“Please, spare me the I care about you speech.”
“But I do, Pandora. I do care about you. You’re my friend and if I ever did anything to make you think—”
“You didn’t.” She turned away and started putting her things into the box again. She picked up the stapler. “It’s like you never even noticed me. But I noticed you. Every damn day. And every day I’d tell myself not to love you. Not to want you. Not to notice how special you are. But my stupid little heart wouldn’t listen.”
She threw the stapler into the box.
“I’m sorry you feel that way. Fuck, the last thing I want is to hurt you. But, Pandora, this shit, it crosses the line.”
“I know. I crashed and burned.” Her tape dispenser joined the stapler in the box. Followed by the stationery caddy, pens, pencils, and a sugar skull coffee mug. “I’m sorry about last night. I made a fool of myself.”
“Last night I can swallow. We’ve all done things we’ve regretted. It’s the other shit that we need to talk about. The fucked-up shit.”
With a dramatic turn of her head, she looked at me.
“I sent you a couple of gifts. A hip flask. A picture. Tickets to Bob Seger—”
“And what about the worn panties?”
She pulled a face.
“What worn panties?” Her perfectly arched eyebrows drew in. “What the hell are you taking about? Do I look like I’d send worn panties to someone?”
I didn’t reply because I was confused.
And because she absolutely did look like she would send a pair of worn panties to someone.
But her embarrassment was running deep through her, so I didn’t press the point any further.
“What about the black flowers? The decapitated doll heads?”
“Decapitated doll heads? What the hell?”
“You also broke into Honey’s apartment. Stole her necklace. Pandora, that’s psycho shit.”
“Break in?” She thrust her hands on her hips “What the fuck are you talking about?”
I had to give it to her, she did look genuinely confused.
“Don’t try to deny it. You admitted to it last night. You’re the girl who was doing all this crazy stuff.”
“Sure, I sent you a couple of gifts. But breaking into your apartment and stealing jewelry?” She looked mortified. “Fuck you, Caleb, I may be a little crazy for you, but I’m not a fucking psycho.”
“You’re denying it?”
“Hell yes, I’m denying it. You’re right, that is crazy shit.” Her hands fell to her sides as she took a step toward me. “You might take my breath away, but you haven’t completely voided me of my sanity.”
A slow tingle began its ascent up my spine.
“You really didn’t send me that crazy shit?”
She cocked an eyebrow at me. “Worn panties? Decapitated doll heads? Fuck, Caleb. You need to ask yourself, who the fuck did you drive crazy?”
Her words burst like a confetti ball across my brain.
You know you always drove me crazy.
My breath left me as alarm ripped through me, and it was all I could do to rasp out her name when I realized what was happening.
“Honey…”
CALEB
I pushed my Harley to its limits as I roared back to Honey’s apartment, my mind crazed with worry.
All this time she had been watching me.
Watching Honey.
Waiting for the right moment.
And if I was right, last night Honey and I had given it to her.
Brandi.
She wasn’t back in Los Angeles.
She was right here. Getting ready to pounce.
Pulling up out front, I bounded up the stairs two at a time, and when I reached the top, a flare of panic shot off inside of me. The front door was slightly ajar, and through the crack I could see Honey and Brandi sitting at the table. Honey was sitting very still while Brandi was animated as she ranted, using her hands and her arms to drive her points across.
I pushed the door open and walked in. Brandi looked up and stopped talking, her face breaking into a big smile.
“Baby! Finally, you’re home,” she said, her eyes wide and bright with madness. “We’ve been waiting.”
My eyes shifted to the gun sitting in the middle of the table, and then to Honey. She looked terrified.
“Brandi, what are you doing?” I asked in a low, calm voice.
My ex-girlfriend looked at me with crazed eyes.
“Well, now that you ask, I’m here to tell this stupid bitch to back the fuck off from my man.” She stood up and came toward me. She looked like hell. Normally well put together with an air of confidence, her once luscious hair was in a wild tangle and her usually beautiful eyes were bright with a craziness that exceeded a bad mood. She was having a psychotic breakdown. She was maniacal.
She was dangerous.
I needed to get her out of there and away from Honey.
“Honey hasn’t done anything wrong. You’re angry. But you’re angry at me, no one else.”
“Oh, I disagree.” Her eyes were dark, her face hard and rough. She looked at Honey like she wanted to end her. “She’s done nothing but keep you from me.”