Chapter 8
Harry's kind parting words did nothing to ease my nerves for the rest of the night and my anxiety carried well into the following morning, despite Meatloaf laying on my chest in an attempt to calm me down.
I must have done something bad in my past life to deserve this. There was no other way around it, no other reason why a terrifying, weirdly obsessive tattoo artist was following me around under the pretence that it was to make sure I didn't get killed.
Me. River Madden. The girl whose biggest worry last week was whether I was going to be able to get the instant noodle stain out of my white sweatshirt.
Now, as I got ready for work and puttered around my small apartment, I was no longer worrying about 99 cent ramen bowls but instead whether someone was going to break down the flimsy lock on my front door and put a bullet through my skull. I mean, realistically, what the fuck would I do? I'd have to just stand here like an idiot and let them do it.
"I know, Meatloaf," I cooed, squatting down to give her a scratch behind her ears before placing a pathetic looking bowl of food in front of her. "I promise that if Mr. Scary Harry doesn't kidnap me for too long tonight, I will buy you some more food, okay? The good kind. We're treating ourselves after this week, little homie."
A glance at my fridge had me rolling my eyes. I could have sworn I wrote down a grocery list, but it seemed I'd been too frazzled to even do that. Though knowing that I needed to stock up on everything wouldn't make shopping too hard, if I could just get a few minutes on my own to actually go.
Harry's wonderful threat about him coming back today was annoying enough on its own. Not because of the whole "if you aren't already dead" thing, but because the bastard hadn't even specified a time and I had no way to contact him. Was he thinking in the afternoon? Early evening? I thought serial killers were punctual and I had half a mind to tell Harry that, when he wasn't terrorizing me, I actually had a life to live.
A life that, despite everything, I was ready to get back to.
Olivia texted in our group chat on my way down to the back parking lot of my apartment building reminding all of us of our weekly lunch plans that we were due to have today. The message alone was enough to make me breathe out a sigh of relief at the normalcy that came along with it.
"I... can't... wait," I spoke slowly into the speaker of my phone, where it so precariously dangled from my fingers atop the art easels and canvases that I was struggling to drag to my car. The small words typed themselves out onto my screen and I leaned down, pressing send with the tip of my nose.
My art class had been cancelled yesterday so I hadn't bothered bringing them into the studio, knowing they'd sit around unused, but I figured that today was a good day to drag them in for next week considering it would help to take my mind off things.
Plus, a blank canvas for me to pour the raging antics of my mind onto could do me some good as well.
Fishing my keys from my pocket, Moira's trunk popped open with a small groan and I lifted in my items, placing them gently down inside. I slammed the trunk shut, digging through my purse in an attempt to see if I had remembered to bring my lip-gloss when something out of the corner of my eye made me pause.
My apartment building was small. I'm talking, like, six units small. And of those six tenants, only myself and an old lady named Martha had cars parked in the back lot. Martha's car hadn't been used in months meaning that normally I was the only one out here.
Except for today, as I slowly spun on my heel to face the brick-walled building entrance a few hundred feet away, there was someone else. A black SUV was parked directly in line with Moira, tinted windows preventing me from catching a glimpse of the driver.
My breath immediately hitched in my throat.
"Okay," I muttered to myself with a small shrug. My feet took careful, calculated steps toward my car door. "It's fine. It's no big deal. People drive big, scary tinted SUV's all the time." I swallowed hard, half-jumping into the front seat as I added, "Maybe it's a celebrity. Probably someone famous just coming to hide out in my apartment parking lot."
Even clicking the locks shut did nothing to ease my anxiety.
"Jesus, Moira," the words came out a bit strained as I struggled for a few seconds to get her to start. The engine finally came to life with an exaggerated sputter. "You want me to die too, huh?"
My fingers aimlessly fiddled with the dials of the radio as I pulled out of the lot, careful to keep my eyes averted while passing the SUV. I mean, it looked empty, but who could tell with those god-awful tinted windows?
"Who even needs those?" I mumbled aloud, letting my shoulders droop slightly once on the road. "Unless you're having a lot of sex, who the fuck are you trying to hide from–"
I spoke too soon.
For a few seconds, I tried to convince myself that I was dreaming. That I was stuck in some sort of horrible nightmare, fitfully tossing and turning in bed with Meatloaf at my side, as I caught sight of the SUV in my rear-view mirror pulling out onto the road behind me.
"Oh, fucking hell," I groaned.
What do I do?
I didn't exactly have a fucking gun in my console like Harry and this car was definitely following me... right?
No... I was probably just being paranoid. Harry said people wanted to kill me. If that was their intent, I wouldn't have left the parking lot alive. There was no reason for this SUV to be following me unless they were terrible at their job.
