Page 89 of Fight Or Flight

“I’m busy,” she said. “Working late.”

“Please, Chelsea. I know the way I left was really immature.”

“And you just realized that now? It took you three weeks to see how ghosting your family with a fucking note was wrong? Do you know how hard it was to tell Ben you’d left? He cried.”

Natalie squeezed her eyes shut. “I thought I was doing the right thing. I’m so sorry. I—”

“Hey!” someone yelled from down the hall. “Shut up!”

Natalie looked over at a middle-aged lady with two yappy little dogs barking at her feet. She cocked a brow and gave a pointed look at the dogs. “You’re making a lot more noise than us, lady.”

“You’re not shutting up!”

Natalie’s blood boiled. She’d spent so much time with cheerful people on vacation that she’d forgotten what it was like to live next door to miserable assholes. She had a lot of anger pent up, mostly at herself and Anne, but if someone was going to step in and make themselves an outlet for it, by all means.

“Fuck off back inside,” she said, taking a step toward the woman and shooing her away. “And take yip and yap with you.”

The lady gasped, then backed into her apartment, and slammed the door. Man, did that feel good.

Natalie turned back to Chelsea with a smile. “Maybe you should let me in before I swear at all your neighbours.”

“You’re in a feisty mood.”

Natalie shrugged. “I’ve reached my breaking point. I’m sick of people and their crap.”

“In that case, maybe I’ll leave you out there. Ralph in 4D is bound to show up and start harassing you. He’s a real slimy little turd.”

“Chelsea . . .”

Chelsea rolled her eyes. “Fine,” she said, stepping aside. Once Natalie pulled her suitcase in, Chelsea set about relocking all six locks on the door.

Natalie took off her sandals, pushed her suitcase against the wall, and looked around. It was a tiny one-bedroom apartment, with a galley kitchen that had a table for two, a living room that had a single bed pushed up next to the couch, and a small bathroom.

“Where’s Ben?”

“Asleep in his bedroom. It’s eleven at night.”

“Right. I’m on Sydney time. Just landed. Do you sleep there?” she asked, pointing at the bed.

Chelsea nodded, walked over to a desk in the corner and sat down. There were three computer monitors and several other pieces of equipment that Natalie didn’t know the name of in front of her. She clicked a few things until her screen saver of Ben on the beach appeared, then she spun in the chair to face Natalie.

“Why are you here?”

Natalie walked to the two-seater couch and sat. “I saw Anne’s offer, and it really pissed me off. I refused to sign it.”

Chelsea rolled her eyes. “Great. So now it’s going to drag out even longer?”

“No. I’m back now, and I think I have a way we can all get what we want. Well . . . almost all of us. Speeler’s putting it together right now, but I need you on board.”

Chelsea narrowed her eyes. “You’re back?”

“Yes. For good this time,” she said with a nod. A smile cracked through the anger. “I’m moving to Mapleton.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I figured you wouldn’t, and I can’t blame you.” She stood from the couch, paced the tiny room, which only allowed her to walk three steps in each direction. “I acted like a total asshole.”

“I don’t get why, though. You said you were going to stay for two weeks.”

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