Possessed By You (Overworld Underground Book 1) (15 page)

How rude!

Jack had purchased another drink for the slut and here she was making time with another bloke. I forced my way between several people, trying to catch her eye so I could give her girl code for "You're a stupid bitch!" I sensed a sudden chill. The man she was speaking with turned slightly, presenting his profile to me. He had short dark hair, blue eyes—my heart went cold with fear and repulsion as recognition took hold.

It was Stephen.

Chapter 13

Stephen had cut his hair and shaved off the long sideburns, but I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt it was him.

Revulsion skittered up my arms like an army of cockroaches. Ana seemed completely taken with him. Her hand unconsciously went to her hair, brushing it behind an ear in the way a nervous schoolgirl would, with a vapid smile on her face. I wasn't close enough to hear their conversation, but having encountered this molester twice, my imagination was more than adequate to fill in the blanks.

I paused, uncertain what to do. The man had attacked me twice. I wondered if I might smash a beer bottle over his head, or grab my stun gun and hit him in the crotch with it.

"Is something wrong?" asked a guy standing near me, apparently taking the open-mouthed look of horror on my face as an indication I was in peril.

"That creep over there keeps bothering me and my friend," I said.

The guy looked over at Ana and Stephen. "Yeah, he was hitting on our female friends earlier." He nodded his head at a group a few feet behind him. "That dude makes creeps look good."

I briefly considered asking him to retrieve Ana for me, but concluded quick decisive action was the best tact. I tried catching Ana's eye, but she had the same doe-eyed look Isabel had worn upon seeing Stephen. I mean, the guy was gorgeous, but his personality was the pits. I decided on direct action. We were in a public place. Surely he wouldn't attack me here. Despite my distaste for Ana and her slutty attitude, I didn't want even her being attacked by this maniac.

I walked over, grabbed Ana's hand, and dragged her away.

Stephen's head flicked toward me. His eyes narrowed for an instant before widening. "
You.
" The word bore contempt and hatred.

"Hello again, you rapey perverted piece of filth. I suggest you get out of here before I call the authorities."

A feral smile crept over his face. "Go ahead. See if I care." He stalked closer. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I was having a conversation with—whatever her name is." He reached a hand toward Ana's.

Ana looked dazed. Her eyes hadn't left Stephen for a minute. I pulled her away. Just then, the guys from the other group stepped forward, blocking the creepy bastard from getting his paws on her.

"Dude, you better leave," said the biggest of the bunch. "The lady told you to leave her alone."

Stephen's eyes sparked with blatant hatred and contempt. "You're lucky I don't want to cause a scene, or I'd wipe the floor with you."

"I'd like to see you try, pretty boy." The big guy cracked his knuckles.

Stephen's fist flashed so fast, I almost wondered if it had moved at all. The big guy doubled over with a gasp. He vomited all over Stephen's shoes. The creep danced back with a curse. "Fucking noms," he spat before pushing away through the crowd.

While the big guy's friends crowded around him, I thanked them and pulled Ana back toward Jack.

"Wh-what happened?" she said, her words thick. "I was talking and then...that man threw up?"

"You were talking to the gorgeous creep," I said. "Blue eyes, black hair, thinks he's God's gift to humanity."

She winced. "I remember him saying hello." A hand went to her stomach. "Oh, I really have to pee."

"Didn't you just go?"

She shook her head.

I reversed course and took her to the bathroom. Miraculously, the line wasn't that long, though I chalked it up to more women putting the men's bathroom to use as alcohol and full bladders decreased their inhibitions.

When we finally returned to Jack, he was staring into his empty drink glass, and starting on the drink he'd bought for Ana nearly fifteen minutes earlier.

"Geez," he said. "Long line?"

"You wouldn't bloody believe." I decided to leave discussing the incident up to Ana. But not only did Ana not discuss it, she didn't seem to remember it at all. It was so frighteningly close to Isabel's reaction, I had to wonder just what Stephen was putting into drinks. Why in the world a man so attractive would need date-rape drugs was beyond me. If he only exercised a bit of control over his narcissism, he wouldn't need to be a rapist.

