Chapter 8

8

The fluorescent lights of the grocery store buzzed overhead, casting a sterile glow over the aisles lined with neatly stacked goods. I navigated the cart with practiced ease, my movements sharp and purposeful. The rhythmic clatter of the wheels against the linoleum floor was a small comfort, a distraction from the tension that had been building in my life.

My tattoos, intricate and bold, drew curious glances from other shoppers. They were more than just art—they were part of my story, my way of reclaiming my identity. But today, it seemed they had attracted more attention than usual, and not the kind I welcomed.

"Hey there," a voice broke through the monotony of the store's background noise. I turned to see a man in his mid-thirties with an expression that hinted at casual interest. His gaze lingered on my tattoos with a mix of admiration and something more disquieting .

"Hi," I said, offering a polite but uninviting smile. "Can I help you with something?"

"I couldn't help but notice your tattoos," he said, leaning slightly closer making me want to recoil. "They're pretty amazing. I've got a thing for unique ink. Ever thought about showing them off somewhere more exclusive?"

I stiffened, the same old line playing out once again. "Thanks for the compliment, but I'm just here to get groceries."

Why did guys think this move worked? Did they really believe that throwing out a cheesy pickup line in the produce aisle was the way to a girl's heart? I mean, sure, I appreciated the compliment, but I was clearly focused on my shopping, not on finding a date.

He didn't take the hint. "I'm Jason. Maybe we could grab a coffee sometime? I'd love to hear more about them."

My mind raced while I decided on how to respond. Did he really think I'd just drop everything for a cup of coffee with a guy I didn't know, one with mediocre pick up lines? I glanced at the oranges I was holding, half-expecting them to offer me better advice than this guy.

My patience was wearing thin. "I'm not interested. Please, let me finish my shopping."

Jason's smile faltered but didn't disappear. "Come on, it's just coffee. No harm in that."

I could feel irritation bubbling just beneath the surface. "I said no," I replied firmly, putting the oranges down to look at apples instead. The crispness of the fruit was comforting, a reminder of the mundane task at hand.

As I focused on selecting the perfect apple, I felt his gaze linger, the air thick with an uncomfortable tension. Why couldn't he take the hint? It was as if my disinterest only fueled his determination. I could almost hear the internal dialogue of my friends in my head, reminding me to stand my ground and establish dominance in the midst of predators.

"Please stop," I added, trying to keep my tone steady. I could sense the eyes of other shoppers drifting toward us, and I felt a mix of embarrassment and frustration. This wasn't a romantic movie; I didn't need a persistent suitor in the middle of the grocery store.

"Isn't it just a little flattering?" he pressed, a hint of stubbornness creeping into his voice.

I sighed inwardly. Flattering? Maybe if I were in the mood for a romantic comedy. But right now, I was just trying to navigate the produce aisle without feeling like I was stuck in a scene I didn't want to play out.

"Not really," I said, glancing at him again, my resolve strengthening. "I appreciate the gesture, but I'm really just here for groceries. Can we please leave it at that?"

Jason's persistence was beginning to annoy me. I could feel his eyes lingering on me, and it was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. I finished up my shopping as quickly as I could, trying to ignore his presence. When I headed toward the checkout, I noticed Jason following a few paces behind me.

The checkout process felt like it dragged on forever. I kept my eyes on the conveyor belt, pretending to be absorbed in the mundane task of unloading my cart. My senses were on high alert, the uncomfortable feeling of being watched lingering while I gathered my bags.

Finally, I pushed my cart to the car and began loading the groceries into the trunk of my sedan. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jason approaching again, his demeanor more insistent.

Growing up with street smarts had sharpened my instincts, and now, those red flags were waving harder than ever. I could feel a knot tightening in my stomach as he closed the distance. The knife I kept in my boot felt heavier than usual, a reminder that I had learned to protect myself in more ways than one.

"Hey, wait a second!" he called, his voice edging on urgency.

I forced myself to stay calm, focusing on the task at hand. "What do you want?" I replied, trying to keep my tone steady while my heart raced.

"Just a minute of your time," he said, his smile faltering but still present. "I promise I'm not a creep or anything."

That statement alone made my instincts scream. The very fact that he felt the need to assure me of his innocence only confirmed my suspicions. "I really don't have time for this," I shot back, my patience wearing thin.

