“And now that you’re old and mature, you have decided to upgrade your game by installing cameras in the girl’s house without her knowledge.” Bingo. See. I am growing as a person. I am evolving. Past me would just camp outside her house; now I am using my resources. Work smart, not hard. I am as efficient as a stalker can be.
“This guy needs his order.” I point to the guy who keeps waving at Leo. The man is starting to get mad, and if Leo doesn’t get him a beer soon, he will probably start a fight. As much as I want to avoid Leo’s questions, I would hate to have a fight in the bar. The last guy who started a fight broke five of our chairs and a television. Considering the cost of Rachel’s security system, this isn't the best time to replace items in the bar.
“This isn’t over, Kai,” Leo says with a defeated tone. “If the police come here asking, I’m going to hand them your head on a plate.”
“Calm down, Salome,” I joke. “No one is going to come asking.”
I doubt she’ll figure out the cameras soon enough to call the cops, and by the time she learns about them, I’m sure she’ll be too attached to call them. Besides, what is she going to tell them? ‘I kidnapped a guy, Officer, and he is now stalking me. Please help.’ They’ll probably think this is part of a kinky role-play and want nothing to do with us. They might even go as far as not paying attention to any distress calls made from her house underthe impression that it's probably a prank. Which is awful if you think about it, but cops are dumb that way sometimes.
Rachel
“IT WAS GREAT TO SEEyou again, Raph. Enjoy your date,” I say as I walk my client to the front desk. Charlotte takes over for me, helping Raphaela check out. While she is handling the payment for the service I just provided, I clean my station. I throw the equipment in the basket for Charlotte to take care of afterward. She is in charge of cleaning the equipment. I put my nail polish bottles back in the correct order and store the tools I didn’t use on clients back in my drawer.
Noah approaches me after he’s done with his share of tidying up over at his station. “Ready to go?” he asks.
I smile, and that smile says it all. I have an idea. One that my friend won’t like. Not one bit. But it’s an idea I’m going through with, even if he doesn’t tag along. “What would you say about getting a drink?”
“Are you thinking of the sports bar across town owned by a biker with blue hair and his handsome friend?” Noah is interested in Leo. I would have guessed as much, even if he hadn’t complimented his looks, and right now it’s working in my favor.
“That’s exactly what I’m thinking.” If the fucking asshole is going to harass me at my work and break into my house, then I am going to get a drink at his bar. “Besides, Kai has my keys. Alex texted me earlier that he gave them to my ‘boyfriend.’”
“Now Alex is texting you? Where did he get your phone number?” Noah has his worried face on.
“His father gave it to him,” I explain as I grab my bag and put on my coat.
Noah is ready to go, already standing next to me with his jacket and backpack on.
“Let’s go.” I head for the door, and my friend follows me.
“Are we taking the van again?” I parked my car in the salon’s parking lot yesterday and didn’t take it back to the house since I had the van. I press the button on my keys, and the car unlocks with its signature sound, the lights flickering.
“No, we’re taking the Jeep,” I say and start to walk toward my car. He follows. I love my Jeep. It’s purple with green flames and a row of cute little ducks on the dash. All of them were given to me by strangers who also loved my car. My favorite duck is a purple Joker duck with a green mohawk. He has a little Harley Quinn duck friend that is equally cute.
“Are we getting food now or after the bar?” I consider the question for a minute. It’s still early, and the bar might have some type of food. Plus, I really want to see the biker, not that I will admit it.
“Let’s get food after, on the way to the house.” Our weekends are always the same: long shifts and book club nights. Every Friday and Saturday, we read, drink, and have breakfast the next day at my house. On Mondays, we attend dance lessons, and Tuesdays are for pottery. Since we are both single, it’s a nice way to spend our time and not feel so alone. We have each other. A friendship based on companionship.
“Got it. Let’s go.” He closes his door, and I toss my jacket on the back seat before I climb into the driver’s seat and start the car. Noah connects his phone to my car, and music starts playing as I drive. He takes his Kindle out of his backpack and starts reading the next chapter of his book for the short ride to thebar. It’s all about routine with him. When one of us is driving, the other one reads or listens to music. It’s predictable but also comfortable to be able to sit in silence with your best friend while you’re doing something you love.
Kai
It’s around 9:30 p.m. and the bar has calmed down; my head is spinning from exhaustion. Leo is trying to convince one of the regulars to stop drinking, and Melanie, the waitress—who I probably owe my firstborn to for helping with the madness of today’s shift—is ready to quit her job and become a sugar baby for a rich man in his eighties. I can see it in her eyes. She has that dead-but-hopeful look you only see in people who do customer service for a living.
The door opens, and all four of us turn to look at who is about to enter as if hell broke loose and hellfire is about to start leaking into the bar. To my surprise, it’s not hellfire, but Rachel and Noah who enter through the door. She has a mischievous smile, and Noah mouths an apologetic “sorry” as they walk in.
Leo looks at me, then at Noah, then at Rachel. He looks back at me, and before I can say anything, he yells, “What the hell, Kai?”
“I did not tell her about the bar,” I rush to explain, but this conversation is too loud, and this place is too quiet. The game has ended, and we didn’t bother to put on music since it’s only us and one of our regulars. Our one remaining customer looks at us, terrified. I’m not sure if he thinks he is too drunk and imagining this or if he is just concerned about his two favorite bartenders yelling at each other. He might be thinking we’ve lost it.
“Hello, Kai.” Rachel takes the seat in front of me, and her friend goes to the end where Leo is standing.
“What are you doing here, Rachel?” I grab a wine glass, set it in front of her, then take the bottle of red wine and fill the glass without asking. It’s the same type of wine as the empty bottles at her house, so I’m assuming it’s what she likes. I might be wrong.
She picks up the glass and inspects the red liquid, then takes a sip. A low hum of approval escapes her as she savors the rich red wine, and I know I was right. She loves it.
“You showed up at my work. I thought you might like it if I did the same.” She speaks softly, without a hint of anger—a contrast to the frantic, high-pitched voice I’ve only heard her use in the previous times we’ve met. She is calm and is drinking her wine as if this is the most normal thing in the universe. Because who wouldn’t stalk their stalker, right?
Leo approaches from behind me with Noah following him on the side of the bar where Rachel is. “How did you find the bar?” he asks Rachel, completely ignoring me. He is mad, and for a good reason. This is getting out of hand.Why is she even here?