I shuddered. There was something fundamentally wrong with that man. He was a sociopath—or was it psychopath? I never could remember the distinction. Again, my skin crawled like I'd fallen into a nest of baby spiders. I just wanted to leave. Go home and bury my face in my pillow.

"Did something happen?" Jack said, looking at my face with concern.

"Someone threw up," Ana said, her eyes still looking a bit glazed. "I am not feeling well, Jack. Can we go?"

For once, I wholeheartedly agreed with Ana. "I'm feeling a bit tired myself," I added.

Jack nodded and left the rest of Ana's drink on the table between the divans. During the ride home, Ana didn't say much, just gazed out the window with a blank expression. Such was the dazed look on her face, I half expected her to lick it or do something equally mental.

"Goodnight." Jack got out of the car to give me a hug. "Sorry the bar wasn't that great."

I smiled. "It was fine. Just a bit rowdy."

It was only ten thirty, but the alcohol and the fading shock of seeing Stephen yet again must have worn me out. I fell asleep the moment my head hit the pillow.

The next day I forced myself out of bed around eleven even though I felt as if I could sleep all day with the soothing rain pattering against my bedroom window. I made tea and sat on the couch, looking out the window at the gray city skyline and wondering what to do with myself. I called the hotel number Dad had given me, but only reached voicemail.

"Well, the day's not going to make anything happen for you." I pushed myself up. After taking a shower, I used the GPS on my phone to find a good mall, ending up at Lenox Square in Buckhead. By late afternoon, I'd spent less than a hundred dollars, but managed to pick up a lovely new pair of jeans, a jacket, and a silk scarf that looked remarkably like Ana's, except mine was purple not pink.

I decided to go across the road to check out Phipp's Plaza, knowing full well I couldn't afford anything in the high-priced mall. I took a few wrong turns in the parking deck and ended up belowground in some sort of service area that dead-ended in a concrete wall. Just as I was certain I'd never get back out, a pink Lamborghini with zebra stripes appeared from nowhere I could discern. If I hadn't been in the process of blinking, I would've sworn it came straight through a concrete wall.

Nevertheless, I followed this beacon of bad taste through the twisting deck and back out to the main area. Breathing a sigh of relief, I parked the car and went inside. As I walked around, I passed people who made my senses tingle. Unlike Stephen, they put off something of a warm glow or the slight prickle of static electricity. As one fellow passed me, the image of a great well of glowing light flickered across my vision.

Dizzy, I sat down and gave myself a moment. "I really do need a therapist." Getting a peculiar feeling from being near someone wasn't all that abnormal, but seeing things was. Rarely had so many people set off my senses and I came to the conclusion that seeing Stephen must have affected me more than I wanted to admit. I obviously needed therapy and knew just where to find it. I located a bookstore with a nice selection of tea in their cafe and bought the sequel to a smutty novel I'd wanted to read for a while.

While ratcheting up my randy factor probably wasn't the best thing for me to do considering the lack of man solutions, I decided the little box of toys in my closet were a lot less troublesome than any man. Just pop in a fresh set of batteries, and they were all the company I needed. They didn't go out drinking, lie to your face, or cheat on you after having their way with your body.

If only they cuddled.

After depressing myself with such thoughts, I thought it perfectly reasonable to treat myself to a nice dinner with wine and chocolate pie for dessert, all while fantasizing about telling Ana I could eat anything I wanted. Of course, that required ignoring the little ninny in me that was freaking out about how many calories I'd consumed over the past two weeks. I hadn't gone near a scale lately, nor did I intend to. So long as my jeans still fit, I would do my level best to ignore the elephant in the room, even if I
was
the elephant.

Jack texted me to ask if I was feeling better. After waiting an appropriate amount of time, I texted back and told him I'd had a wonderful day of shopping. He didn't reply which irritated me a bit. I wondered if perhaps I'd completely misjudged his interest in me. It wasn't a pleasant thought. I wanted him to like me even though I really wasn't interested in him as more than a friend. Just because I had no romantic feelings didn't mean I couldn't enjoy a double standard.

Bloody men, always causing problems.

After a quick stop by the grocery store for lunch food, I felt as if I'd managed a somewhat productive day. Even better, I wasn't feeling horribly depressed, nor had I sucked on any desiccated Dove bar sticks.

