HOTTIE NEXT DOOR

Arielle's POV

"I'm taking the pink hoodie too."

The sales receptionist, a slim young lady, smiled and stretched out her hand. "Let me take your card."

She swiped it and waited, then swiped it again.

"This isn't working." She kept her voice professionally flat. "You can pay with another card."

"That's not possible." I smiled lightly. "I used this card a few hours ago."

"Let's try it again."

She swiped once more, then shook her head.

I handed her another card. It still declined. My mouth twisted. "There must be a problem somewhere."

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience. I think you should check with your bank. They'll know what the issue is."

I nodded. Behind me, another salesperson was already gathering everything I'd picked. The hoodie, the shoes, the perfume and carrying them back to their positions like I'd never touched them.

I watched for a second, then turned and walked out of the mall with every bit of composure I had left.

I was about to explode and I already had a culprit in mind.

I pulled out my phone and dialed.

"Hello, Dad."

"Hello, Arielle." He paused. "So you finally called. Why did you leave the house without informing me?"

"I'm not a baby, Dad. I just left for three days and you're already fuming."

"What if something terrible happened to you?"

"Nothing is going to happen. You're just being paranoid."

"That's not paranoia. I have to take responsibility for you. I won't let what happened repeat itself."

My grip on the phone tightened. "I'm not Mom."

There was silence.

"That's the main reason I froze your account. Come home, Arielle."

"That's so petty. How could you?" I ended the call before he could say another word.

I stood on the pavement outside, cars sliding past, people brushing by, the whole city completely indifferent.

Fine. If he wanted it that way, I wasn't going back home. Not today. It had been a three-day camping trip. Three days in the woods with friends, fresh air, no phone signal, no drama and I hadn't told him because I already knew what he'd say. 

“Absolutely not. It's not safe out there.”

It was never safe anywhere, according to him. I was twenty-two years old and he still tracked my every move like something was hunting me.

Maybe in his mind, something always was.

I understood why he was the way he was. After what happened to Mom, something in him had broken and never quite healed. She had died when I was fifteen. Torn apart by a werewolf in the woods while he watched, helpless, unable to do a thing. 

He'd gone to the police and told them exactly what he saw, but no one had believed him. Not a single person. And so he'd spent the years since then carrying it alone,terrified that what took her would come for me next.

I didn't blame him for being afraid. But I wasn't going to become a prisoner for it anymore.

The problem was I had no money and nowhere to go.

I pulled out my phone and texted Stella, my best friend who lived abroad.

I'm in a bit of a situation. Lend me some cash, please.

My phone rang almost immediately.

"Hey, babe. Just saw your text. What's up?"

"Long story. Girl, I've got daddy issues. I just need somewhere to stay for a while. I owe you big time."

"I'll help you, love."

I let out a slow breath when the call ended. I'd lodge in a hotel tonight, then go apartment hunting tomorrow. And find something with my name on the lease and no one else's. It had to be done. I couldn't keep floating between hotel rooms and borrowed money. I needed a real plan and a real address. The thought of it settled something in my chest.

Very simple. I almost felt better.

I was nearly asleep when my phone rang. I stared at the ceiling for a moment before reaching for it.

It was David, my boyfriend. I picked up.

"Arielle." His voice was very calm. "You have to come back home. Your dad is very worried about you."

He said your dad. Not I'm worried about you. Not are you okay?

"If he sent you to call me, it isn't working. I'm not coming home anytime soon. It's late. I'm trying to get some sleep."

"Since that's your choice. Good night." He hung up.

I lowered the phone and stared at it.

He hadn't even tried to talk me into coming home. There was no pushback, no real concern.

I could hear in his voice that he'd only called because my father had asked him to. After all, David was the manager of Hunt Group. His loyalty would always run there first.

I set the phone face-down on the nightstand. The hotel room was quiet in that way hotel rooms always were.I pulled the duvet up and looked at the ceiling.

Tomorrow I'd find an apartment. A beautiful one. Somewhere decent. I'd been given everything I had, my whole life spent inside those walls

and maybe that was the problem.

Maybe this was exactly what I needed to find out what I was actually made of when my father's money wasn't doing the work for me.

It was a nice thought and I clung to it.

But something else crept in. The memory of my mother's voice. The way my father's face had looked the morning after it happened. 

He looked chewed out, like something had been taken from behind his eyes and never returned. She was gone and there was nothing either of us could do.

And now I was lying alone in a hotel room, my cards declined, my boyfriend unbothered, my father furious, running away from the only home I'd ever known.

I turned onto my side.

I'm not running, I told myself. I'm choosing what I want. There's a difference.

I just had to keep believing that.