“Why don’t you give them to her yourself?” Surely this witch saw Holly every day. Why the fuck was she bringing this crap out for me.
Just the sight of Holly’s phone caused my gut to clench.
The woman laughed. She even sounded evil.
“That little bitch is probably working at some fast food joint about now.” She gestured with the items again. “You take ’em or I’ll toss ’em.”
As soon as I held the items in my hand, my heart started racing. Hair stood up on the back of my neck.
I swallowed around the sudden lump in my throat and held back all the insults I wanted to fling at this bitch. It wouldn’t be worth it.
The doors opened and I hurried to my apartment, the talk show host forgotten.
Once in my apartment I opened a bottle of water and dropped onto my couch. I opened the book.
A journal. The initial entry was dated July 16th of this year. Same handwriting as the note she’d left.
And then I began reading.
This morning marks four months. Four months since I failed my best friend. I want to beg you why. Scream at you for not waiting for me to get home. But you tried to tell me. I just didn’t listen. I miss you so much Bernie. How could you? I’m so sorry.
I flipped further along.
September sixth. I deserve this. I deserve every insult and snide comment Star throws at me. It’s an odd sort of penance. I let her harsh words rain down around me hoping to feel better. I wish I could move forward. I wish I could start living again. Someone else is writing my life and I can’t seem to get the pen back.
October twenty second. A guy kissed me tonight. Hunter. And I didn’t feel guilty. I laughed a lot. I did stupid, stupid stuff. I’m probably gonna get fired and I don’t even care. I think my time with Star is over. Like this kiss, this guy, made me feel like I didn’t deserve to be treated that way. I mean, he’s hot. He’s the hottest guy I’ve ever met. And he likes me! He wants to take me out. Even if he doesn’t call, I am so glad we met. He’ll never know what he did for me.
She poured her heart out into this damn book. I flipped on the lamp beside me and continued reading.
She talked about our date. Too much about our night together. A few paragraphs made me hot. But mostly, she talked about how she felt about it all. How she felt about me.
I turned the next page with shaking hands.
She hadn’t lied. She’d fucking thought she lost her phone and instead it had most likely been stolen. The ice I’d tried to build around my heart was melting. Melting fast.
What had I done. I’d already convicted her for something she hadn’t done once. She’d told me she wasn’t in a place where she could play games. She’d told me to come to her. She’d promised she’d never lie.
I roughed my hand through my hair. God, would she even talk to me? I glanced at her phone and realized the irony. I couldn’t even call her. I needed a plan. But what?
I opened my phone out of habit and an email caught my eye.
This could work. This just might work.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Holly
Although I wantedto lock myself away again, I couldn’t. I had two days to mourn the loss of Hunter DeLuca and then I had to get up, get dressed, and start a new job.
I dragged myself out of bed that day and made myself presentable. I didn’t want to disappoint my new manager. Especially when she’d hired me for my “moxie.”
I’d also received a call from the apartment I’d put a deposit on. It would be available sooner, this weekend in fact. Did I want it early?
Hell yes.
So that meant I needed income. And I needed it fast.
A few people recognized me from Star’s stupid story. I somehow managed to laugh it off and come off as mysterious. What a joke.
