Page 3 of Barbed Wire Hearts

My face twists with immediate disgust.

Ew. No.

I shoot the reply quickly before immediately blocking the number and tossing the phone back on the couch. I have no idea what he wants, but I’m certainly not falling for that act again. I want nothing to do with that asshole.

My phone starts to ring, and I stare at the new number flashing across the screen. Something tells me not to answer, so I let it ring and ring until it goes to voicemail. A minute later, it beeps to let me know there’s a new voice message. Slowly, I reach for it and press the notification, waiting as my voicemail box goes through its whole “put in your password” spiel before it finally lets me into the messages.

“You have one unheard message. First unheard message.Hey Kate. I know you don’t want to hear from me, but I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately. I wanted to see if you’re still around in the area and if you’d meet with me. My treat. Call me back please. And unblock the other number. To delete this message, press—” I tap a button. “Message deleted.” I block the second number for good measure.

“Fuck you,” I say as I toss the phone back on the couch.

I assume that’s the end of it. Two blocked numbers and a clear indication that I want nothing to do with him should be enough. It turns out, I’m completely wrong. Aren’t we always? I think, as women, we like to give men the benefit of the doubt. I also think, collectively, we should stop doing that and just follow our instincts from the get go. Tell them they didn’t make you come. Tell them you have no interest in them. Stab them in the eye if they won’t take no. Or the balls. Men really cherish their balls.

A couple of days after that damn text, I’m walking into the grocery store to gather what I need for the week. My mind is on the mint chocolate chip ice cream I’m going to buy, so I don’t immediately notice him until he’s stepping in front of my cart. I slam to a stop to avoid hitting the man.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t see you—” I’d been about to apologize to the random stranger I’d nearly taken out, but my words cut off when I see Josh standing in front of me, a smug smile on his face. He looks different, older somehow, even though it’s only been a year. There are more wrinkles around his eyes and his lips, as if he’s aged ten years since I last saw him. My own face twists with a scowl. “Move.”

“Kate, I need to talk to you,” he says, his eyes glancing to the side as if he’s looking for someone.

I follow his gaze, but there’s nothing there. “Leave me the fuck alone. I want nothing to do with you. I thought you’d get that message when I blocked your number.”

“Yeah, but I need to talk to you?—”

“About what?” I snarl. “The three thousand dollars you stole from me? Are you here to pay me back?”

He winces. “No, it’s not about that.”

“Then I have nothing to talk to you about,” I hiss before pushing the cart against him, forcing him to move.

He’s relatively harmless. Josh Holiday may be many things—sniveling rat, thief, cheater—but he’s never once laid his hands on me. He knows it for the mistake it is. I’d absolutely beat the shit out of him if he ever thought to lay a hand on me. He’s not a big man, and I’m five feet of fury when I’m pissed. Plus, I’ve been doing yoga. I’m more limber now.

“I’m in some trouble—” he starts as he tries to follow me.

“I don’t give a shit about your trouble.”

“I need to borrow some money?—’

I stop so quickly, he runs into me and immediately stumbles back. “I know you did not just say that.”

“I know I have no right to ask,” he replies. “But I’m desperate, and I know you’re good with your money, so you probably have a lot saved up?—”

I stare at him, at the way he twitches, and his eyes flick to the side like he’s terrified someone will appear and shoot him. What the actual fuck has this idiot gotten himself into?

“None of that’s my problem,” I interrupt his long-winded excuse. “You have nothing if not audacity, Josh Holiday. I’ll give you that.”

“Please! You don’t understand!” He reaches for my arm, and I jerk away which catches the attention of other shoppers. A few people stop and take a step closer in case they need to intervene. Josh notices them and immediately holds up his hands, but it doesn’t stop him from talking. “You’re going to regret not helping me, Kate.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, but a big burly man steps between us before he can answer.

“Is there a problem here?” the man asks, making sure to protect me in case Josh launches himself at me.

Josh backs away. “No, no problem.” He looks pointedly at me before turning and leaving the grocery story altogether.

“You okay?” the man asks once he’s gone. I notice the nametag on his chest, the one claiming he’s the manager. “You need someone to walk you back to your car?”

“That would be great. Thank you,” I sigh. I grab my groceries in record time and gratefully thank him when he helps me load my car and makes sure I’m in it safely with the doors locked before he goes back inside. I’m definitely giving this store a five-star review. Their service is amazing.

When I get back to my apartment, I stare up at the flight of stairs, my skin beginning to crawl. One of the lights is out, throwing a bit of the staircase into darkness. I’ve called in the maintenance order a few times but apparently, they hadn’t gotten to it today. I consider calling my neighbor to ask if he can walk me up the stairs but decide that’s probably silly. Josh is harmless if not persistent.

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