Shattered

Carter (e)

"Wright, wait! Don't leave yet!" His muffled voice shouted through the window.

Questions and confusion come flooding through me at the realization of who this person was, and along with it, the unease. It seeped through me upon the memories that filled my mind.

This was Chase. The drunk from Hazel's coffee shop.

There were no signs of drunkenness, though. Nothing but the cold that stained his cheeks red and made his skinny arms look ghost white. Chase looked miserable, and I nearly laughed at just how the tables have turned.

Chase made a motion with his hand for me to roll down the window, but I didn't move. Instead, I glared and reversed my car.

He was quick to follow after me, jumping behind my car so that I was forced to stop. It wouldn't have bothered me to hit him, because surely Chase wouldn't die, but I could only imagine the fit he'd throw if I did. One single tap would most definitely be a death sentence.

I let out a frustrated breath and turned back to the passenger window as Chase began to speak, mouth moving and voice muffled, but didn't care to listen to.

I tried to back out once more, but again, Chase moved.

Finally, I rolled down my window, inviting in the cold that made me shiver.

"Make it qui—" I started to say, only to be cut off by Chase's voice.

"Where's Hazel?"

"Why?" I bit out.

"I just need her—is she working?" He continued. I didn't like how calm he sounded because it was nearly enough to convince me that Chase didn't mean the harm that I was expecting.

The longer Chase stood there, the more leery I became of him, compelled to lie to keep the worry I felt at bay. I told myself it wasn't just for Hazel's sake.

"She's off—so get away from my car and leave me alone." I snapped this quickly, praying that Chase wouldn't see through the brash, white lie.

Chase backed away, but didn't move to leave. His lips tilted upward.

"You let your employees have days off? I'm surprised, Carter Wright. But also, that sounds like a lie because Hazel isn't at home."

Home? How did Chase know where Hazel lived?

"Then she must be out, I don't keep track of my employees."

Chase continued to stare at me disbelievingly, and as he began to open his mouth to speak, I rolled up my window and began to fully remove myself from the parking space.

When Chase didn't follow, I blew out a sigh of relief as it flooded through me, eager to get home and forget this wretched day.

As I was just about to pull out into the street, I glanced back, searching for Chase who was now nowhere to be found. And the only indication of his whereabouts became clear when I noticed the glass doors swinging back into place.

Anger swelled inside of me, compelled to follow Chase back inside of my building. Although, it was the idea of seeing Hazel again that made my cheeks warm, halting in my steps.

But he could hurt her, a voice inside my head warned.

But you don't care, said another. The louder one.

Did I care that a stranger was welcoming himself inside unannounced? Yes. I genuinely did, but facing Hazel meant reliving the embarrassment all over again.

Images of the coffee shop resurfaced in my mind. Of Chase's drunken state and Hazel's fearful gaze. It only spiked mine, but pushed it away quickly as I forced myself back inside the building—a single thought replaying in my mind, flooded me with reassurance. Although, I knew it wouldn't last long.