Good Girl : An Enemies-to-Lovers, Roommate Romance (Alphahole Roommates Book 2), page 7
I’m dizzy, I feel weak, and my heart hammers hard in my chest. Fast. Too fast, it feels like, but I keep looking for my laptop. Please don’t let it be gone. Please don’t let one of Shane’s junkie friends have taken it.
I look under the bed. It’s not there. I look in the bedding, which is all messed up (it wasn’t when I left earlier. We haven’t used this room. I’ve used the master bathroom, but Shane and I are both using the spare room for our stuff and he’s sleeping on the floor.) I sway with a headrush, like I got up too fast.
The guy hollers from behind me, “What are you doing?”
Why does he keep hollering at me? I can’t take it anymore.
“I need my laptop! And I don’t know where I’m going and what I’m doing and where Shane went and God, this is just my luck.”
I realize that I’m shouting at him instead of talking calmly, instead of acting sorry, which I am, but I can’t make myself stop shouting.
I blow out air and try to calm myself.
“You understand you’re fired, right? I’m gonna need the keys.”
“Fired from what, though? I tried to tell you I don’t work here.”
He looks at me strangely.
“You’re quitting after trashing the place?”
“No, I did work for Aiden and he moved. Do you not know this?” I snap.
He looks at me with confusion. “Did you know I was coming? Alice call you?”
“Alice? Who the fuck is Alice?”
I almost laugh. That’s the name of that song. A song Shane’s punk band friends started practicing after we moved our stuff in there the other day.
He gives me a weird look. “Let me get this straight. You aren’t here because you were rehired by CC?”
“Cici?”
“Carmichael Consul – never mind. What exactly are you doing here? Throwing parties and squatting in my brother’s place if you don’t work for him?”
“I…” I feel dizzy. Dizzier. “He said to consider myself freelance. I was just stuck and…” I lean against the wall.
“Does freelance mean you can throw sex parties in his apartment? Are you a hooker?”
“A what?”
“Stripper?”
He gestures to me with a face that says, duh, look at you.
My face burns hot.
“I’m not a hooker, not a stripper! How dare you!”
“I came in here and found a couple goin’ at it in the spare room and you in your dominatrix gear with that other couple gettin’ it on in my brother’s room, so yeah, I dare.”
If I were a stripper or a hooker I probably wouldn’t be homeless. Though, maybe I’d be bad at it so homeless anyway.
He shakes his head. “Just go or I call the cops. My brother might decide that they’re getting called anyway when he gets a load of this fucking place. Is that a goddamn … what the fuck? Is that a tarantula?”
“A what?”
“Look!”
I don’t wanna look, but he’s looking so I turn my head to look over my shoulder and immediately let out a blood curdling screech. There’s a giant furry spider walking through the sheets as casual as can be, like it’s his bed!
I run behind the guy, grabbing his shirt at his back.
He shrugs me off.
Ew. This guy is tall, built, and well-dressed, but he smells like vomit.
“Bitch, do not touch me! What the fuck?” he snaps.
What the fuck is right. It’s the biggest spider I’ve ever seen. It has to be over a half a foot in diameter, and it’s one of those fluffy ones. Is it poisonous? I do not want it to get close enough to me for me to find out.
It tumbles off the edge of the bed onto the floor, and rights itself, then comes toward us, making me screech again.
“Shut up,” Aiden’s relative snaps.
I book it for the living room, shuddering, while shouting, “Shut it in there. Shut it. Shut it!”
Aiden’s relative shuts the door and demands, “What was that?”
“I don’t know!” I’m still yelling in a screeching, high-pitched voice.
That was the biggest, scariest spider I’ve ever seen.
It dawns that it could be one of my brother’s friend’s. Sedgewick wasn’t here tonight, but there was another guy that might have been the drummer. I remember Shane talking about the singer walking around with his exotic pets out in public and he said he often has them on him during their shows. Their punk band name has something to do with insects, too, if I recall.
