Page 22 of Toxic B!tch
This woman.
Indigo is unlike anyone I’ve ever met, let alone dated. She doesn’t dance around what she wants, doesn’t hint or wait for someone else to take the lead. There’s no coyness or playing hard-to-get—just blunt, fearless honesty. Hell, I’ve been racking my brain all week trying to come up with some perfect first date—not the usual dinner or movie deal, something that would stand out. And then she just pops in this morning with a simple demand:take me to the carnival.
I have not been to the winter carnival since I was a teenager, but I remember they had tons of food, little shops, and amusement rides. I wonder if Indigo is the kind of woman you win a stuffed animal for? I’ll have to ask her, or I’m sure she’ll just tell me, “Hey, win me that bear.”
I check my phone again, rereading her last message, the one that’s burned into my mind:Wear something that’s easily removed.The words alone have me swallowing hard, heat spreading through my body as I reach down to adjust myself. Just two nights ago, kissing her in my truck, feeling her pressed close to me—that was already almost more than I could handle. And now she sends this text, taunting me, practically begging for more. Makes me want to call into work right now, drive straight to her place, and give her what she’s asking for.
I won’t, I’ll play it cool. I’ll work the full day like I planned and take her out tonight. But she’s in for it if she pushes me like she did the night we met. I’m not nearly as gentlemanly as she might think, and I’m more than ready to show her just how much she affects me.
I pull up in front of Brandon and Colleen’s house, shift into park, and take a steadying breath. This project has been a long time coming, and I’m ready to get my hands on it. Demo starts today, the first step toward turning their house into the home they’ve been envisioning. After they signed the contract and handed over the down payment, I got them lined up with our designer, and now we’re here. Ready to get to work.
The kitchen’s getting gutted first—an odd ordeal, seeing it’s already totally finished and immaculate. But Brandon’s working from home, dispatching or something, and he needs a bigger office space. So the kitchen’s pushing out into the dining room. It’s gonna be a beast of a project, but damn if it doesn’t feel good to see it coming together.
But as I walk toward the house, all I can think about is Indigo. The carnival. Her text. The way her voice might sound tonight, daring and a little breathless, as she leans close and tells me exactly what she wants. And the way I won’t be able to tell her no.
Brandon meets me at the door, wearing an eager grin, and I shake his hand firmly. “Morning, man. Ready to see some walls come down?”
He nods, grinning widely as he lets me inside. The house is still—a little too quiet for the work that’s about to tear through it, but there’s an energy in the air that feels just right. Brandon hands me the blueprints that Daisy, our designer, put together for the new layout, and I flip through them, impressed by her attention to detail as always.
“So, what do you do again?” I ask, looking up from the designs.
Brandon glances away briefly, his eyes shifting toward the kitchen where his wife Colleen’s kitten is curled up on the counter, watching us with wary green eyes. “I own my own company,” he says finally.
“Dispatch, right?”
“Yeah.” He chuckles a little, as if there’s more to the story than he’s letting on. “But it’s not exactly telling trucks where to drive. People call when they need my service, and I send crews out to handle it. It’s kinda like subcontracting, but I actually employ the crews myself.”
“Interesting.” I nod, considering that. “Always good to know people in different fields, you know?”
Brandon smirks, an almost mischievous glint in his eye. “Well, let’s just say I signed a pretty airtight non-disclosure when I joined the Chamber. I’ll say this…we do pretty specific cleanings.”
The hint of mystery in his tone piques my curiosity, but I decide not to pry. Whatever he’s got going on, it’s clearly something he’s not ready to share, and I respect that.
“Alright then, I’ll take that as a ‘don’t ask too many questions,’” I say with a grin, tucking the blueprints underneath my arm. “But hey, maybe someday you’ll tell me over a beer or two.”
He laughs, nodding as he gestures for me to follow him into the kitchen. “We’ll see.”
We move toward the section that’s set to be gutted, the fresh smell of coffee wafting from his makeshift office. This space will be transformed in a matter of weeks, and there’s something satisfying in knowing that I’ll be part of it. Yet, even as we talk shop, my mind drifts to tonight—to Indigo, to the carnival, to the promise lingering between us in her messages.
Brandon continues talking about the plans, pointing out where the walls will shift, where new storage will be added, and where the lighting’s going to change everything. But despite my excitement about this project, I really want this day to go by faster so I can feel Indigo close to me again.
I don’t knowwhat she meant by easy to remove, but I put on a pair of black joggers and a dark green sweater, hoping I didn’t disobey my girl’s request.
As I pull into her driveway, the front door swings open, and there she is. Indigo glides down the steps with a Cheshire Cat grin that promises trouble and a thrill all wrapped in one. My heart pounds just watching her move.
She’s wrapped in a deep forest-green coat. The vintage-style silhouette pulling tight at her waist before flaring out dramatically, ending right before her knees. The plush fur trim—rich and dark—decorates her collar, cuffs, and hem, adding an old-world edge to her look. Her inky, dark hair cascades in soft waves that contrast beautifully with her bright, striking red lips. Her light eyes, piercing and intense, are locked on my truck like a predator stalking her prey.
I start to jump out, ready to greet her, but, but she stops me with a playful shake of her head, her voice teasing. “I’m no damsel, Malik. I can open my own door, but it’s good to know you’re a gentleman.”
I pause, my hand hovering over the handle, and chuckle. “Well, all right then. Noted.”
She slips into the passenger seat, leaning close—closer than she probably needs to, but I’m not complaining. The scent of her perfume fills my nose, dark and sweet, like cherries dipped in poison. Her leg brushes mine as she settles in, her gaze taking me in like she’s already imagining what she’ll do to me later.
“You look handsome, Malik,” she purrs, her voice low, dripping with that wicked edge of hers.
“Thanks, baby.” I glance over, smirking as I let my eyes roam over her. “You look sexy yourself, but isn’t it a little warm for that coat? Not that I’m complaining.”
She laughs, her red lips curving into a smirk as her fingers idly trace the fur trim on her sleeve. “Yeah, and I hate that it covers all my tattoos, but it’s a winter carnival, babe. Gotta dress the part, right?”
