Hi, guys!
Here's my new story :) I hope you enjoy it as much or even more as 'To Love a Fighter', that completely exceeded my expectations with all the votes and comments - thank you!, and help me to grow a little more as an amateur writer.
This time, I'll try to set goals, just to see how many votes and comments I can get, since it's what really keeps me going. I would love to achieve 200 votes (or more, of course) , so pleeease vote ok? I would like to have 10 or 15 votes per chapter. I'll not stop updating if I don't reach the goals though, it will just take a little longer.
Please help me to improve, it's your opinions that make me understand my mistakes and how to write better. However, I'm talking about GOOD and POSITIVE criticism, not just insults and harsh critics to bring me down. I'm only seventeen and English is not my mother tongue so it's really hard to create something in a foreign tongue. Understand that I won't tolerate disrespect of any kind.
I don't bite, you can leave any (respectful) comment or just say 'hi' on my message board, I'll answer to everyone as soon as I can :D
I'll stop rambling now, I get it, it's getting boring.
Anyway, enjoy my first chapter!
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, THIS STORY IS MINE AND I'LL BE REALLY PISSED OFF IF I FIND THIS SOMEWHERE ELSE!
Good reading
Chapter 1
"Bye, Mrs. Scott, enjoy your book." I warmly said to the old lady while I put her new romance book in a plastic bag and hand it over to her.
"Thank you, Aleera, you are a sweetheart." Mrs. Scott replied, smiling at me and slowly walking out of my little bookstore, the age weighing on her bones.
Mrs. Scott was an usual customer, enjoying her historical romances almost as she enjoyed telling me about her grandchildren that lived in Ohio with her daughter and her daughter's husband. She was a sweet lady but very talkative when she was in the mood.
Chuckling, I shook my head in amusement and walked around the wooden counter, heading towards my bookcases, putting some books, that costumers had left on the small coffee tables or on the leather couches, away in their respective places.
I loved my little bookstore. It was not usual for a 25 years old woman own a bookshop, not the normal choice of career but, since I was a little girl, books and music had been my passion. It was why, when the previous owners, a old couple for whom I had worked as a part-time, decided to retire, they sold me the shop for a bargain, knowing that I would take good care of it. Three years had passed since then and I was as happy as the day I got it.
The shop was small, covered in bookcases and shelves filled with all types of books, since Action, to Romance to Sci-fi. I had everything. Small black couches paired with wooden coffee tables were disposed in a corner so costumers could read their books before buying them, to be sure they liked the book they intended to buy. On the other corner, near the door and the two huge storefronts that flanked the entrance, was my counter. "Dreamer's Corner" was my small piece of heaven on earth.
However, despite my every effort to try to make my bookstore a place welcoming and homely to every client, I did not sell as many books as I wished. Many people avoid the neighborhood where my store was as it hadn't the best reputation.
Just down the street was a bar, a nightclub frequented by every gang, biker or criminal in town. During the day, old couples strolled down the street, the bakeries were full of people and teens would flood the clothing stores but, when the sun started setting, after 6pm, the streets became full of other type of people, far more dangerous and vicious people. Unfortunately, my shop closed at 7pm, so I always got out at 7.30pm and had to walk towards my car, parked just down the street. Yes, I was a lucky woman.
Despite those facts, I had lost my fear of walking in the dark alone since I had been doing it for over three years and nothing had happened to me, yet.
When my clock on the wall striked 7pm, I turned the sign from 'Open' to 'Closed' and prepared myself to go home, craving a few more hours of sleep. I finished putting the books in the shelves, turned off the computer and went to the little room behind the counter, where I had my coat and purse.
Closing the front door, I shivered when the cold February's breeze kissed my skin and tightened my long black coat against my body. Tired, cold and in seriously need of sleep, I quickened my step as I walked down the street towards my car. As usual, there they were.
Right in front of the bar "Nightly Sins", was a group of five men, five very dangerous men. They were well known in the city, all part of some kind of gang and had been meeting there, in front of the bar’s door and surrounded by their expensive cars, since I had started working in the bookstore. I should be scared but I wasn't because not once had they approached or talked to me. Staring was all they ever did, well, not all of them, but one, in particular, always seemed to watch my every move. Every night. I always saw them at night, so I couldn't quite tell how they looked, but I could say that he was tall, well over 6 feet, and that he was big and, when I said big, I was referring to very wide shoulders and the rippling cords of muscles that filled his arms, that I could see even in the dark night. Threatening, all of their postures said, dangerous.