I didn’t even get into the master bathroom for all my toiletries. And my clothing bag is still in there because I dropped it while I was looking for my laptop.
I’m not going back in there. I’m still wearing the stupid slutty magician’s assistant getup and I might have to wear it for the rest of my life. Unless I have to exchange it for an orange prison jumpsuit.
“This… this is all just a series of unfortunate events. I’ll try to call Aiden again, explain…”
“Aiden is on his honeymoon. How is it a mishap that you’re in his apartment throwing some sort of freak sex party with costumes, giant spiders, pythons, and puking drugheads?”
“They got married? That’s awesome.”
He looks at me like I’m insane and then pulls the phone from his pocket again.
“Wait, pythons?” I look around, absolutely terrified.
He’s dialing on his phone.
“Wait… I was just… I was stuck and I still had a key, and I couldn’t get ahold of him and Shane… Shane threw the party and…”
“I don’t know who the fuck Shane is. Keys.” He holds his hand out.
“He’s my brother, and… he’s in trouble. Um…” I’m so lightheaded. I sit down on the couch and put my face into my hands.
“Are you junked out too, lady? Seriously, you need to gimme the keys and skedaddle. I really don’t wanna deal with the cops tonight after the fuckin’ day I had but I will if that’s gonna get you outta here.”
I can’t find my laptop, I don’t know where Shane went, and I have no place to go. And this guy is yelling at me and threatening to call the police.
He’s talking to me in a way I’ve never been spoken to. I don’t think I’ve ever had a confrontation such as this in my entire life.
I blow out a breath as my eyes rove the kitchen. There are my keys. Where’s my purse? I don’t see it there. I move in that direction, feeling super dizzy. Where’s my purse? He follows me and he’s asking me where I think I’m going.
I wrack my brain. I think I dropped it on the island when I got in and headed to find my brother.
Why did I drop it? This place was full of creeps. Why did I put it down? Shit. Shit, shit, shit, Jada.
I’m not thinking straight. I haven’t been thinking straight, I’m that stressed out. I look around me. I twirl at least twice trying to find it.
I’m feeling downright sick to my stomach right now. Lightheaded. I don’t know where my brother is, where my purse and phone and laptop are, or what the heck I’m going to do.
Oh. My phone is in the back pocket of my booty shorts. I pull it out. 3% remaining. No calls or texts from Shane.
I text him.
“Call me!”
I have to find my charger. I see it plugged in by the microwave.
“Listen,” the guy calls out, “I don’t know what your game is, if you’re even this girl that worked for my brother or not so I’m gonna say this is your last chance. Out.”
God.
“Out or I physically remove you,” the guy adds.
“Can I leave my and my brother’s stuff here tonight and come back tomorrow and figure it out? I’ll clean up and…”
“Go.”
“Let me have twenty minutes to get some charge on my phone, please? And then I’ll go. Fuck. I don’t know where, but I’ll wait for Shane outside, I guess. And then when he gets here, I’ll come back and clean and pick up all my stuff. I need to find my laptop and…”
“Bitch,” he grinds out, “just fucking-”
I rear back. “There’s no reason to talk to me like that, buddy! Nobody in my life has ever spoken to me like this, not even my dad and my dad is a real dick.”
He looks around and then his blue eyes hit mine with those eyebrows raised again. “No? Really? Would you rather I call the cops and you spend the night in jail?”
“Maybe,” I whimper and then I’m crying into my hands. God, what a mess. “Maybe jail is a good idea because I don’t know where I’m gonna go tonight.”
“Right. Fuck off.” He gestures to the door, sounding like he’s exasperated, like he’s had just about enough of my nonsense.
“Believe me, buddy, I’ve had enough of it, too,” I mutter.
“What?” He reaches for my elbow and tries to usher me toward the door. I pull away.
“Listen, I know you don’t know me, but I have nowhere to go. My bag is missing. My laptop, and my brother left with some skank!”
“Why is this my problem?”
I back up until my back is touching the door and try to reason with him.