I let out a small snort as I flicked on my turn signal, internally scolding myself at how I'd gone from zero to one hundred. Always thinking the worst was out to get me–
The SUV turned their signal on as well.
Both of us pulled up to a red light.
I blew out a small breath, tightening my grip on the wheel.
"Moira," I whispered, glancing between the road and my rear-view mirror. "What do I do? Should I call someone?"
As if on cue, the sound of my phone ringing tore me out of my thoughts and caused me to jump. I scrambled around to try and locate it, leaning over the length of my car to grab my purse from the passenger seat when someone honked.
I shot straight up, glaring in the mirror, only to glance back at the road and realize the light was green.
"What the fuck?" I muttered. "Did my stalker just honk at me?"
Way to not draw attention to yourselves, assholes.
The ringing commenced on my phone again and as I turned the corner, watching the SUV do the same behind me, I finally snagged it from the depths of my bag.
"Hi," I said a bit breathlessly, pressing the speaker button and throwing my phone down into my cupholder.
"You good, bug?" Olivia laughed through the receiver.
"I'm good," I lied, taking another glance at the car trailing me. "Just... on my way to work."
"Yay! I'm actually on the way there myself."
I glanced down at the phone beside me, furrowing my brows and wondering if I'd heard her correctly. "Wait, you're coming to the studio?"
"I am," my friend sing-songed. There was a gentle hum of a car starting up from the other end. "Missed you. Figured I'd come hangout 'til lunch."
Relief bloomed in my chest. As much as I hated the thought of Olivia being anywhere near the chaos that had ensued these past couple of days, I was selfishly glad that I wasn't going to be at the studio all by myself.
Would I ever admit that to Harry? No way.
"It's been slow recently," I mumbled, trying not to let my nerves show in my voice. The studio was nearing, and the SUV was still following me.
"Perfect," Olivia responded. "Means we'll have more time to talk."
Not exactly the reaction she should be having when her Dad literally owns the studio, but I hadn't really expected anything else. My heart picked up in speed as I slowed to turn into the parking lot, chewing nervously on my lip, keeping a close eye behind me.
"I'm here," I said nervously, pulling into the closest parking spot. "Are you on the way?"
I watched through the window, paralyzed briefly in fear, while the SUV slowed down for a beat as they passed me in the parking lot before picking back up in speed and driving away. I slumped forward, breathing out a sigh of relief and resting my head against the steering wheel.
"Rough morning already?"
My head shot up and I turned to see that Olivia had pulled into the parking spot beside me. She was grinning. The sound of our call ending rung out through the car and she motioned for me to roll the window down.
"What's up, missy?" She asked from her car, having rolled down her own window. "Why do you look like you haven't slept?"
"Nice," I rolled my eyes. "Just what I want to hear–"
"Brought you something." She held up a coffee, shimmying over until her arm hung outside the car close enough that I could grab it.
My face broke out into a grin, mouth-watering as my eyes darted downward toward the takeout cup, and I suddenly forgot all about the scary SUV that had been tailing me on the way here.
--
"It's scabbing," Olivia said with a frown.
"Stop moving," I muttered, rolling my eyes.
She was currently sitting cross-legged on a stool in the gallery while I painted her. Only a few people had come in since we'd opened this morning, meaning we'd migrated to the back to keep ourselves occupied however we could. It was nice though. I hadn't spent much time with her lately, so I savoured whatever moments we had together.
"Is that normal though?" She whined, eyes flitting up to meet mine.
I leaned back, pausing with my brush half-way to the canvas. "Completely normal. Tattoos are supposed to do that. Your skin has been hit repeatedly with a needle hundreds of times, it's like any other wound."
"I guess," she murmured, craning her head to glance at the ink on her hip. She'd ditched her shirt when we'd started, claiming she wanted something sultry to give to her next boyfriend. "It just feels weird."
"Yeah, but don't itch it! Or scratch at it!" I said quickly, resuming my painting and trying to adjust what I had done based on how she was now sitting. "It can ruin the ink and leave you with a scar. I read about it online." Rolling my eyes, I added, "Babe, you literally have like three other tattoos. Did your other ones not scab?"
She jutted out her bottom lip in a pout. "Ones on my ass and the other two are on my back. I've never been able to see them before."
I laughed, shaking my head, ready to begin painting again when the bell up front sounded out. Olivia and I met each other's gaze in panic as she scrambled to grab her shirt from the floor.
"Coming!" I called out, quickly shoving the easel and canvas I'd been working on into a small closet a few feet away.
"Who's ready to get fucking drunk at noon?"
Raven, beaming and flushed, sauntered into the back with her arm draped around Angel. I let out a small breath, bringing a hand to my forehead.
"Jesus, you scared us," I laughed. "I was just painting Olivia half-naked."
