Boy meets girl, girl falls in love, blah-blah-blah.
Let me be clear with you from the beginning. This is not that kind of story.
My name is Cait, and I live in the great city of New York. Okay, so maybe I've only lived here for a week and a half...
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"Danielle," I breathed, frozen in the spot where I stood.
She sat in an armchair situated between us and the door, meaning there was no way we'd be able to run past her to escape. There were two of us, which meant we could overpower her if necessary, but I was too stunned to think of anything coherent except shit shit shitshitshit.
"What are you doing in my apartment?" Danielle asked calmly. "You do know this is breaking and entering. I could have you arrested for this."
"We saw the photos," I countered, grasping at straws for some kind of leverage against her. "I'm going to tell the police, so - by all means - call them. Saves me a trip to the station."
Danielle uncrossed her legs, leaning forward to switch on a lamp, and smiled menacingly as soon as the small source of light flooded the room. Her iPhone was in her hand, perfectly manicured fingers gripping the light pink case tightly, and she lifted it in the air to take a photo of us.
"For my collection," she explained. "Although I'm not really sure Lincoln will like the whole 'criminal chic' look."
I frowned, "I'm going to tell him the truth."
"Good luck with that," Danielle laughed, the melodic sound fluttering through the air in sharp contrast with the sick person she was. "I highly doubt he - or anyone, for that matter - will believe you, an alcoholic failure, over me. Especially given the evidence."
She shook her phone at the last sentence, smiling happily as she tapped on the screen and showed us the photo.
"See?" She said. "You two look absolutely perfect for the front page of US Weekly. I can practically see the headlines now. 'Lincoln Shepherd's Ex Arrested. Poor Mental Health To Blame?'"
Val practically growled behind me, and I grabbed her arm to keep her from doing something stupid.
"You're a psycho bitch, you know that?" Val spat out. "We saw all of those photos in your closet. You've been stalking Lincoln and blackmailing Cait. That's all the evidence we need."
Danielle tiled her head to one side, "Evidence of what? By the time the police get here, it'll all be gone. It'll be your word against mine and - I'm sorry sweetheart - but you aren't really in a position to gamble."
She stood, tucking her phone in the back pocket of her jeans, and revealed the small handgun that she was gripping with her other hand. Val's eyes grew wide in shock, and we both took a step back as Danielle brandished the firearm in the air.
"After all, it was all just self-defense," she said, the corner of her mouth pulling up in a twisted smile.
"Oh my god, are you fucking serious?" Val cried as I tried to pull her behind me.
I lifted my hands into the air, one hand still gripping my cell phone.
"You don't want to do this Danielle," I said softly. "Just put the gun down. Nobody has to get hurt."