“You don’t believe me but I’m telling you, I’m really stuck here. Please. Let me clean up, I’ll sleep on the couch and tomorrow, figure out what I’m gonna do. Someone took my purse, I can’t find my laptop, my phone has three per cent power, and my brother is on some sort of bender. I don’t know where he’s gone but he will know how to get back here to me when he sobers up. Please. Carly and Aiden wouldn’t send me out onto the street like this. All my stuff is in Aiden’s room and I can’t go in there with that spider there. I’m terrified of spiders and snakes.”
He glares at me. “If there’s a fuckin’ snake in here, too…”
“That’s not what I mean. But you said you saw a snake.”
He stares for a long minute. My god, I feel so sick. I think I’m having a panic attack and this guy thinks I’m on drugs.
“A guy had a snake around his neck. I can only assume he took it. Fine,” he snaps, finally. “You stay here with the spider. I’m goin’ to a hotel. One of your junkie friends threw up on my shit and I do not know who the hell has been sleeping in these beds but judging by the look of all of you, this place needs to be fumigated before I’ll sleep in it.” He points at me. “If you’re not Jada that worked for my brother, I’ll find out who you are, and you’ll be charged.” He pulls out his phone from his pocket and snaps a picture of me.
I jolt. He takes another one.
It feels like I just got my mugshot taken.
“And if you are her, there’s a good chance you’re never working for my family or our company again and you might still face charges.”
And I’m just feeling the lowest I’ve ever felt in my life.
“Thank you for not making me go.”
He growls at me and grabs his suitcase. “I’m coming back here in twelve hours. You’ve got that time to clean this shit up and get your shit sorted. You’re not working for me. And get that fucking spider outta here. And if one single thing is missing…”
“I’m not taking anything! What does that even mean?” I ask. “I’m not working for you? Why do you keep saying that?”
“You were supposed to get a call from my father’s assistant, Alice, to hire you for the next two to three months doing for me what you did for Aiden. Clearly she didn’t get ahold of you.”
I drop my head. No. Nonono.
“Yeah,” he mumbles. “Though good thing she didn’t, or I wouldn’t have seen your true colors.”
“These aren’t my - I can do for you what I did for Aiden,” I whisper, but I already know it’s too late.
This isn’t who I am but he’s never going to believe that.
“Fuck that shit. You think I’m gonna hire the likes of you to make my life easier? I don’t even wanna fucking be here and I’ve got a shit job to do while I am. The last thing I need is to have a walking disaster trying to take care of my shit when she can’t take care of her own.”
I bite my lip and fight my hardest not to burst into tears.
If I had that job again, I’d get myself sorted out.
Why didn’t I get that phone call?
If I’d gotten that phone call, I wouldn’t have been at that magic gig today. I’d have been here making sure the apartment was ready for him. I’d have had Shane stay in the warehouse with my stuff and I’d have been here, looking professional and ready to do the job they were going to pay me to do. I’d earn enough to get us a new place, to get him his meds, to not be in the position I am right now. It’d be okay to sleep in that warehouse for a couple weeks because an end would be in sight.
Not now though.
Now? Things are royally screwed with no end even on the other side of the horizon, it feels like.
He snarls at me once more for good measure, I guess, and signals for me to move aside. I do and he goes.
He goes and I continued to hunt for my purse, fruitlessly because obviously someone stole it.
And I want to go back into the master bedroom to look for my laptop one more time, in case Shane had the presence of mind to stash my most valuable item, but there’s a giant spider in there. A spider Aiden’s brother expects me to take care of. I laugh. My life. At least the door is closed, and that thing is way too big to climb under the gap.
I shudder.
Will I even sleep tonight knowing it’s in there? And not to mention, not knowing what I’m going to do tomorrow, where Shane is and what possible disaster is up next for me.
I scoff at that notion and pour another glass of water from the dispenser on the fridge and drink it back. Slower this time. I haven’t eaten today. This might be why I feel so weak. That and the stress. The stress that is my very existence.
