so I could go back to sleep.
But I heard soft noises in the living room.
For a few moments, I tried to convince myself that the sounds were coming from his neighbor’s apartment—but when I opened my eyes, the dim light coming through the doorway told me otherwise. “Justin. Justin.” I kept my voice as low as possible, but I sat up in case I needed to shake his shoulders or something else to wake him up.
“What?”
“I think someone’s here.”
“What?”
“Listen.”
We both sat up and I held my breath. Not only did we hear another sound, but the light moved around again, so he got out of bed, putting on a pair of jeans beside the bed before moving over to the open bedroom door without making a sound. After he left the room, I got out of bed as well and made it to the living room just as he was flipping on the light switch.
“Caught ya. What the fuck are you doin’?”
As I came into the room the rest of the way, I saw Chelsea behind him holding a tiny flashlight and a black bag. “What are you doing here?”
“What the fuck kind of question is that? I live here.”
“But…”
Justin cocked his head. “But you didn’t think I was here ‘cause my truck’s not here. So what the hell are you doin’, Chelsea?”
“Nothing.”
“You can tell me or we can call the cops. Your choice.”
Her features were twisted into an expression of defiance as she shifted her eyes to me. “What’s she doing here?”
“I invited her here—unlike you.”
“You were sleeping with her.”
Part of me wanted to screech at this pathetic child but I was beyond fatigued, so I leaned against the wall and kept my mouth shut.
“She’s wearing her fucking clothes, woman, not that it’s any of your damn business. I told you to hit the road a week ago.”
Like any good actress, Chelsea’s expression changed in a flash, and now she wore a pout. “It can’t be over, Justin.”
“It can be and it is. You and me? We won’t work.”
“You didn’t even give us a try.”
“Oh, I did, darlin’. Now why don’t you tell me how you got in here.” Chelsea simply glared, clenching her jaw. “Randi, would you mind callin’ the cops?”
“Sure.” Except I had no clue where my shit was. Not that it mattered. I knew Justin well enough to suspect this was a bluff.
“Fine,” Chelsea huffed. After dropping the flashlight in the bag, she reached inside her jacket pocket and handed Justin a shiny gold key.
He turned it over in his hand. “Clever girl.” As he shoved it in his jeans pocket, he said, “If you must know, Randi and I do sleep together. We’ve been good friends for a really long time.” Chelsea’s glare turned into a look of devastation as a tear dropped from her eye. “You and me? We were just a fun thing—and you’ve got a bit of stalker in you. Little girl, you’re not gonna have good relationships if that’s what you do to guys. Now tell me what’s in the bag.”
She blinked, forcing more tears to fall down her cheeks, and jutted out her chin again.
“I don’t wanna force you to show me—but it’s either me or the cops.”
“Fine. I brought a couple of cameras.”
I watched Justin swallow—he was probably even more shocked than I was. This woman was psychotic, and maybe it was lucky we’d caught her now. “Jesus. Is there anything else I should know about?” She shook her head slowly in response. As he touched her at her elbow, he led her toward the door, much like he’d led me away from Buckley’s house earlier in the evening. “You need to go home and think long and hard about this. What you did tonight was illegal, and I could have you arrested if I wanted to.”
“But—”
“No. You’re gonna listen—and if you want a boyfriend who cares about you, you gotta stop acting desperate. You’re pretty, Chelsea, and cute and sweet when you want to be. You can have any guy you want. You don’t want me.”
“No, I do. I want you.”
“You don’t. Trust me on this. You don’t even know me.” As he opened the door, he and Chelsea stepped outside. Part of me was tempted to go over there to eavesdrop—but I wasn’t in the mood for something that would most certainly be emotionally draining. I had nothing more to give. So I let my back slide down the wall until I was sitting on the floor.