Raven flashed us a saucy smile, winking as she said, "Can we see? Sorry, let me rephrase–can we join?"
"Morons," Olivia chided, adjusting her shirt and fixing her hair in the reflection of a metal sculpture we'd bought last week. She reached out, bending it slightly to the left in order to better see herself.
"Careful," I hissed, eyes steadily watching her every move. "That's on hold for a client. And worth about four grand."
Olivia grimaced, taking a step back. She looked back at me, jerking her thumb toward it. "That ugly fucking thing? Looks like it's been run over by a car."
"It's call art, Liv," another voice spoke, and we all turned, watching as Zoe now entered into the small back room, grinning.
"She's here!" My friends all chorused.
"I'm here, I'm here," Zoe rolled her eyes, holding her hands up in mock defence. "There was traffic. Now can we go? I'm starving."
There were no complaints as the five of us made our way out of the studio, talking amongst ourselves – joking and laughing, all debating on which car we would take to the restaurant. When it was decided that Moira was too small, we all trekked across the street to Raven's van.
"Told you this van was a good choice, baby," Raven winked at Angel as she slid the doors open for us all to hop in. "How else would all of us fit?"
"I hate you," Angel grumbled, crawling in first, following by Olivia and Zoe. "I hate this stupid fucking thing. Why couldn't you just get a normal car and not one a middle-aged white man drives?"
Raven barked out a laugh. "Could be worse. I could be driving that thing." She jerked her chin up the road and I turned to see what she was looking at, only to wish I hadn't. My body froze, eyes widening at the sight of the dark, tinted SUV that I had become all too acquainted with this morning.
It was parked along the street, almost diagonal to the studio where Olivia and I had been the whole fucking morning. I somehow missed it. Or they must have pulled up when we were in the back.
"You good?" Raven asked, angling her head to the side to look at me. Her brows furrowed.
"Yeah," I cleared my throat, taking a last look at the van and choking it up to insane coincidence, before hopping in the van. "All good. Sorry."
"Who drives those types of things, anyway?" Zoe asked, scrunching up her nose as Raven slid the door shut and hopped in the front seat.
"Douchebags," Raven answered almost instantly, shifting in her seat as she started the car and reached over to the glove compartment where she pulled out a carton of cigarettes. She cracked the window as she lit one, bracing her free hand on Angel's thigh. For some reason, my brain lingered on the fact that it was the same brand Harry smoked.
"Hey," Olivia whined with a small pout, crossing her arms over her chest. "My Dad gets driven around in those sometimes. And I don't think he's a douchebag."
Raven huffed a small laugh as she pulled out onto the street. She'd started running her thumb in circles on her girlfriend's leg. "Yeah, he might not be a douchebag but he's rich as fuck. Basically, the same thing."
They all laughed, forgetting about it seconds later, easily slipping into another topic. But I didn't forget. That stupid SUV was on my mind for the whole rest of the day. As we drove to the restaurant, while we ate lunch, even when we all took a walk afterwards.
I couldn't shake the image of it out of my mind and I was constantly looking over my shoulder the entire time. It was so frustrating. All I'd wanted was to have a good day with my friends and now here I was, bogged down with yet more fright and unease that I was sure was somehow linked to a certain green-eyed man that I'd yet to fully figure out.
"Riv," Olivia nudged me softly on the way back to the studio. It was too late now to open back up, but I hadn't gotten any calls while we were gone, meaning no one had stopped by anyway.
My eyes met hers – a sparkling, beautiful brown. So blissfully unaware of anything that was worrying me. "Yeah?" I asked. "What's up? You okay?"
The two of us were in the back, knees brushing up against one another. Our three other friends were talking amongst themselves up front – Raven and Angel explaining to Zoe in graphic detail their threesome with Niall. A topic I desperately wanted to stay away from, only because I knew that if I got at all engaged, I would accidentally let slip something about the past few days that had gone on.
"Oh, yeah... Niall. Actually, his lovely friend Harry–remember him? Yeah, well I ran into him a few days ago covered in blood and running from three men. One of which he proceeded to beat up. And then he pulled a gun, kidnapped me, and brought me to some weird, rich fucking fortress that he called his home. Now apparently those same men want to kill me. It might have to do with that SUV from earlier."
"Are you okay?" Olivia whispered.
I gave her a pinched smile. "I'm fine. Just tired."
She eyed me skeptically but resolved not to say anything more, instead giving a small nod. "Make sure you get some rest tonight." She lowered her voice a bit. "Is this about money...? Do you need some help? For me to get you some groceries?"
I quickly shook my head. "No." I braced a hand on her arm as we pulled up to the studio. "Seriously, I'm okay. But I love you. Thank you for looking out for me."
