Vicious Little Darling (Love So Cruel #3)

4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

EMBER

M y alarm pierces the silence of my bedroom and I startle awake, shooting straight up in bed. I suck in a sharp breath, and run my hands over my face. Sleep didn’t come easily last night—not with that creepy masked man who had followed me to my apartment and came out of the shadows, but…

There’s nothing I can do about it. Honestly, it was probably a one-time thing, just some guy out to scare people for no reason. Stranger things have happened in this city. I mean, he could’ve gotten me if he’d wanted to. The stand-off we’d had at the front door of my apartment was tense, but the guy didn’t lunge or come at me at all.

You’re just trying to justify not telling anyone, aren’t you? The intrusive thought has me sighing as I climb out of bed and get ready for my shift at the bookstore. I pad to the bathroom, the image of that skeleton mask lingering in my mind. I shudder as I start the shower and step under the water, before washing myself quickly.

Fifteen minutes later, I’m ready to go. I am wearing a pair of dark jeans and a Beauty and the Beast book-themed shirt with the words Hidden Books scrawled across the front. It’s a lame shirt, but it is what it is. I run my fingers through my damp locks, decide I’ll make a cup of coffee once I get to work, and then slip out into the hallway.

“I tell you what,” a voice startles me, but I instantly recognize it as my nosy neighbor, Rose. “This side of town just gets worse and worse.”

“I’m not surprised,” I mutter, trying to slip past her as she tinkers outside of her door. “This area isn’t a great one.”

“Hmm,” she huffs. “I’d think you’d be more concerned knowing there’s some creep wandering around the building and trying to spot you. Not to mention, the nerve of that man.” She shakes her head. “He tried to tell me that he was one of your friends, but I ain’t ever seen one of your friends that looked like that.”

I freeze, spinning around to face her. “Did he have a mask on?”

Rose makes a face at me. “No, if he had, I’d have called the cops or tasered him right on the spot.”

I sigh with relief. “Oh, well, what did he look like?” Part of me is picturing Josh, just making sure that I made it home safely. I wouldn’t put it past him. However, Rose would probably recognize him.

“He looked like a pretty boy.”

My heart stops. “Black hair?”

She shrugs. “Hard to say. He had a hood up, but I told him not to come around here no more.”

My stomach churns, but I force a smile. Maybe it’s nothing… “Thanks, Rose. I’ll keep a lookout.”

“You oughta have a taser,” she responds, not a hint of a smile on her face. “That’s what you really need.”

“I can’t afford one,” I laugh. “I can barely afford to eat most days. I have pepper spray anyway.”

Rose just stares at me for a few seconds, her expression unreadable, before muttering something under her breath and disappearing into her apartment. I’m left standing in the hallway, checking my phone for the time. I really need to get going to make it to work, and I don’t have time to wonder if Rose is—or isn’t—going to reappear from her neighboring apartment.

I shake my head as if it’ll rid me of the unease I am feeling and head down the stairs to the building’s exit. My footsteps freeze as I make it a few feet from the glass door, and my heart thrums in my head as I suddenly picture that guy with his hands against the glass…

And his laugh.

A chill runs down my spine, but I shove it off. Creepier things have happened in the city, and it’s not the first time some weirdo has tried to make a move on me. Besides, it’s almost eight-thirty, so the streets are busy. I shove through the door and step out into the sunlight.

My Converse pound the pavement as I head towards work, maintaining a faster pace than usual. It’s a crisp autumn day, but that doesn’t stop the sweat from beading up along my hairline. The air feels charged, even though I know that’s just in my head. There’s no way the masked guy hung around all night, so he could follow me to work almost twelve hours later.

I’m fine. I’m fine. I repeat the words in my head as soon as the bookstore comes into view. I rush for the large white wooden doors and slip inside, breathing a sigh of relief.

“You look strained,” Rich, the owner, looks up from the front counter, his brows furrowed. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” I say quickly, walking to the back. I slip through the door, hang up my purse and jacket, and then return to the front of the store. We don’t open until nine, and according to my phone, that means we still have fifteen minutes.

“You’re positive you’re okay?” Rich inquires again as I start a batch of coffee. I like Rich, even if Josh doesn’t. He’s like the older brother I never had. He comes from a small trust fund—which is what he used to open the book store—and his upper crust upbringing shows in his close-knit, rich friends. However, he’s always at work, hiding behind his Gucci glasses and slightly graying blonde hair.

“I’m fine. I just overslept.”

He narrows his eyes at me as I straighten up the new release shelf. “You’re not even close to being late.”

“Because I basically ran here,” I joke, shrugging my shoulders. “Is Megan working today?”

He shakes his head. “Nah, she’s going part-time. I can’t afford to give her the raise she wants.” His face looks resigned for a moment, but then he shifts it to more of a smile. “I think it’ll be fine though. I’m going to try some new marketing strategies to hopefully up the traffic in the store.”

