Cursed by Chemistry (20 page)

She stared at Richard’s name through several rings, as the heat crept up her face and fueled her pulse into a pounding beat. What if she just ignored it?

What more could he possibly have to say?

She touched on the “accept” button. Her voice laced heavy with disdain. “How dare you call me?”

“Sorry. Are you home?”

Shauna’s jaw unhinged with offense. Reverting to pleasantries. Just like that. And what was last night? A werewolfing, full moon? Alien abduction?

“Look, I don’t know what happened last night…” he began.

So we’re playing amnesia now are we? Oh, Shauna knew that game. “Who is this?” she demanded.

He paused. “It’s Richard. I need to meet with you.” His voice sounded cordial but urgent, as though he feared that with one false move, she might hang up. Or come through it and strangle him.

If only.

“Why should I waste even one millisecond of my time—” Shauna’s words quivered.

“Hang on. Let me explain.”

No.
Something small and pained cried out from inside her. Not even the slickest of excuses could mask what he’d done. Any attempt at all would ooze off his face, like dog barf in the summer sun.

It’d smell the same too.

Shauna tossed the phone to the passenger seat and stared it down with her arms folded tight.

Richard started, and then restarted his defense. Or at least that’s what Shauna assumed was happening. The word “sorry” wasn’t in his vocabulary, and it took far less time than the blabbering, gnome-like rant that sounded from her phone. Only when he yelled her name, did the words take shape. “Are you even listening to me?” the tiny voice demanded.

“Nope,” she called into the mouthpiece.

“That’s it. I’m coming over,” he said.

Shauna’s stomach clenched. Wait. She was supposed to be at work. How’d he know her location? She gasped at the gray, lit screen. The unassuming keypad display. He probably bugged her phone.

Tracked her this whole time.

If that were true, what were the odds that she’d really lost the agent on that turn-off road?

She looked back to her rearview, expecting him to screech around the corner at any second.

Nothing.

She twisted in her seat to take in the full three hundred sixty degrees. Still not there.

All the more reason to believe Richard and the feds were connected somehow. The agent never showed up here. That was Richard’s job.

Her attention whirred to the street, and she jabbed the down-window button with her index finger. She could go without a phone for a day. Get a new one. Transfer her contacts.

She snatched her phone, poised to throw, and the image of shattering plastic flashed in her mind.

But what about Adrian? Her lungs fought to expand under their own weight.

“If you want Kimmy to keep that home, meet with me,” the distant voice said.

“Why?” Couldn’t they settle this over the phone? She liked him better gnome size. The kind that can be pancaked with just one swift-moving vehicle. Hell, old Ms. Jonas, down the street would be ideal! Slow and painful. With a big-ass Cadillac.

“I just need a break-up, that’s all.”

“A break-up?” Was he serious? “Isn’t it obvious by now?”

“You know my family. Relationships don’t just dissolve without being accounted for. The public will want answers.”

“I’ll call the paper myself.”

“They’ll want a face. A conference,” he countered.

Shauna breathed a sigh of impatience. She could feel her inner resolve crumbling in the long pause that stretched across the connection.

“I’ll think about it.” She pressed the end button. Then pressed again, extra hard, for good measure. The pad of her thumbs popped and skidded along the phone’s surface as she applied more force. If only she could squish the damn thing like putty.

Kimmy would want her to agree to it. No question. She’d jump at the chance to stay locked inside. She panned the house again. Taking the deal would only offer her a well-manicured prison, and an abusive landlord.

Her attention veered back to the front when a flash of color appeared at the door.

Kimmy leaned out from the brick courtyard that guarded the entrance and waved a staying hand. She turned away and made a few hurried, collecting motions, then crept from the alcove with cigarette and lighter in one hand, chunky, black stilettoes in the other. She glanced from one end of the yard to the other then back again.

Shauna stared at her. She figured she’d have to pry her little agoraphobe out of that house. How much medication had she taken?

Kimmy dropped into a crouch when a pair of construction men crossed her path. She cringed down behind the replacement door they were carrying until it passed and left her exposed. She looked and crept forward again. Her knuckles whitened as she gripped her shoes and held them to her chest, spikes pointed out.