A quick glance out the window as Olivia and I stepped back out of the van had me stiffening. The SUV was still there. It looked like it had moved a bit closer since earlier, making the hair on the back of my neck stand up. There was no way they had followed us... right?
None of my friends seemed to notice, all of them hugging each other and mumbling their goodbyes.
"You guys heading home now?" Zoe asked. She had her head stuck between Raven and Angel in the van, who were driving her home. "Do you need a ride?"
"We drove," Olivia responded.
I was still rooted to the spot, unable to take my eyes off the stupid fucking SUV. When I was finally able to pull my gaze back to my friends, they were all staring at me.
"Sorry," I blurted. "What were you guys saying?"
"She's tired," Olivia said with a small grin, glancing back at everyone. "They just asked if you're down for next week?"
"Oh," I nodded. "Yes. Yeah. Same time next week."
Everyone bade their final goodbyes at my confirmation, Olivia promptly looping her arm through my own as we made our way back toward the parking lot. I hoped she couldn't feel me trembling.
"You sure you're good, bug?" She asked as we stopped at our cars, tucking a lock of my hair behind my ear.
I nodded, swallowing hard. "Just need to get a good night's sleep, I think."
"Okay," she murmured, running her hand down the side of my face and then gripping my shoulder. She gave it a small squeeze as she added, "You don't have to come in tomorrow if you aren't feeling up to it. I can come over and we can–"
"No!" I answered a bit too quickly. Olivia furrowed her brows as I tripped over my words to clarify, "I mean, um, sure. I'll probably still go to work tomorrow but we can hang out afterwards. Maybe we can go to your place?"
"My place?" She asked with a laugh, cocking her head to the side. "You hate my place. You say it's too big and you get lost."
"Well," I sucked in a breath through my teeth with a small laugh. "Maybe I could use the space tomorrow."
And I don't want you at my place in case a certain Harry Styles decides to show up again unannounced.
Olivia looked at me for a few more seconds, as if trying to read me internally, before giving my shoulder a final squeeze and pulling me in for a hug. "Okay," she murmured in the crook of my neck. "My place. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"
"Okay." I let her go, fiddling with the button on her jacket for a few seconds. "Tomorrow. Text me when you get home."
She nodded, giving me a small grin before walking around and stepping into her car. I made no move to get into my own, leaning back on Moira's hood, watching as she did up her seatbelt and met my eye through the window. She gave me a small wave as she started her car and backed out of the spot.
Only when she was fully out of the parking lot, on the road, and far from the studio did I allow myself to let out a small sigh and quickly scrambled to get into my own car. She was safe. That was all I needed to know for now.
Once Moira herself was on the road, I realized just how fucking awful this whole day had been. I adjusted my rear-view mirror, no sign yet of any SUV, but I'd left through the back, so I hoped that – had they actually been following me – they hadn't seen me.
All I'd wanted was to spend a nice, normal day with my friends and the whole time I'd been worried that I was being followed. I mean, normally I was pretty wary of random men or cars that seemed to tail me for a little too long on the road, considering I was a girl that lived on her own, but this was an entirely different ballgame.
This time, my anxious thoughts were warranted considering everything that had gone on.
The drive home felt longer than normal. Moira's engine was the only interruption to my incessant thoughts, considering I didn't dare risk playing any music in fear of possibly getting distracted and missing a potential SUV pulling up behind me.
By the time I finally made it into my apartment building parking lot, every last part of me was alert and on edge. It was almost dark now, and despite the fact that I didn't think I'd been followed, none of my anxiety lessened. I fumbled my way out of the car, locking it quickly, and shoved my hands into my pockets with my keys between my knuckles as I hurried my way over to the entrance of my building.
Oh, how lovely it is to be a woman.
Breathing out a sigh of relief as I entered unscathed and safe, I mounted the stairs at top speed before finally stepping foot on my floor, hoping to just go right to bed after feeding Meatloaf and wash my hands of this whole crazy day.
My fingers were still shaking, and I struggled briefly to unlock my door, feeling my shoulders slump in relief as it finally sprang open. I rushed inside, spinning on my heel to slam it shut and braced both of my hands against the frame, letting my eyes flutter shut with an exaggerated breath.
"What the fuck's got you all worked up?"
I screamed. That was my first reaction. To scream until my lungs hurt, not brave enough to spin around until the last second, only to scream even louder upon seeing the thing that I only knew was about to make my night a million times worse.
Harry Styles sprawled out on my couch, cigarette hanging out of his mouth, with my fucking cat in his lap.
--
A/N:
Sorry, not quite done chapter 9 yet but I should have it up tomorrow! Thank you to all of the new readers recently, I love you and wanna give you all a smooch! hehe
- v