Page 2 of Barbed Wire Hearts

“Yeah, so what?” I spit, following him to the door. “At least I can come when I fuck myself. I never came with you. I faked it! Being alone is clearly a better option.”

The expression on his face is priceless as I slam the door on him. I immediately lock it and slide the deadbolt into place, making sure he can’t come back inside. The pepper spray stays clutched in my hand, but I reach for my phone with the other in case I need to call the cops.

He kicks the door. “Bitch!” When I glance through the peephole, I watch him turn and start descending the stairs. He adjusts his leather jacket as if planning to go on the prowl again, and disappears.

Suddenly needing to make sure my other stash is okay, I rush to my bathroom and pop open the doors beneath the sink. I reach back behind everything to find the cookie tin that holds most of my rainy-day stash. I pop it open and curse to find it as empty as the coffee can.

“Motherfucker!” I snarl, tossing the tin away in frustration. William Shakespurr comes to investigate and upon finding me on the ground, distraught, immediately begins trying to cheer my up by rubbing his tail across my face. “I was such an idiot, William,” I murmur, pulling him onto my lap and hugging him close.

He meows in agreement, but at least he doesn’t judge me too hard. Only with him in my arms do I feel safe enough to cry.

Even if Josh Holiday doesn’t fucking deserve my tears.

That fucking, money-stealing bastard.

ChapterOne

Kate

ONE YEAR LATER

My apartment has changed since I last cried on the bathroom floor over a worthless man. It’s gone from the moody, gothic décor of my dreams to Barbie pink and girly. I’ve accepted that I’m both a gothic temptress and a fairy princess. My two personalities in one. But I’d needed to be surrounded by bright and cheerful things after the Josh incident, even if I mostly dress in a more alternative style. The little neon light of a cat wearing a cowboy hat with the words “Meowdy” around him makes me happy. Just as the bubblegum pink couch does. William Shakespurr definitely enjoys it. His dark grey fur sticks to the back of it in a way I know I’ll curse later when I grow tired of cleaning it with a lint brush, but that’s okay.

“Perfect,” I grunt as I straighten from where I’d been pushing the couch. “This is the arrangement we needed, William.”

I’ve rearranged the living room at least three times after watching a YouTube video about feng shui and the need for furniture to be arranged perfectly. I’d decided on the best arrangement for happiness and now here we are looking like a goth princess in a Barbie Dreamhouse.

I love it.

I take a seat on the couch and kick my feet up, out of breath. The couch is heavy as fuck, but I’d been able to shove it around myself. I don’t need no man to help me. In fact, I’ve sworn off men altogether for a while. It felt good to delete my dating apps. It felt even better to buy this pink couch without anyone questioning it.

Almost on cue with me kicking off my shoes, my phone dings with a text message. I lean over with a groan to the other side of the couch where William sits on it and reach underneath him. “You’re not a chicken, William. The phone isn’t going to hatch treats for your duty,” I tell him. He meows in offense and ambles over to his cat tree instead, also new and pink.

I flip open the messages and stare at the single new message there from an unknown number.

Hey.

Frowning, I reply.

Who’s this?

The little text bubbles pop up as the person starts to type. My phone dings again.

I’m insulted. You deleted my number?

I’ve deleted a lot of numbers over the years, but that doesn’t answer my question at all.

Probably for a good reason. Who is this?

There’s a pause before the bubbles pop back up again. It takes far longer for the answer to come through than before.

It’s Josh.

I narrow my eyes, but don’t immediately jump to conclusions. I’ve known a lot of Joshes.

Josh who?

Christ. It’s Josh Holiday.

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