Burning Moth

Chapter Eight, Part One - Cruel Intentions

With Jacob overcrowding his stay, and Aidan overcrowding himself with Jacob, I used every excuse to leave the apartment. I couldn't stand Aidan fawning over Jacob's endless stories about hustling money for commissary, and making homemade tamales from wet chips and picante sauce any more than I could suffer being alone in my room, moping to Cold Play. It was during idles hours that my thoughts were most diligent.

Like ghosts, memories of Nicholias and Savannah plagued me. Two weeks of cohabitation with one, in which we constantly discussed the other, left me hollow as Savannah's empty grave. Nicholias, Aidan, and I knew we had an obligation to make things square... yet none of us knew how to break the circle.

If we chose to involve the police, we would all go down for something–but not necessarily murder. No body, no evidence, no justice–and wasn't that the goal? For now, all we could do was twiddle our thumbs and wait for someone else to make the next.

Or discover the body.

In the meantime, there were plenty of pastimes to keep me entertained–including Troy.

I kept telling myself I would stop messing with him, for his sake, but every time Troy came around with those puppy dog eyes, crying about Keiko and his family, my panties hit the floor. Desperate as it sounded, knocking boots with Troy was the only time my mind was ever from Nicholias.

Guess I needed release as much as Troy did.

"And will that be paper or plastic, sir?" I smiled, currently awaiting release from my shift. My feet were screaming and the customer before me had a resting bitch face, with breath that smelled like onions.

It had been a slow night at the Food Circus, but the customers who walked their carts down my aisle still came at a steady trickle. I bagged up groceries for the guy with B.O., then flipped off the light above my stall. Just as I was about to remove my apron, a stranger sidled up to the conveyor, unloading his wine, cheese, and apples.

What the fuck--is this guy a hobbit?

"Sorry, is your line closed?" asked the stranger.

I held Captain Obvious at bay, refusing to roll my eyes at the overtness of that answer.

What the hell. One more customer for the road.

"No worries, you're totally fine." I grabbed his merchandise and began scanning, avoiding my usual niceties. Too much eye contact and they got chatty. "Savings card?"

He ignored my question. "Hey, aren't you that girl? From the gala? Chloe's friend?"

My gaze snapped to his.

Pale...

Dark hair...

Eyes way too big for his face...

Well waddaya know. It was Chloe's go-to guy, the clown who had snuck us into the mansion the night of the gala.

"Yep, Sasha--tha-a-a-a-at's me. Nice to see you again... buddy." I clicked my tongue twice, thanking every lucky star he hadn't seen the name tag pinned to my apron. "Your total is... $36.17. Cash or credit?"

He dug in his wallet, handing me his card–Lorenzo Martin.

Oh. So that was his name.

"Have you seen Chloe lately?" he said, shifting in a leather jacket that hung from his awkward frame like loose skin. "I'm just wondering cuz' she's kind of iced me out. My birthday's coming up, and... I was hoping she'd let me take her out on a date. Maybe the non-paying kind..."

I coughed, just so I wouldn't laugh at the poor bastard.

I knew Chloe better than Lorenzo ever would, and there was no way in hell she would do him for free–not even if Miss Hannigan threw in Ian Somerhalder as a rebate.

But he didn't have to know that...

"You know the key to any girl's heart, Zo?" I smiled. "Plant life. Put on a tie and bring her some flowers--she'll never say no."

"Really?" Lorenzo stared, waiting for the punchline. "U-h-h-h, I dunno..."

Code red, code red!

We're losing him!

"Oh, guaranteed. Listen, Chloe would probably kill me for telling you this, but she actually thinks you're kinda cute. She's just, um, ashamed to admit it because of her--our--profession. Uh... you intimidate her."

I was going to hell, and taking Chloe with me.

"Really?" he said. "That's strange. You know, she once called me an effeminate monkey."

I coughed harder, fighting a mad case of the giggles. "Um, that's just her way. She's... like... a cuddly little cactus! But trust me...Chloe likes you."

Lorenzo's eyes illuminated, like ugly paper sails. If he were a cartoon character, his tongue would've wagged, with giant red hearts beating in his eyes.

There was nothing like preying on young, unrequited love–revenge, in a gift box.

Nevertheless, Chloe would enjoy stomping on Lorenzo as much as I enjoyed sending him to his doom. If being a silent jerk-face was the way Chloe wanted to play things, then I'd be damned if I were the only one she snubbed.

"By the way," I said, "roses are Chloe's favorite, and she really likes Belgian chocolate. Have a nice night..." I handed him his bag, waving a coy good-bye.

He smiled back, but only because he believed me.

Sucker.

* * *

I SO LOVE LILY ALLEN! SHEEZUS FOR PRESIDENT LOL Seriously, I'm pretty sure she wrote this song specifically for me.

Yeah, she totally did.

Don't believe me? Well, comment and vote anyway : p

Pwetty pwease?

XOXO