Her red, silk robe billowed behind her, its ties flapped wildly on either side. Its golden embroidery glinted in the autumn afternoon and danced with the sequined, cocktail dress underneath. The morning’s events seemed to have transformed her from woebegone victim to an ancient Chinese fighting champ. On the outside, anyway.

Shauna hoped her grin looked encouraging. “Now look who’s being thrust into greatness.”

She waited for Kimmy’s smarmy comeback. Probably something high on the shock-and-awe scale, something about sex and the importance of great thrusting, but Kimmy ignored the comment. Her friend clamped the cigarette tight in the corner of her mouth. “How about this? He doesn’t bother to lift a finger to fix the place up until we get kicked out.” Her voice quivered with a mixture of anger and bitterness.

Shauna released a heavy sigh, and her last bubble of optimism went with it. No witty relief today. The undercurrent of Kimmy’s anxiety was still there; it showed in the beads of perspiration on her upper lip and her painted-doll complexion. Makeup could do wonders, but it couldn’t hide everything. “So what now?”

The flutter of Kimmy’s lashes seemed delayed when she blinked at the huge orange and white moving pod. “Temporary storage for most of it. Moving guys will be here in a couple hours.”

Shauna frowned. “But where until we find something permanent?” Sure, there must be some sort of grace period on the eviction notice, but if she could escape this place today, she’d do it. Before Kimmy’s medication wore off.

Her friend didn’t answer. Too busy nursing her cigarette to the lighter. She swayed and missed a few times before finally connecting. “I’ve packed all the necessities.” She drew on the cig for a moment, then pulled it away. She nodded toward the street. Smoke wafted from her lips with each word. Her tone lightened. “We’ll stay with him.”

Chapter Seventeen

Shauna followed her gaze to the blue-ray Camaro that had just turned the corner.

Her heart stumbled through its next painful beat. “What? No.” Not Adrian.

Kimmy watched his approaching vehicle. “Yes.” Her grin turned sly, further staining her crimson-rimmed cigarette. “Oh, yes, sir, it’s perfect timing. It’s meant to be.”

“But I haven’t even talked to him.” Uh. Actually, she had. Shauna mentally face-palmed herself. She’d left him an urgent message what seemed like a lifetime ago. Of all the rotten luck—and timing. Now he’d think that she called about the move.

“Wait. Hang on a sec,” she pleaded, as she shoved her car door open. She dashed around the front of the car toward Kimmy. The open and shut of Adrian’s own vehicle echoed through her mind, but she still couldn’t face Mr. Prophylactic.

Hell, she didn’t even want to talk to him. And moving in?
Pifft
, the crazy-cation ended hours ago, remember?

Shauna swallowed against the panic that pulsed in her throat; it squeezed tighter with every beat. She’d move back home with her parents. That’s what. Kimmy could…do whatever Kimmy does.

But even as the plan struggled to materialize, Shauna knew she could never pull the seams together. It had been a prideful move to stay away from her parent’s home since she graduated high school. Even after the attack. Putting that aside, how would Kimmy survive on her own? She stared at Kimmy and the expectant fist she’d planted on her hip. That woman needed someone. Until Shauna could safely offload the burden, she
was
that someone.

“Here. Lemme help,” Kimmy said. More a challenge than an offer as she reached for the luggage.

Shauna’s whisper turned fierce with urgency. “I don’t need your help, because this is not happening.” She stuck out her thumb and gestured south. “There’s plenty of decent hotel rooms by the freeway. Wi-Fi and everything.”

Kimmy paused. She squinted at Shauna. “Wha-happen’ to your face?”

Shauna touched her cheek, then glanced to her fingertips. Oh yeah. “It’s a long story,” she began then snapped her mouth shut.

Ah. Distraction. Kimmy’s favorite. The conniving brat had already turned her back and moved for the real target. She’d snatched a hefty, powder-red tote and lumbered toward Adrian’s car.

Shauna plopped onto the remaining stack of suitcases. She couldn’t suppress the cringe; Adrian was still an opportunistic jerk, but the poor guy didn’t know what he was in for.

Maybe Kimmy would deliver the tongue-lashing he deserved. Pointless to stop her, Shauna may as well see how this played out.

He’d tell her no. He told everyone no.

Her gaze flicked to Adrian, who had folded his arms and leaned against the passenger door of his vehicle. Then to the barefoot-bullfighter staggering toward him.

