Page 16 of The Catalyst

I nod as my jaw tightens. “Yup. He died ten months ago. Brain aneurysm.”

Moving my gaze to his, I see the understanding there, something I can’t handle. I don’t want him to get me on any level. The last person I let in that far died in my arms and I can’t risk anyone hurting me like that again.

It was hard when Shawn died. I had no one who understood. He had his bandmates, but they weren’t his friends. He was a loner, an orphan, and I was all he had. I thought it was love with Shawn, but now that time has passed, I realize it wasn’t. He was a good friend I had feelings for and a healthy sex life with. That’s the best way to describe what we had. It wasn’t beautiful and precious, but it was ours, and that’s what gave it meaning. Our relationship was one of the first things in my life I ever did for myself. I didn’t date him because my mom wanted me to or to please my family. I did it because I wanted him.

Now, he’s gone, and the man that resides in my bed scares the shit out of me.

Oh, how the tides have changed.

CHAPTER 8

BETH

"Bethany!" My mother screams my name from the living room and I drop my pen on my notebook before standing up.

"Coming," I respond quickly, sighing. Even though I hear the buzzing of my phone, I leave it behind, knowing it's either Nigel or Judy. For one, I didn't give Nigel my number. I adamantly refused to give it to him so what did the prick do? He stole my phone and texted himself from it so he would have it. I tried blocking his number, but that just led to him breaking into my room and unblocking himself. I've tried three fucking times. After the last time, I gave up. I also ignore ninety percent of the texts and calls I get from him, but that doesn't stop him from sending them.

When the hell will he give up?

"What's up?" I ask, hugging my sweater around my body.

She gives me a rare smile before pulling her car keys out of her pocket. "Would you be a dear and take my car for an oil change and new tires? I'd do it but I'm so tired from work today. I desperately need a nap and a hot bath."

Translation: I need to get drunk and pass out in a pool of my own vomit.

I nod and take her keys. "Sure. No problem."

All refusing does is piss her off and I've barely recovered from the last time she slapped me. I don't need a new one.

"Thank you, baby." She grins and practically skips to the kitchen. I roll my eyes and grab my wallet off of the table in the entryway before heading out to her car.

I don't need this shit, but these are the cards I've been dealt. I have an alcoholic mother, a psycho stalker, and a new bestie stuck on dating my stalker's friend.

Oh joy.

* * *

I pullup to the mechanic shop a few lights away from our neighborhood and climb out, holding my wallet and the car keys. I should've stopped for some food before coming here, but I can always do that after they finish up with her car.

I pull open the front door of the rundown shop before walking inside. However, I freeze when my gaze snags on the massive man next to the desk wearing a mechanic's get-up and I recognize him instantly.

The town psychopath himself. What did Judy say his name was? Oliver?

I left the house and purposefully left my phone behind to have a reprieve from Nigel and his overbearing bullshit and I run into one of his fucking friends.

Fuck my life.

I walk up to the desk, feeling the psycho's eyes burning a hole in my temple, as I talk to the receptionist.

"Hi. I need to get an oil change and new tires if possible," I say as sweetly as I possibly can. Sometimes it's hard to drop the "preacher's daughter" facade everyone has to see who isn't directly involved in my life.

"Sure—" the receptionist starts but she's quickly cut off.

"Your business isn't welcome here."

My body stiffens when I hear his voice, that thick and deep yet velvety smooth tone I distinctly remember from the night of the party. Though my mind knows to stay the fuck away from that psycho, my body hasn't gotten the message that he is The Bad News Bear. Every inch of me reacts to everything from his size, his voice, to his smell.

It's different from the way I react to Nigel or anyone else. It's potent, toxic and lethal.

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