Page 24 of Reckless

Bring it on! The monster screamed just as a face pushed through the crowd, punching my attacker square in the head, dark hair and a scowl that could murder innocent kittens flashed before me.

Tristan.

It was the last thing I thought before my attacker punched me hard across the temple.

And then I didn't think about anything at all.

Chapter 8

Rose

I could not wait until I could quit my job.

Seriously, where was the two-week notice form and tickets to the Bahamas because I was not cut out for this life.

I had ended up with the eight-hour shift. That's eight hours of obeying Morise's every command. Eight hours. And let me tell you, Morise really liked to work a girl into the ground. Especially when she thought the girl in question was a slacker loner who liked to show up late to her job (I was late once. Once!).

And while books were my friends, shelving them for eight consecutive hours, not to mention dealing with customers was not exactly my idea of living the dream. But the bills had to be paid, and between my mom's hospital bills and Uncle John's artistic threats (art supplies are unfortunately more expensive than the air I breathe), I was basically chained to this job until I died.

Which according to my calculations wouldn't even be that long if Uncle John and his threats had anything to do with it. There was also the teensy little fact that I hadn't started any of the paintings yet. Instead, I had stared at the canvas for more hours than I could count last night praying for the art gods to bless me.

And still nothing.

Clocking out of work, I quickly logged my hours into the store computer before grabbing my leather backpack and slinging it over my shoulders.

Time to get the hell out of here.

Opening the door, I nodded a quick farewell to Morise, who gave me a half-assed backwards wave in return, mumbling something about shipping delays and how workers never seemed to be able to do their jobs nowadays.

It was practically dark out now, the sun having disappeared behind a storm cloud, but I was glad for the darkness. Night was my happy place. It was where I could thrive. Where I could think. It was quiet then. A time for just me, my demons, and a heavily used paintbrush to come alive. Squeeze out my creative juice like an apple that's been smashed by a semi.

I just hoped my dreams weren’t too crushed beyond repair.

Pushing my dark thoughts aside, I picked up the pace, my heeled black combat boots eating up the city streets. The bookshop was only a few blocks over from where I lived so I usually just walked. But I didn't mind, I liked walking, it made me feel as if I had some semblance of control over my life. Even if it was only for a moment.

Wow, it was sad how little control I had over my own world.

Shoving that depressing thought aside, I made my way across the street. I was on the last block before my apartment, and if I squinted hard enough, I could just make out the dilapidated Chinese building in the distance.

Ahhome sweet home, I thought bitterly.

Damn building was the bane of my existence. Seriously, I couldn't wait until I got out of that apartment, even if a part of me did love it. A stupid, very irrational part of me that needed Mai Tais and phone therapy.

Preferably in that order.

Sighing, I made my way across the crowded intersection. Why does New York have to have so many people all the time? I was starting to sweat from the press of bodies and on top of that I was already regretting wearing the heels, seeing as I now had a matching set of blisters on my ankles. A body pushed into me, and I swore under my breath as a red Ferrari nearly made me his roadkill for the day.

“Hey watch where you're going! Are you trying to get a girl killed?” I practically screamed at them. I was not in the mood tonight. The last thing I needed was some rich prick with an attitude heavier than my baggage mucking up my evening. Even if said rich prick happened to be wearing nothing but - Wait are those turquoise swim trunks? With little pink flamingos all over them?

Wait a minute, it was New York, better not to question it. Seriously, the level of crazy in this city was enough to drive a girl cuckoo for coco puffs.

Soooo why was he getting out of his car right now?

In the middle of an intersection?

In NEW YORK!

Sure enough, I watched, mouth hanging open, as the dude literally put his Ferrari in park smack in the middle of the road, then started jogging in my direction like life's an episode of Baywatch. The dude was only about three steps away from me and He. Was. Jogging.

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