Page 22 of Addicted

CHAPTER 10

DENISE

It was almost eight-thirty, and I was finally eating dinner in Cleo’s studio apartment. I’d spent the rest of my afternoon doing some precursory research on the list that Hugh and I had been sent. I did manage to whittle the list down, but we still had a long way to go. Hugh never replied to my message about working through dinner, so I just stayed on until I couldn’t take the rumbling in my stomach anymore.

Thankfully, it was a Friday. With any luck I’d be sleeping through the entire weekend. That was definitely the plan tonight, the second the rest of this food was in my belly. Cleo’s attention was bouncing from her phone to my arm, her face furious.

We hadn’t said much to each other since this morning. She was upset that I refused to take the day off. I was gladshe wasn’t asking me anything. I didn’t want to talk. I wanted to forget everything, just for tonight.

After I caught her looking for the fifth time, I couldn’t take it anymore, “I’m fine. Eat. Please.”

She shook her head, picked up her fork, and stabbed aggressively at her rice and I figured she was imagining she was stabbing Curtis.

Halfway through my enchiladas, my own phone buzzed on the table. Dread filled me as I saw that it was a text from Curtis. Swiping up, I read the text aloud.

“Keep the apartment. And tell your psycho friends I’ll leave you the fuck alone. Have fun cleaning.”

My heart sank. Cleaning? What did he do?

“Cleo.” She was already standing and pocketing her phone. I looked over at the suitcases tucked behind her couch as she moved around them to grab her shoes.

“Grab your coat, Denny.”

I waited for Cleo, this time, as we abandoned our dinners and made the walk back over to my place. Cleo hooked her arm into mine.

“Whatever it is, we can fix it,” she said.

I nodded.

“And you got some stuff out. So, that’s good.”

I nodded again.

When we made it to my apartment, I saw that the door was open.

“If he’s in here, I’m doing more than macing his ass this time,” Cleo whispered, lifting the canister and her ginormous key ring.

Taking a steeling breath, I pushed open the door and took in a shocked breath. Hugh was sweeping up glass and flower petals surrounded by chaos.

The apartment was wrecked, pillows were slashed open and leaking fluff, food was spread across counters, and the pungent stench of bleach made my eyes water.

An already full trash bag sat to Hugh’s right. And he’d just started filling up another.

“Hey,” he said, broom in hand.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, looking down at remnants of broken glassware.

“Umm, that was maybe on me?” Cleo gave me a weak smile. “Who knew that stalking someone on LinkedIn shows you viewed them?”

“Literally everyone,” I said as Hugh also said, “Everyone.”

Cleo frowned and kept talking. “He called to ask if he could help.” Cleo grabbed the trash bag closest to Hugh and tested its weight. I flinched at the sound of broken glass clinking together.

“I came by to change the locks, but he’d already done a lot of damage, I’m sorry Denise,” Hugh said.

Sniffing, I gave him a shrug. What could I even say? My heart was aching that someone I knew for so long could be so callous. So vindictive and utterly cruel.

“Hey D, I think I speak for Milk Dud over there when I say, we got you and we got this.” She took a long look around the apartment.

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