“Yeah, that would be cool.” My words come out almost without thinking, as my mind shifts back to the guy outside of my apartment. Maybe I should get a second job and move to a better part of town.

I don’t mention this to Rich, as I get started restocking the shelves and taking care of preorders for a local author’s upcoming release.

It’s an uneventful morning with some new and some familiar faces.

“I’m taking an early lunch,” Rich calls when it hits eleven. “You got the store?”

“Yeah,” I tell him, switching to his spot behind the counter. “Hot date for lunch?”

He smiles. “I wish. But no, it’s just my mom.”

“Nice,” I laugh, and then watch him as he leaves. I settle back into the chair before grabbing a thriller novel and getting comfortable. My stomach growls, but I’ll take my lunch after Rich gets back.

I’m lost in the story of a woman, who killed her husband and is on the run, when the door chimes. I look up to offer a greeting, and am met with a pair of sea green eyes.

“Good morning,” I say.

“Isn’t it like almost noon?” the handsome guy, who stands probably six-foot-three, replies. His sandy blond hair is slightly disheveled, and he’s got ink climbing both arms. He’s fucking hot, and I struggle not to drool.

“Is there something I can help you with?” I ask, as his biceps flex beneath his tight black T-shirt.

“Yeah, actually, there is.” His laugh is light and almost sweet, as he nods to all the shelves. “I’m trying to find a present for my mom. It’s her birthday. She loves to read, and…,” he pauses, his cheeks blushing crimson, “…well, I don’t.”

“Ah, then, I am sure I can help you.” I slide off the stool, my heart beating unevenly as I slip past him. “What kind of books does your mom read?”

“I don’t know. The kind with the cartoon covers? I don’t know anything else.” He chuckles again, and I can tell he’s embarrassed. It’s not the first time I’ve had to help a guy find a book for someone they care about. Sometimes it’s a mom, daughter, wife, girlfriend—mistress. Whatever.

“My guess is she likes romcoms,” I stop him at that section, and pull a few from the shelf. “These are the new releases, so I guarantee she doesn’t have them yet.”

“You’re a lifesaver.” He takes a fall-themed one from me and then pauses. “Actually, I think I’ll just get them all.”

“Okay,” I say, nodding up toward the counter. “That’s fine by me.”

“Do you get commission?”

I give him an incredulous look. “Are you being serious?”

He bursts into laughter. “Well, I was, but I guess not now.”

“I don’t get commission on them,” I huff a laugh and then ring him up. He pays with the exact cash, and I bag the books up.

“I hope your mom has a great birthday.”

“Yeah, we’ll see,” he chuckles as he takes the receipt.

“Have a nice day, Ember.”

I freeze, fear coursing through my body.

“How do you know my name?” I ask.

He turns around, his eyebrows rising as he gestures to the badge on my shirt.

“Right,” I mutter. “I’m sorry. It’s just been a weird day.”

He nods. “I get that. I hope it gets less weird for you. Or weirder?” He laughs. “Whatever you want it to be.”

“Less weird, but hey, what’s your name?” I call after him, catching his attention just as he grabs the door handle.

He shoots me a flirty grin. “Xander, and if you keep asking questions, I might have to come back to visit.” With that, he winks and slips out of the store, the door closing behind him.

I stare after him, heat flushing to my face. God, I made that so awkward! I run my fingers through my hair, just as the door chimes once more. I hope it’s the tattooed hottie coming back in to get my number, but instead, it’s an elderly lady.

“Good morning,” I say to her, feeling a little light-headed after my conversation with that hottie.

She gives me a weird look, and then heads straight for the historical fiction section of the store. I sit quietly on the stool, drumming my fingers on the counter instead of going back to reading my book. Part of me feels as if I missed an opportunity with the guy who came in to buy the books. I rarely get up the nerve to flirt, and he seemed receptive to it, but then again, he could’ve asked for my number if he was actually interested.

Ugh. I never attract the guys that I actually find attractive. That notion sends my heart dropping and, as Rich steps back into the store, he notices that something is off—again.

“What’s with the long face, you’re going to scare off the customers,” he chuckles, setting his to-go drink down on the counter. “Seriously.”

“Nothing.” I let out a sigh. “I swear I just sometimes think I’m going to be alone forever.”

“Yeah, well, join the club,” he snorts, but then grows serious. “I have a friend though. His name is Dylan, super cool guy. He’s trying to find the right one. I could set you guys up. He’s definitely your type.”

I toy with the idea, and then stare longingly at the door, reminded of Xander. “You know what, yeah. Okay. Set us up.”

“Cool, I’ll have him set me up, too. Then we’ll all go out together.”

I nod. “Deal.”