As I turned to face him fully, I could see the determination in his eyes, and I felt a surge of adrenaline. I took a step back, subtly adjusting my stance to make the knife more accessible. "I said no," I repeated firmly, trying to project confidence while my inner voice urged me to be ready for anything.

Jason's expression darkened. "Why are you being like this? Just talk to me."

He stepped closer, his body language becoming more threatening. I could feel a surge of adrenaline while I assessed the situation. I was well-acquainted with the realities of self-defense, and I had no intention of being intimidated.

I took a step back, my eyes locked on his, giving him one last chance before I shanked him where the sun didn't shine. "If you don't back off, I'll call the police."

He laughed, but there was no humor in it. "You think I'm afraid of the police?"

I took a deep breath, mentally shifting into a defensive stance. I was ready to use the moves I'd learned from the streets, and I wasn't about to let him push me around. I subtly shifted my weight, positioning myself for a quick reaction if necessary.

"Fine," I said, my voice low and resolute. "I'm warning you, don't test me."

Jason took another step forward, his eyes narrowing. "You think you can just?—"

Before he could finish, I grabbed the edge of the shopping cart and maneuvered it between us, using it as a barrier. I pushed the cart forward, creating distance and giving myself time to reach for my phone instead of my blade because I was a law abiding citizen like that. Actually, I really didn't want this to reach my aging parents and see the disappointment in their eyes. I had already faced their accusations when I got my first tattoo, with their dramatics about how I was throwing my life away by joining a gang. I wasn't. They just couldn't grasp why anyone would willingly mark their skin like that.

"Don't come any closer," I said, my voice steady and firm. "Or I'll have to hurt you."

Jason's eyes widened with a mixture of surprise and anger. He hesitated for a moment, then turned and walked away, his frustration evident in his stride. I watched him until he disappeared around the corner of the parking lot, my heart still racing from the encounter.

Growing up in a dilapidated neighborhood had trained me to recognize the type—sleazy men who thought persistence equated to charm. I could still recall countless moments where guys like him would approach me while I was in my teens, their bravado masking a lack of respect. Those memories flooded back, reminding me why I had learned to keep my guard up.

As I finished loading my groceries, I shook off the encounter, but the adrenaline lingered. I reminded myself that I was stronger than I once was. I wouldn't let anyone—especially not someone like Jason whats-his-face who probably grew up privileged and has a kink for exotic women—make me feel vulnerable.

As I double checked the items in my trunk before locking it shut, preparing to leave, a sleek, racing car pulled into the parking lot with a growl of a familiar engine.

"Please don't let it be him. Please don't let it be him," I muttered in exasperation. There were only a few cars around here with that specific roar.

Looking over my shoulder, my heart sank when I saw the car's unmistakable design: a low, aggressive-looking import with tinted windows.

The dark, sleek vehicle with a lowered body kit glided to a stop near my car, and the driver's side window rolled down, revealing a face I'd hoped never to see again. My ex, Kaito Takehide. We broke up the first time seven years ago with a few off and on moments, but I officially cut him out of my life a year later. His eyes met mine through the glass, and a smirk spread across his face.

Kaito came from a third-generation family whose wealth was built on suspicious origins and shady business deals. I could practically feel the air thicken with the tension of our shared history, a mix of fond memories and bitter regrets. The last thing I wanted was to relive the maelstrom he brought into my life.

"Great," I muttered under my breath, my shoulders slumping with resignation. This was the last thing I needed right now, in a grocery store parking lot of all places. Kaito was an ex for a reason.

He stepped out of the car, his confident stride betraying an air of entitlement that always grated on me. "Mae," he said, his tone a mix of faux warmth and condescension. "Fancy seeing you here."

I forced a tight smile, my irritation barely concealed. "Kaito. What are you doing here?"

"I was just in the area," he said, his eyes drifting over my tattoos with that familiar, unsettling gaze that spoke of hunger for something he wasn't allowed to touch anymore. "I didn't expect to run into you, but it's a nice surprise, as always."

I tightened my grip on my car keys, feeling a surge of defensive energy. "I'm busy. If you'll excuse me, I'd like to finish up and go home."

