Pursing her lips, she shakes her head. “I went in to drop something off. I wasn’t there drinking.”
“Whatever. And even if you’re not lying, how long will that last?” I spit her name out in disgust, practically choking on the words. “Seriously. When we were together, I had to fight with you every day to keep you out of the bars because you were draining my bank account. Every time I turned around, you were buying shots for the bar. Fuck. If I had been counting on you to actually pay the rent that we agreed on, I’d have lost my house.”
Her fingers are gripping the steering wheel and the wrinkles around her mouth are getting more pronounced. When she speaks, she measures out each word in an attempt to sound as though she’s not losing her cool. “If we’re going to start making a laundry list of our past transgressions, give me a second to compile yours.”
“It would take more than a second, I’m sure.” Trying to diffuse the situation, I resort to joking, as usual.
She allows a fleeting smile to cross her mouth. “Well, we both know you’re perfect.”
“Perfectly awesome,” I grin. “It’s hard to be me sometimes.”
“Indeed.”
“So, are you going to loan me the money?”
Slipping my hand into the door handle, I am halfway out of the car before she reaches out to grab me. I manage to yank my hand out of her reach. “No, I’m not. I don’t have the kind of income that allows me to just throw money away. Giving money to you would be dumb. Giving money to you and expecting repayment would be beyond stupidity.”
She makes another grab for my hand, but misses again. “Dammit, Dana. I’m in a lot of trouble here. I’m going to end up homeless.”
“Oh come on. I’m sure you have enough friends that you can find a couch to sleep on.”
“Mandy won’t be anxious to share someone’s couch.”
“Oh, I’m sure Mandy will not have any trouble finding a place to live if you get kicked out of your apartment.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
I glance back into the car and for a brief second, I’m tempted to tell her what I saw on the dance floor. It’s really none of my business and I don’t owe her anything. Slamming the door without answering, I take a few quick steps toward the sidewalk, listening for her car door. I don’t want to look back and give her the satisfaction of knowing that she’s rattled me. Walking down the street, I hear her engine directly behind me. There’s no traffic, so she can keep pace with me as long as she wants. Yet again, I almost wish I had a car. She’s staying out of my peripheral vision, but I can hear the vehicle. I can cut across to the busier market street, but to do so, I have to cross in front of her. If I take a turn up one of the next alleys, I’ll end up in a more secluded and seedier section of town. My ex revs the engine a bit, just in case I didn’t know she was there. I’m trying to present a nonchalant stance because I don’t want to let her know that she’s getting to me. This is her M.O., pushing and pushing until she gets her way. I’m not afraid of her, but her intimidation tactics can be a little unnerving. I don’t know who would win in a fair fight, but I’m not willing to try to figure it out. I’m a lover, not a fighter and she’s got all of that suppressed rage on her side. Continuing to walk at a brisk, but not rushed pace, I weigh my options. I could duck into one of these businesses in the hope that she would get bored and leave. If I did that, she would know that she’s freaked me out. If she decided to wait me out, I’d be stuck in the store. I’m saved from making the decision by the ring of my cell phone. Fumbling it out of my pocket, I’m relieved to see Sam on the display.
“Dude.”
“What’s up?”
“I’m walking down Magnolia being somewhat slowly chased by my ex-girlfriend.”
“Near what?”
“That scary bar where the prostitutes hang out on Saturdays.”
“I’m on Steel. See you in less than ten minutes.” She hangs up and I toss the phone back into my pocket. Sam will be coming from the other direction, so I need to get across the street. Voldemort is still pacing me. Some panicked voice inside of me is telling me that she wants to kill me. This is ridiculous. It’s broad daylight. Yet, every time I think about crossing the street, I see a vision of myself flipping over her hood. I’d be worried she was going to kidnap me and break my legs in the fashion of “Misery,” but since she’s about to be evicted, I can’t imagine where she’d keep me. Still, I can see her standing over my bed with a hammer. I’m starting to freak myself out.