“You remember me? Right?” Kimmy insisted, her voice a bit louder than necessary.

Adrian’s jawline hardened.

Kimmy pulled the trembling cigarette from her mouth long enough to call over her shoulder. “He remembers.”

The pounding hammers and saw blades swarming the house seemed to freeze, as though a giant puzzle piece had dropped from the sky, squashing Shauna’s world under its weight. Her thoughts misfired with dysfunctional twitches. “You know each other?”

How could they possibly?

Wait
. Her stomach churned with a sickening thought.

He, the mighty hawk of O’Nightingale’s. She, a self-proclaimed frequent flyer.

But she’d seen Kimmy topless way more times than she’d care to admit, and she hadn’t seen any tattoo. She couldn’t be a fellow hawk. Which could only mean one thing. Kimmy had been on the receiving end. She’d already given him a whole
different kind
of tongue-lashing.

Kimmy touched her painted lashes as if to dam up threatening moisture. “Pop the trunk for me, will you, dear?”

Smooth as polished granite, no expression registered on Adrian’s face. His arms remained folded, but his thick forearm twitched as he thumbed the button on his key chain. The trunk clicked.

Of course it did. Adrian was too damn polite not to follow a ladies’ request.

But that was no lady.

Every she-devil ounce of territorial rage hit Shauna. Her lungs kicked on, and heaved with anger. She could practically feel her glossy pink manicure flake away and her nails lengthen to razor-sharp claws. She speared her glare between Kimmy’s shoulder blades. “What are you doing?”

Kimmy tossed her a scant glance. “Don’t worry, he’ll get over it.” She dropped her load into the trunk. The car bounced under the weight.

“And speaking of baggage, you and I have something to discuss, young man. I might have lost my right to you, but it’s only because I refused to go blabbing my big mouth.” She neared Adrian with a pointed jab of her glossy, red finger. “You just
had to know
what was going to happen. Well, I hope you’ve learned something by now. You align yourself with O, and this is what happens.”

Shauna’s tone hardened. “Kim? You need to stop.”

She rounded to Shauna with a wide-eyed look. “I might be a little pill happy, but I’m not stupid. In case you haven’t noticed, we have no other place to go. It’s not safe here for you. It’s not safe for me. At the moment, our lives depend on this. We’re moving on.”

Shauna clenched and unclenched her teeth. Her jaw notched up. “Okay. You go. I’ll find something else.” No way in hell could she stand to watch her best friend cozy up in Adrian’s home.

“Oh, no, you won’t.” Kimmy scoffed. “You’re getting in the car.”

“How do I say this?” Shauna shouted. Her face pinched with rage. “No—”

“You don’t.” Adrian moved toward her.

Her attention smacked pavement as his measured steps drew close. Damn him and that evenhanded authority of his. He didn’t own her, couldn’t tell her what to do, but that tone still put her in line. Even after all these years.

The warmth of his hand cupped under her chin and he steered her gaze back to him. “You never say that.” Gentle warning brewed in his eyes and eased her rage from inferno to rolling boil.

The damn kindergarten teacher to her tantrum. She jerked her chin away, despite the delicious tingle that danced across her skin.

His arm lowered to his side as if he hadn’t noticed. He gave Kimmy a long look when she folded herself into the front passenger seat.

A look that damn well better not be pleasure. Not one grain of it.

Shauna shook her head. Look at this, geared for a battle with no war to win.

So they had a history together. With as much as Adrian—and Kimmy—got around, in this tiny town, it was bound to happen somewhere.

Shauna had a history of her own. A few childhood years and one night that ended in a cotton-candy disaster.

Had she really put herself on the same playing field as
Kimmy
? New anger frothed in her veins. She jabbed an accusing finger toward the car. “She’s self-destructive. Unmanageable. She’s…she’s constantly meddling—”

“She’s an Oracle, Shauna. She always has been.”

Shauna blinked. She gave him a quizzical look. “Don’t tell me you believe all that crap.” Or better yet, did he expect
her
to believe…that he believed that?

Shauna frowned and mentally untangled her spaghetti thoughts one thread at a time. Adrian was all logic and order. He didn’t believe in magic—or love. Or happily ever after. How else could he abandon so many? How could he use them?