Maybe I should at least try to look in the master bedroom for my purse.
I find a bag of trail mix in the pantry and munch on a few handfuls, trying to get my blood sugar up. I then grab a trash bag from the cleaning supply cupboard and begin shoving cans and bottles into it. What a mess.
“Where are you, Shane?” I mutter.
The door swings open and hope flares.
Aiden’s brother is holding my backpack purse. My purse!
Hope for Shane burns out, but the sight of my purse is a relief. Even though he’s holding it like it’s going to bite him.
“Oh, thank god,” I say. ”Where was it?”
He looks at me with the bag of trail mix and shakes his head. And I can read his mind; he thinks I’m in here casually eating Aiden’s food in the apartment that is dirty because of me and my brother. He thinks I’m a waste of space druggie who takes her clothes off for money – not that I have anything against strippers or anything, but the way he looked at me? He thinks I’m a piece of shit. With the munchies.
“The elevator,” he says and puts it on the console table by the door. “The wallet was on the floor. I looked inside.”
“At least you know I am Jada Miller,” I mumble. “And I won’t have to replace my ID. That’s something. Of course my cash is gone. Ugh! At least you got my purse back. Aiden’s sister bought this for me.”
And then my eyes go wide. “My wallet! Aiden’s credit card was in here.” I’ve fished around through all the pockets because the pocket I had it in is empty. “Oh shit. It needs to be reported as stolen.” My heart drops.
He rears back and shakes his head. “My sister bought you a purse?”
“Yeah. As a gift. She gave me a gift card to thank me for - never mind. It doesn’t matter.”
He shakes his head. “And why do you have my brother’s credit card?”
Why is it stranger to him and worth noting first that his sister gave me a gift over the fact that his brother’s card is missing?
“It’s mine, or it was. It was even in my name. I had it to do his shopping when I worked for him, so he told me to consider myself freelance for whenever they might come back. That’s why I had the key and the card.”
“Fuck,” he mutters, shaking his head and running his hand through his hair.
Yeah, it sounds like a bad decision for Aiden to leave a key and a credit card with someone who doesn’t work for him anymore, but Aiden trusted me.
“Could it maybe occur to you right now if you stop being angry for one second that your brother trusts me and… and maybe, just maybe you’ve got the wrong impression here? This is not who I am. This…” I point to the floor, “Tonight… it has been a shit storm that I’m caught up in. All out of my control.”
He scoffs. “Your life is the sum total of your decisions. Yours. Mine. Anyone who says anything different is a cop-out lookin’ for a scapegoat for their failures.”
I blink in astonishment.
I mean, in some ways he’s kind of right. But not. Not everyone has control over their circumstances. And how could I make a different decision? A decision to abandon my brother? Unthinkable.
“All this here tonight is your doing,” he continues, waving his finger in an air circle to indicate the entire room. “You had the key. You had the credit card. You hold responsibility for all of this. Like I said, be back in twelve hours. Clean this shit up and be ready to vacate.”
I stare at him, feeling dead inside right now.
This jerk thinks I’m a piece of crap.
He’s definitely a jerk. I’ve tried to explain myself, but zero benefit of the doubt has been given at all. I mean, he doesn’t know me, but if his brother recommended they hire me why wouldn’t he at least hear me out?
He leaves again, locking the door on his way out and I collapse onto the couch and bawl my eyes out. I do it for all of five minutes, because crying will get me nowhere.
So, I get back up and get to work on tidying the apartment (all but the master bedroom because I am not going in there) and charge my phone.
I head into the spare room and Shane has messed that up, too. I start cleaning it and hallelujah, find my laptop under the comforter.
I hug it and cry some more. At least this wasn’t taken. I can job hunt. I haven’t lost my stories. My life is in this thing. It’s a cheap, old, secondhand laptop, but it’s such a relief that it’s here.
***
It’s late when my phone makes a text ding. It’s past two o’clock in the morning, but I grab it in case it’s Shane. I’m sleeping on the couch in case he comes in.
