.
She grabbed the door handle and flung the door open. “Get out right now or I’m gonna start screaming.”
I stalked to the door, pissed off. When I got there, I noticed something hanging on the front of the door. It wasn’t there when I first got here.
It was a black dress. Looked like there was a note pinned to the front.
I glanced at Missy. Her face had gone white.
“I agree. Black isn’t your color.” I moved out into the hallway. I heard the wrinkling of paper behind me as I started to walk away.
Her low gasp was audible. “Braeden?” she said, her voice low and scared.
“What?” I snapped. God, she was irritating.
“I’ve made a horrible mistake.”
The look on her face. The sound of her voice. It put me on red alert. I went back to her side and ripped the note out of her hand.
Wear this tomorrow night.
When we celebrate the removal of our mutual problem.
—Z
The note folded in my hand when it tightened into a fist.
Ivy told me she’d seen him.
I told her it was just a dream.
What if it wasn’t?
What if he was somehow here? What if he was lurking around waiting for the perfect moment to shut her up?
“What the fuck did you do?” I roared.
Missy started to cry. I didn’t have time for tears. I grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back into the room, leaving the dress on the door.
“Tell me right now, Missy, or so help me God…”
A sob ripped from her throat.
She told me about going to see Zach. About their talk. About how she asked him for his help.
The entire time she talked, black spots literally swam before my eyes. My muscles just kept growing tighter and tighter, and my stomach grew heavy with ice.
“Bu
t he’s still there, right?”
She just looked at me.
“Right!” I yelled.
“They let him come home for the holidays. So he could be with his dad.”
“You fucking went there, got him all riled up, and then those bastards turned him loose?” I exclaimed. I was yelling so loud I knew the people in the rooms beside could hear me. Hell, the entire hall probably heard.
“I was upset and angry. I didn’t want anyone to find out. I didn’t want to get kicked out of school,” she wailed. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“Sorry!” I screamed. “You fucking visited a rapist, one that is fucking sick in the head, and you basically put him on her trail!”
“I think he might be obsessed with me,” she said weakly.
I laughed. And then I laughed some more. “Wakeup call, bitch. Not everything is about you.”
She shook her head. “That’s not what I’m saying!”
I was going crazy. My muscles quaked while I paced the tiny room like a caged lion.
“Listen to me!” she pleaded.
“Say it fast,” I growled.
“When I went there, he seemed lonely. I grabbed his hand. He acted like he hadn’t been touched in years.”
Oh my God. She is insane. She’s no better than him.
“A couple weeks ago, I started getting anonymous gifts. A book of classic plays I love, original sheet music from a New York musical. Flowers, a single rose…”
“So?”
“I thought at first I had a secret admirer. Maybe a guy from my acting classes. But then the dress.” She pointed to the door. “That dress came from the boutique. The one where Ivy works. She refused to sell it to me the other day.”
“Get to the point, Missy,” I snapped, still pacing.
“You saw the note. It’s from Z. Zach. He’s been watching me. He’s been sending me gifts. He must have seen me at the boutique with her. He must have seen her refuse to sell me that dress.”
“She would have told me if he came in there to buy a damn dress!”
“Maybe he stole it,” she whispered. “Maybe he doesn’t want anyone to know he’s around.”
“Except you.” I pointed out.
“He said he was going to help me. He didn’t want anyone to find out either, because then his padded cell would become a permanent home. He said he was going to help us both by making sure Ivy or you never told anyone.”
#Poser Page 30