Chapter 6
The hours crawl by, each tick of the clock feeling like an eternity. On the outside I'm calm, composed, a picture of professionalism as I greet customers, answer their questions, and guide them to the perfect piece of jewelry. But inside, I'm screaming. The anxiety buzzing in my chest won't let up, the image of the redhead flashing in my mind over and over.
I don't know why I can't shake the thought of her. She was beautiful yes, achingly so. But there was something about her, something strange. The way she carried herself, the intensity in her gaze. It wasn't just confidence it was control. Purpose. Like every moment she spent in my presence was planned.
I shiver, wiping down the counter to distract myself. The store is nearly empty now, and I breathe a quiet sigh of relief as the last customer exits. Closing time. Finally.
I grab the cleaning supplies and start wiping the glass display cases, the ritual soothing in its predictability. Customers are always reminded not to touch the glass, but of course, not everyone listens. A few smudges here and there, fingerprints faintly visible under the overhead lights.
As I clean, my thoughts drift back to her again. The way her fingers brushed against mine when she picked up the necklace. The faint smile on her lips, so small yet so deliberate. She's been gone for hours, and yet, she feels closer than she should.
I force myself to focus, finishing the task quickly. The cases gleam under the lights, spotless and perfect. I step back, satisfied, and put away the supplies. The quiet of the store settles over me like a blanket, and for the first time all day, I feel a flicker of relief.
Sliding into my coat, I grab my bag and head toward the door. I'm ready to go home, well as ready as I can be, considering how uneasy I feel about my apartment right now.
But just as I reach for the door handle, I'm ambushed by my Colleagues.
"Oh no you don't!"
I blink in surprise as Brielle's arm snakes around my shoulders, her perfume overwhelming as she pulls me close. On my other side, Kaia throws an arm around my waist, grinning at me like a mischievous child.
"Don't even think about running off" Kaia says, wagging a finger at me. "We're going out for drinks tonight. You're coming."
My stomach sinks. I can feel the excuses bubbling up in my throat, but the words won't come out. Saying no has always been difficult for me, especially with these two.
"I don't know..." I mumble, my voice weak. "I'm really tired-"
"Oh, come on" Brielle interrupts, her tone dripping with exaggerated exasperation. "You've been working all day. You deserve a drink. Besides, you don't want to go home and be all by yourself, do you?"
Her words hit a little too close to home. I don't want to go home. Not tonight. Not with the thought of someone sneaking back into my apartment.
But the idea of going out isn't much better. When I'm drunk, I'm vulnerable. Helpless. And if the stalker or whoever opened that window shows up...
I bite my lip, torn between two equally unappealing options.
"Please, just this once?" Kaia pleads, giving me her best puppy-dog eyes. "It'll be fun, I promise."
I glance between them, my heart sinking further. Kaia is a wild card at the best of times, and alcohol only amplifies her chaos. She always swears she'll behave, but the regret filled apologies the next day tell a different story.
And then there's Brielle. She's a force of nature, charming and dangerous in equal measure. I've seen her flirt her way into and out of trouble more times than I can count. She's magnetic, the kind of person who draws everyone in without even trying. But her unpredictability makes every night out with her an adventure, for better or worse.
I know I should say no. But I also know that going home isn't an option not when the memory of last night still lingers in the back of my mind.
"Fine" I sigh, my shoulders slumping in defeat. "I'll go."
Brielle lets out a triumphant cheer, and Kaia squeezes me tighter. "That's our girl! You won't regret it, I promise."
I nod weakly, though doubt churns in my stomach. I don't feel safe anywhere right now not at home, not at a bar. But at least with them, I won't be alone.
As we step out into the crisp night air, I can't help but glance over my shoulder. The feeling of being watched hasn't left me, and my skin prickles with unease. Somewhere, out there in the shadows, someone could be watching.
And if they are, I've just made their job a whole lot easier.