Page 57 of Tension

I peeked inside the bag, and my heart actually skipped.

Monica.

The blonde 40-inch, deep-wave, 360 lace-front, no-glue wig I had been stalking online for months.

A thousand dollars' worth of hair.

Underneath it, a bag of my favorite cookies and cream Hershey kisses.

“Vel… this is expensive.” My voice was small, attitude gone.

“You don’t like it?” he asked.

I pulled the visor down and unwrapped the wig like it was glass.

“I love it,” I breathed, placing it on my head.

She was gorgeous. Barely needed a wash. Just a little style and she was perfect.

“Okay then,” he said, chuckling as I fluffed the curls in the mirror and popped a kiss into my mouth.

“Honey?” he said softly, getting my attention.

“Call me for everything.”

And I would.

VEL

The room smelled like her, layered with the faint trace of my cologne still hanging in the air from last night.

Chris was out cold, tangled in my sheets. One bare leg kicked out, the other curled under her. Her breathing was slow and steady; her lips were parted seductively. The wig was on the lamp beside her.

She said, "This’ll do until I get her home."

I may not let her go home.

The sex had been… unreal lately. The kind that made you forget there was anything outside these four walls. But once her eyes fluttered shut, the world started creeping back in. The image of her car. The feeling of someone following her. The way she had been looking over her shoulder.

I tried to let her handle it, but Brian had to go.

I leaned over and gently brushed a strand of hair off her cheek. She stirred, sighed, but didn’t wake.

How had this girl gotten me wrapped around her finger like this?

I couldn’t say when it had started, but I knew I didn't want it to end.

That’s why I needed to protect her.

I kissed her temple lightly, before I pulled on my sweats and hoodie, and slid out the door.

As I had started to learn Saint Cloud I knew there were certain parts where people like Brian hung out.

I found him right where I had figured: posted on the block, hoodie up, half-hidden in the shadows, still trying to pass off dime bags like it was 2010.

I killed the engine, stepped out, and didn’t say a word before my fist connected with his jaw.

The crack echoed in the night. He stumbled back, grabbing his face, eyes wide. The few people out minded their business.