Page 89 of Lucy and Her Wicked Three

"What. The. Fuck."

I don't know why I expected her to scramble, to at least move, when I snap at her, voice dripping in venom, but she does neither.

"What the fuck are you doing? Put your goddamn clothes on."

As much as I don't want to leave her alone in my bedroom, I just cannot with this shit right now. Turning on my heel I storm back out of my bedroom, but she finally moves and chases after me, her tiny boobs bouncing as she runs and collides into me.

I try to get her off but she clings to me like static, spidery and quick, fingers latching on to my shoulders and arms.

"Wait, Mateo, wait, hear me out."

"What the hell are you doing? Getoffme!" I try to hold her back but she keeps grabbing. One hand goes for my dick, but I knee her out of the way before she can touch me, accidentally nailing her in the stomach.

I almost apologize, but then she tries it again.

"Stop, what the fuck, get off me! Put your goddamn clothes on and get the fuck out of my apartment."

"But Mateo, you just need to—"

"I don't need to do shit."

"But I love you!" She squeals, then finally lets go, taking a step back, tears streaming down her face. She's blotchy and wild andangry. "I'm in love with you. I met you first! She doesn't deserve you!"

I put my hands up placatingly. "Look, Karen—"

"It's CARA!" She screeches.

"Okay, okay, Cara. Look, I don't know what you think or what's going on here—"

"I met you first! I was there at the bar the night you met. I asked Lucy if she wanted to grab drinks and she said she made plans so I went to our favorite spot, anyway. We had a connection. You bought me a drink, remember? You looked at me and it was like yousawme."

"Lady, I didn't buy you shit. I probably sound like an asshole admitting this, but I've not bought anyone but Lucy a drink in years."

"You did! You were sitting there working, and your asshole coworker kept annoying you and nudging your shoulder. That slutty bartender was trying to get your attention, but then you looked up and it was like everything fell away and it was just us."

What?I have absolutely no idea what she's talking about.

But as she retells the story, she gets this dreamy look on her face, and I realize—Idoremember her. She moves her body, running her hands over her tits, one sliding between her legs.

"Jesus fucking Christ, stop. Just stop. I remember you." I grip her hand, but she moans, so I let go just as quickly and throw my hands up in exasperation. "I didn't buy you a fucking drink, my coworker did. I remember him trying to nail the bartender, then you, then someone else. Sending the martini over to you didn't work, obviously. You thought it was from me. It wasn't."

She stops touching herself, but I'm warring between wanting to pick her up and toss her skinny ass outside, butt-naked or not, and calling the cops. Or Lucy and the guys. They said they'd be here soon.

Shit, no, they didn't say that.Shedid.

"Look, Karen—"

"IT'S CARA!"

"What the fuck ever, you delusional fucking psycho! I didn't buy you a drink. There was no moment. If I glanced up and looked at you, I was lookingthroughyou. I can't believe I remember you in all honesty, and I've seen you with Lucy how many times over the last eight months? You're not even a fucking blip on my radar. Now put your fucking clothes on and get the fuck out of my apartment."

I finish the tirade with a tired huff, but then she screams like a banshee and jumps on top of me. The force of her jump throws me back and then she tears at my shirt, the buttons popping open.

In hindsight, this is the moment I should have understood, but I was too busy shoving her off. Having had about enough, I flip us over, pinning her legs down with my knees, my hands at her wrists.

"Oh god, yes, I knew you would be like this," she pants, still squirming and moaning.

I snarl, wanting to wring her damn neck, but another voice pulls me out of it.

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