Kaito's smile widened, and he took a step closer, his gaze lingering with a possessive intensity. "Come on, Mae. It's been a while. Let's catch up. I'm sure you've missed me. I've surely missed you." His eyes traveled along my arms and landed on my chest.

I took a step back, fighting the urge to jab my keys into his eyes. How had I ever found him and his behavior attractive? Had I really lost my sanity that much? "No, Kaito. I haven't missed you. Just let me be."

I could feel my heart racing, the frustration bubbling up inside me. What was I thinking back then? Had I been so desperate for affection that I overlooked all the red flags? It was infuriating. Why was he even here?

His expression shifted to one of frustration. "You always were so stubborn. It's like you can't let go of the past."

I concealed my disdain, a familiar hunger for confrontation simmering beneath the surface. How dare he twist the narrative? "Let go of the past?" I shot back, my voice steady despite the tempest inside me. "You're the one who can't seem to understand that some things should stay buried."

Kaito was used to getting what he wanted, a lesson I learned too late in our relationship when I finally began to stand up to him. By then, I had already endured enough of his manipulations and charm, only to realize it was all a facade.

Now, facing him, I could see the remnants of that arrogance in his eyes, the expectation that I would simply fall back into line. But I wasn't that person anymore.

"Why are you here, Kaito?" I demanded, my tone sharper than I intended. "I've moved on."

He leaned back slightly, a condescending smile creeping onto his lips. "You say that, but I can see it in your eyes. You still care, even if you won't admit it."

I clenched my jaw, resisting the urge to react. How could he still manipulate me with words? A fire surged within me at his cocky audacity. "You're wrong. I'm done with you."

I glanced toward my car, calculating my next move. I was trapped between dealing with Kaito and the unsettling encounter with Jason who was probably still hanging around watching this entire scene unfold, hoping to find an advantage. I needed to get away from both of them.

"Look," I said firmly with a curl of my lip, "I really don't have time for this. I'm leaving."

Kaito leaned in slightly, a predatory glint in his eyes. "You'll crawl back to me eventually," he said, his tone dripping with smug certainty. "And when you do, I'll be waiting, happily ready to say, ‘I told you so.' "

The words hung in the air, heavy with implication. I could feel a wave of anger mixed with something darker.

"I won't," I shot back, my voice steady but laced with tension. "I don't belong to you, Kaito. I've moved on."

He chuckled softly, a sound that sent shivers down my spine. "We'll see about that," he replied, leaning back with an air of smugness. The way he watched me felt almost possessive, like he believed he still had some claim over my choices.

I took another step back, steeling myself against the unease creeping in. "Just stay away from me," I warned, my heart pounding.

I unlocked my car door with a swift motion and climbed inside, my hands shaking slightly while I started the engine. I glanced at Kaito through the window, pulling away. His expression was a mix of irritation and arrogance.

As I drove home, my mind was still reeling from the events of the day. The unwanted attention from Jason grocery-creep, the unwelcome encounter with Kaito boomerang-ex—it had all been overwhelming. I focused on the road ahead, determined to put the day's challenges behind me.

Arriving home, I took a deep breath and locked the door behind me. The house was quiet, a stark contrast to the trouble of the parking lot. I needed to regroup, to find some semblance of calm in the midst of the turmoil.

I leaned against the door for a moment, allowing the silence to wash over me. The familiar scent of home, a blend of incense and clean linen, wrapped around me like a comforting embrace. But the peace felt fragile, like a thin layer of ice that could crack at any moment.

I moved through the dimly lit living room, the soft glow of the lamp illuminating the edges of my thoughts. My mind raced back to Kaito's smirk and his chilling words. You'll crawl back to me eventually. I shivered, pushing those thoughts aside while I made my way to the kitchen.

As I poured myself a glass of water, the mundane action felt almost surreal. How could I go from confronting my past to this ordinary moment so quickly? I leaned against the counter, letting the coolness of the glass ground me.

But just when I took a sip, my phone buzzed on the table, jolting me from my reverie. I glanced at the screen, my heart skipping a beat. It was a message from an unknown number. "You'll be riding my cock and screaming my name again soon enough."

My breath caught in my throat, and a chill crept down my spine. I set the glass down slowly, the weight of the message settling heavily in the air. I could feel the walls closing in around me, the quiet of my home suddenly feeling much less safe.