A Double Dose of Billionaire - Part 4

I wiped my face with my tissue. “Much. Thanks for letting me bawl to you in the car. It really helped.” I told her most of what had happened. How perfect things seemed, and our little quarrels. I skipped through the racy bits, filling them up with some white lies, replacing the stories of physical abuse with emotional ones and leaving things vague. She didn’t press much. Instead, she acted as a listener. She knew she didn’t have to keep talking. She only had to let me get my frustrations out.

“You ought to be thankful,” she joked. “Half the tissues in my box are gone.”

I rolled my eyes and grinned. “Sorry about that.” As I took out my keys, Kristie got a call.

She picked it up within the third ring. “Hey, what’s up? Oh… okay. I don’t know.”

“Who is it?” I mouthed.

Covering the phone’s mouthpiece, she whispered, “Keith.”

Keith was Kristie’s new boyfriend. They got hooked up back when I had just met the twins, and from what I’d heard, their relationship was hitting off better than a home run.

She continued talking to him as I awkwardly stood at the doorway with my keys, wondering whether I should open the door or not. As she hung up the call, she flashed me a guilty look. “So…”

“You need to go.” And there was the evil Luck God again, raining down on my parade.

“Yeah, Keith forgot his house keys and he needs me there to open the door for him.”

My jaw dropped slightly. “The both of you have already moved in together? Since when?”

Cringing, she backed away and fiddled with her fingers. “Kind of. I stay at his place sometimes. I’ve got his spare keys.”

“Oh.” I tried to shrug Kristie’s departure off. Her presence helped to calm my nerves, but I couldn’t get too dependent. “I guess that can’t be helped. I’ll see you around?”

“Work has been busy lately. Being Deputy Director isn’t as awesome as it sounds.” The twins managed to get Kristie promoted a few weeks back, right before I found out I was pregnant. She chewed her lower lip. “I might not be free til this weekend.”

“It’s fine. I’ll handle myself.” Not.

Kristie flashed me a mocking smirk. “Sure, I believe you. You’re the worst at handling breakups. Call me when you need someone to talk to, okay? Meetings can wait.”

“I’m not that bad at handling breakups.”

“That guy before Damien. What was his name?”

Darn. That was a one-time incident. I didn’t like her bringing that up. “Brad.”

“I had to get you out of his apartment after you hit him and nearly knocked his door down.”

I grinned playfully. “Hey, I kicked the shit out of him.”

“A black eye doesn’t mean that you did.”

“Good enough.”

“Well, if anything pops up, call me.”

“Whatever.”

She glared at me.

“Okay, okay, I will.”

“Good, now take care of yourself. Don’t be stupid.”

Why was Kristie starting to sound like my mother? “I will.”

“Yep, I still don’t believe you.”

My shoulders sagged as I watched my best friend walk down the corridor and turn the corner. She left me all by myself again. Time to wallow in my self-pity and overdose on smoothies. Maybe I could watch another movie, or play some online poker, embracing more self-destructive behavior. I thought about my losses today and decided against it. I’d be avoiding poker for a long time.

I turned the door knob and stepped into my apartment. Oddly, my lights were on. Did I forget to turn them off?

Rubbing my eyes, I set my keys onto the counter. As I whipped my head around, I caught sight of somebody I hated. Really hated.

Kelly, the girl who Damien cheated on me with, was sitting on my sofa. She wasn’t doing anything else but look at me with a smug expression, her head tilted up in a challenge.

“Why the hell are you in my apartment, you bitc—”

Before I finished my sentence, something was thrown over my head—a sack, presumably. It blocked my vision, effectively blinding me. My as**saulter wrapped his or her filthy hands around my waist.

A hard object smashed against my skull. I heard a faint clank sound before blacking out.

When I came to, the most painful headache I’d ever had was pounding in my ears. I groaned. My hands were tied behind a chair by some coarse ropes. The ropes had begun to bite and tear into my skin. I recognized the place. I was still in the same apartment. My apartment. I had always felt safest in my own home. It never crossed my mind that I’d be ambushed there.

My cloudy vision cleared. The man standing at the other corner of the living room became recognizable.