The Gangleader's Obsessed with Me

Thorns On The Roses

"Lorelei," I jump as something collides with my face. James stands over me with a newspaper in his hands.

"What?"

"Your friend is gone."

Looking over at the chair, gang member man was actually . . . not there anymore.

"Oh, damn. His feet must be like feathers cause I didn't hear a thing."

James continues to stare at me, an unreadable expression on his face.

"I'm sorry, did we – are we experiencing the same thing?" I give him a confused glance, picking up my bag from besides his chair.

"Lorelei, a stranger stumbled into your car with gunshot wounds . . . you drive him here, instead of a hospital because he asked you to while he was dying, then you make me remove the bullets so that he could sleep peacefully on my chair that's now drenched with blood –,"

"I'll take care of that."

"-and then just up and leave at the c***k of dawn, without saying anything?"

"Hey," I shrug, standing, "that's . . . that's just life, James. Life is weird."

James continues to stand with his lips parted in shock while I walk around him.

"Thank you so much . . . you're my dearest friend. I've got to get to work, just um . . . send me the cost of cleaning the couch."

"Hey, we're not done talking about this!"

Shutting the door behind me, I practically skip to my car . . . until I noticed the blood-covered dent on my door.

"Oh s**t," I whisper to myself. I walk over to the back seat and surely enough, my seats were drenched with gang member man's blood.

#

"Lorelei Madden," my mother practically skips behind me as I pad to my room, "where were you last night? And why did James drop off the groceries? And where is your car? Also, I told you I don't like those white eggs! Why'd you buy –"

"Mom," I snap, before taking a deep breath, "I've got to get ready for work, we can talk later."

"I really need to get my own place," I thought as I threw myself back onto my bed. My neck ached from the uncomfortable position I slept in last night.

It was a little after ten, so I hopped up from my bed and took a quick shower. Staring at the woman in the mirror, I hardly noticed her. She had grown so much.

She looked . . . tired. I rub gingerly at her cheeks, disliking the way they seemed to sag. Gosh, I'm only 21 for pete's sake.

My door swings open again and I angrily step into my bedroom.

"Mom, can you please –"

"Relax," she rolls her eyes, "someone dropped this off for you."

She hands me a paper bag, and I scrunch my eyebrows before taking t from her hands.

"Who?"

"They didn't say, also . . . there's this car in the driveway, but no one's in it."

What the hell . . .

Securing my towel around myself I pad through the house and then to the driveway. Surprisingly enough there was a new car just . . . sitting there. It had a little bow on it, a tiny piece of paper attached.

'I ruined your car . . . hope that'll make up for it."

"Whos is it?" My mother calls from the porch and I look around before turning to her.

"I guess it's . . . mine?"

#

"Call him, and tell him to take it back," my mother folds her arms over me as I eat breakfast and I sigh.

"Mom . . . I don't know his number, I hardly even know him."

"Ay," she holds her chest as If I had punched her and dramatically clings to the kitchen counter, "a stranger . . . a stranger brought you this car – Lorelei are you . . . are you a p********e?"

"Oh boy."

"Are you selling yourself, Lorelei?"

"No, I have a sugar daddy," I stand to throw my dish in the sink and of course, she follows quickly behind.

"At this time, you wanna make jokes with me?"

"You're the one who called me a prostitute."

"You better give it back; I don't want to see that car in my driveway any day after today."

"I'll park it down the street then," as expected a metal cup flies in my direction as I grab my bag and leave the house.

My mother was far more than a handful, and most days, I couldn't stand her. After a while though, you learn to just . . . get used to it. The constant nagging, the scolding, the pretending you're not a legal adult, you just adapt to it.

Hesitantly I climb into the car hoping there was a hint as to anyone I could call. But there was nothing. The paper bag my mother handed to me just had a bunch of chocolates. Most likely gang member man was the one behind this, but how did he know where I lived?

Maybe he went back to James, and James told him.

Whatever it was would have to wait because I was about to be late for work.

#

"Mr. Barry, I can't find the tulips."

"I . . . I didn't order any."

Mr. Barry was the elderly man that employed me three years ago after literally no one would hire me. It's been him and I running 'The Flower Spot," ever since and we enjoyed every moment of it; even the bad days. But this time . . . it didn't seem like the bad days were gonna go away.

"Oh . . . okay, that means we'll have to cancel Michel's order."

Mr. Barry sighs, slumping in his seat and I bring my fingers up to my lips.

"I don't know if we can keep going, Lorelei . . . I – I'm drowning."

The old man rubs his forehead, pushing his glasses up onto his nose, "Mr. Barry, I understand that. I told you, you don't need to pay me for the time being –,"

"No . . . this time it's a permanent thing. After the rest of these flowers are sold, I'm closing shop."

"Mr. Barry -,"

"I'm sorry, Lorelei, I can't do it anymore."

He gives me a sympathetic smile before disappearing into the back room while I stand out front. With a heavy sigh, I tug at one of the strands in my afro and get back to clipping the thorns on the roses.