Chapter Two: Bracelets and Battle Scars
1510 Words
God must’ve answered my silent prayer, because Cade Reeve didn’t show up the next morning.
Which, frankly, was the highlight of my day.
Between the guy who didn’t know what a tip jar was and the lady who asked if her iced coffee could be “less cold,” the last thing I needed was a six-foot-four reminder that I had, in fact, roasted a celebrity yesterday.
By the time I clocked out, my soul had left my body. I could barely feel my feet, and the only thing keeping me upright was the idea of collapsing face-first into my pillow.
The air outside was cooler than I expected, crisp with that L.A. dusk edge that always made the city feel like it was pretending to be calm. I turned the corner toward home, hoodie up, earbuds in, world off.
A black Ranger rolled up beside me like a scene from every true-crime podcast I’ve ever binged.
It slowed. Too close. Too slow.
I dug my hand into my bag. If this guy breathed the wrong way, I was spraying first and asking questions later.
The driver’s window rolled down.
“Mira.”
I nearly threw my phone.
“Jesus! Are you also in the k********g business, or is that just a side hustle for NBA players now?” I snapped, clutching my tote like a weapon.
Cade Reeve grinned at me from behind the wheel like this was a damn romcom. “Are you always this dramatic?”
“Do you always pull up like a jump scare?” I hissed. “You’re lucky I didn’t pepper-spray you with a cinnamon shaker.”
He laughed. “I’ve been waiting for you. For hours.”
My eyebrows shot up. “What are you, my parole officer?”
“No,” he said, still smiling. “Just someone who wants to talk.”
“Oh, you just want to talk. That’s exactly what all the villains say right before the van doors slide shut.”
He looked like he might pass out from laughing. His head dropped to the steering wheel for a second before he straightened and said, “I’m harmless. Swear.”
“Uh-huh.” I whipped out my phone and started snapping pictures of the license plate.
He blinked. “Wait… what are you doing?”
“Sending this to my brother. Just in case my body ends up on a Dateline episode, he’ll know who did it.”
Cade wiped tears from the corners of his eyes. “You’re unbelievable.”
“And you’re giving serial killer energy.”
“Please,” he said, still smiling. “Just hop in. I’m not here to murder you. I’m here to bribe you.”
I paused.
“What kind of bribe?”
He reached into the passenger seat and pulled out a tiny black box. Placed it on the dash like it was nothing.
“You’re kidding me,” I said, eyeing it suspiciously.
He said nothing. Just watched me.
I hesitated a beat too long.
Then I climbed in. “If I go missing, just know I’m coming back to haunt your rich ass.”
“Duly noted. I’ll even leave snacks out for your ghost.”
I buckled up. “Alright, moneybags. Spill. Why are you stalking your local barista?”
Cade tilted toward me with that lazy, infuriating smirk. “I like you. I want us to be friends.”
I squinted at him. “This isn’t one of those rich guy plots where you’re secretly looking for a surrogate, right? Or a fake wife? ‘Cause I’m out. My uterus has enough problems.”
He choked on his own laugh, doubling over. “Oh my God. No! What is wrong with your brain?”
“It’s overactive and underfunded.”
Still laughing, he placed the black box in my palm. “Just open it.”
“I swear, if this is a tracking device…”
I flipped it open.
A silver wrist chain. Minimalist. Gorgeous. Probably expensive enough to pay three months of rent and still leave change for groceries.
I exhaled slowly. “You know this looks like a friendship bribe, right?”
“It is a friendship bribe.”
“You rich kids are so weird.”
“I’m not a kid.”
“Fine. Are you one of those rich dudes who missed human connection in childhood and now think buying people into friendship is the way?”
“Mira. Look at me.”
I did.
“I don’t have to buy friends. They come in droves. Especially women.”
“Cocky much?”
“Confident.”
“Right. And this,” I gestured at the bracelet, “how much does this cost?”
He raised a brow. “Why?”
“So I don’t get cheated when I pawn it.”
His mouth dropped open. “Are you, are you seriously planning to sell the gift I just gave you?”
“I’m already dividing this thing into groceries, rent, and therapy.”
He stared at me like I’d slapped him with a croissant.
“Wow,” he said. “You’re not just trouble. You’re the whole damn manual.”
I grinned. “You’re catching on.”
“Friendship with you is going to be a full-time job, isn’t it?”
“Friendship application still under review,” I said sweetly, opening the door.
“Wait, at least give me your number!”
I recited it like I’d done it a hundred times for telemarketers.
He called out as I walked away, “You’re gonna say yes. I can feel it.”
“Manifest it, Reeve,” I called back, not turning around.
---
When I got home, the house was quiet.
No sound of my mom crashing through furniture or ranting about invisible ghosts. I peeked into her room. She was asleep. Pills, not booze tonight. A win.
Jesse’s door was shut. Another win.
I showered. Ate cereal with my eyes half-shut. Crawled into bed like it owed me money.
Just as I started drifting…
Knock-knock.
I opened one eye.
Jesse stood at the door with that “I’ve been thinking again” face.
“No,” I groaned. “Whatever it is, no.”
“It’s important.”
I patted the bed beside me. “You’re lucky I love you.”
He climbed in beside me.
“So what’s tonight’s TED Talk?”
“What’s it like being a girl?”
I turned. “Damn, Jesse. That’s a loaded question.”
He nodded. “This girl in my class won the class rep position again. She’s smart, right? But some boy said she only won because she’s pretty.”
I scowled. “Let me guess, he’s never won anything but the loudest mouth?”
Jesse grinned. “Pretty much. She asked him if he’d say the same if a boy had won. He didn’t have an answer.”
I smiled. “She’s sharp.”
“I think she’s amazing,” he said softly. “But she doesn’t even seem surprised that people treat her like she doesn’t deserve it.”
“Because that’s what it’s like,” I murmured.
Jesse tilted his head. “What do you mean?”
I turned to look at him fully.
“You know what got me fired from my last job?”
He frowned. “You said something about… downsizing?”
I exhaled.
“I lied.”
His whole face shifted. “Mira…?”
“My boss tried to sleep with me. When I refused, he made my life hell. Cut my shifts. Put me on closing duty for weeks. Then said I wasn’t ‘team fit’ anymore and let me go.”
Jesse stared at me, horror blooming in his eyes.
“That’s what it’s like,” I said softly. “Being a girl means walking into every room wondering what it’s going to cost. Your time. Your dignity. Your silence.”
He didn’t say anything for a long moment.
Then he whispered, “I want to be a lawyer for women. I want to fight for girls like that. Like you.”
“You’d be damn good at it.”
He sat up, voice steadier. “I mean it, Mira. One day I’ll fight the people who think power gives them permission.”
I swallowed, throat tight.
“Please be good, Jesse. Be everything I’m not sure if I’ll get the chance to be.”
“Mira…”
“I’m not saying I’m giving up. Just…” I trailed off. “If I never make it out of this mess, I want you to be the good that comes out of all of it.”
He looked at me for a long time.
Then leaned down and kissed my forehead. “You already are.”
He walked out the door, leaving me alone in the dark. The silence felt heavier than usual.
I wasn’t sure if I believed in hope anymore.
But I believed in Jesse. And maybe that was enough.
- Writer