As I cooked chicken breasts and quinoa for lunch the next day, the door opened and Isabel walked inside, suitcase in hand. A pink bow held her hair in a sideways ponytail, and she wore Pink sweatpants and a hoodie. Without even trying, she looked like a bloody supermodel. Her eyes met mine, and I noticed how sad they looked.

I took in a breath to speak, but paused with uncertainty.

"I'm sorry," she said, a tear trickling down her eye. "You were right. I'm out of control."

I rushed over to her and hugged her, tears gathering in my eyes and spilling down my cheeks. "I'm so sorry, Izzy. You know I love you. I should have kept my big mouth shut."

"No, you were right, Em." She pulled back, wiping tears with the back of her hand. "I'm so stupid with guys. I keep sleeping with them, expecting to find one of them really interesting, but they're like empty shells. They all start looking and sounding the same."

I slumped against the back of the couch. "Well, at least you're not uptight about them like me. I think I'm turning into a man hater."

She laughed. "We are so screwed, aren't we?"

I nodded. "Indeed."

Isabel dug her hand into a bag. "Well, it's a good thing I brought out the big guns then, isn't it?" She produced a large container of Nutella. "You forgive me?"

Despite my misgivings, I laughed, and my mood lightened. "For Nutella I would forgive almost anything." I went and grabbed two spoons. "You forgive me?"

"There's nothing to forgive, Em." She strained with the lid on the Nutella. "Now if only we had a man to open this damned thing."

We burst into giggles.

"Just stand over there, sir, and open our jars for us when we say so," I said.

"And give us back massages," Isabel added.

"Oh dear, that would probably lead to other things," I said.

"Ugh, men!" Isabel set down the jar and tugged off her hoodie, stripping down to a T-shirt. Her bicep bore a nasty yellow-green bruise.

I took her arm and looked at it. "What happened?"

"Oh, nothing. I fell."

"This bruise is in the shape of a finger, Izzy." My stomach felt tight as I looked it over. It was too fresh to have been caused by our first encounter with Stephen, though the slight traces of where he'd bitten her neck remained. It took everything I had to keep painful memories at bay.

She closed her eyes, her head bowing. "Can we start with the Nutella first?"

I laughed despite the anger boiling deep in my belly. "If we can get it open."

A damp rag helped me twist off the cap. "The Devil himself must have tightened the lid on this one in order to torment the poor woman who purchased it."

"
Men
," Isabel said in an exasperated voice.

"With horns."

She giggled. "And tails."

I let Isabel take the first spoonful, and followed right after.

"Mmm." She moaned pleasure. "Oh God, I feel better already."

"It is cathartic, isn't it?" I nibbled at chocolaty goodness on my spoon in an effort not to gobble it all at once.

We were several spoonfuls in when Isabel sighed. "I went to Destin with a guy I met. There were six of us—three guys, three girls. At first it was a lot of fun, but they started doing drugs. The guy I was with, Rex—"

"Whoa, they still name guys Rex?" I said.

She laughed. "I think it was short for something, maybe Tyrannosaurus. Anyway, he insisted I do some coke with them, but I didn't want to. We got in an argument, and he grabbed my arm to keep me from walking away." A tear trickled down her cheek. "Then he hit me in the face. If I hadn't been wearing my hair like this, it probably would have left a bruise."

My fingers tightened on the spoon. "Son of a bitch. Where does he live?"

"He's a rich boy. Lives near Buckhead."

"Let's get some baseball bats and trap him in an alley."

She laughed. "I don't think I could hit someone with a baseball bat."

"But the bastard hit you."

"He was high."

"Don't defend him."

Isabel gave me a tiny smile. "I'm not you, sis. You're brave and vicious. I don't like hurting anything."

"I'm not vicious," I jammed the entire spoonful of heaven in my mouth.

"Like the time you tripped Billy Ferguson and stomped him in the crotch with your high heels after he touched your butt?"

I tried to speak, but my mouth was too full. "Omm!"

Isabel grinned. "Maybe that's why we're opposite when it comes to guys. I let them do what they want, and you beat the shit out of them."

The glob of Nutella finally dissolved enough for me to form words. "In case you don't remember, Billy said he wanted to fuck me up the ass!"