Averting my eyes from them, I felt their eyes on me as I continued walking down the street, finally reaching my car. Seeing my old black Toyota Corolla was a relief as I, even used to their stares, always got nervous with their penetrating gazes, specially because I didn’t know why would they stare at me so openly. Quickly, I got in and started the engine, driving towards my small apartment, only a few blocks away.
As I owned a store that didn't make that much money at the end of the month due to the lack of clientele, my financial situation was mediocre, translating into an apartment of the size of a shoe box, mac and cheese or a soup every almost every night for dinner and I didn't even have the luxury of call the plumber to fix my bathroom's water heater. That meant warm/cold water showers for another month.
Sighing, I entered the crappy elevator and reached the second floor of my crappy building, walking past the other three doors on my floor. A yawn escaped my lips as I opened my door, not even bothering to turn on the lights. I walked past the tiny livingroom, dropping my jacket on the couch and laying my low heeled shoes on the floor, starting to undress as I strolled towards the bedroom. Even in the dark, I saw my two white couches, placed around a small coffee table, a dark blue rug, a few paintings and fotos in the walls, a tv in front of the couches and a few bookcases. Right across the living room was my kitchenette, all in white tiles and black cabinets.
Another yawn got away as I undressed my dark jeans and wool crimson turtleneck.Only in my dark blue set of underwear, I searched for my flannel pajamas in my wardrobe, still with all the lights turned off. Finding the white and grey pajamas, I went straight to bed, so tired that I even skipped dinner, completely and utterly exhausted.
The moment I laid on my bed, nestling under the warm covers and my head touched the soft pillow, I was out like a light.
Beep, beep, beep.
Groaning, I stretched my arm and smashed the button of my alarmclock, finally turning off the damn thing. I laid on my back a few more minutes, not ready to get up yet but it was 7.10 am, already and I had to open the store at 8.00 am. I yawned and got up, pulling the the warm covers away and heading towards my small bathroom, shivering as my nude feet touched the cold floor.
Nothing could wake me up faster than shower with almost cold water, besides, it was a good way to save water since my shower time record was currently on the 10 minutes. With my wild mass of brown wavy hair still wet, I started choosing the clothes I would wear that day, settling for another pair of dark blue jeans, a soft cotton light pink shirt with a v-neckline paired with a warm brown fake fur jacket. 7.30am, I had to hurry up. Quickly, I dried my wild hair, aplied some mascara and eyeliner, and rushed to the kitchen, preparing a bowl of cerials with fruit. Grunting, I saw that I was running late, quickly making myself a hot cup of coffee and wolfing down my breakfast as fast as I could. I hated mornings, I was not an early riser, clearly. As I finished eating, I put the bowl, spoon and cup on the dishwasher and rushed to the livingroom's closet, where I had my shoes, and picked a pair of high heeled brown suede boots.
Without another minute to waste, I quickly left my apartment and ran to the elevator, getting in at the same time as my neighbour, Mrs. Johnson.
"Good morning, Aleera." The blonde woman, on her forties, greeted me with a smile.
"Morning, Mrs. Johnson." I said as I tapped my boot on the floor, looking at the my phone to check the time. 7.50 am, damn it, I was going to be late. The elevator finally opened its doors and I rushed out of there, looking back to the lady chuckling at me while walking. "Bye, Mrs. Johnson."
Almost jogging to my car, I unlocked it, turned on the engine, that roared to life, and sped off my parking space, heading to the bookstore. In an amazing 15 minutes I arrived the store, thank God for my house not being far away from the shop and that was no traffic, only 5 minutes late.
Sighing in relief, I parked my car on my usual spot and walked towards the “Dreamer’s Corner”. Looking to my left, I saw the staff of the "Nightly Sins" going to their cars, finally going home after a long night of work. There were only a few people on the street, opening their own shops or going to their works, while drinking their coffees. Still very much sleepy, I opened my bookstore, pulling up the blinds of my huge windows and went to my little private office, where I put my coat and purse. Masking a yawn, I turned on my computer to check my e-mail, delivery reports, inventory and orders, putting all in order before the first customers came in. Twenty minutes later, a couple on their forties came in, greeting me and asking me if I had some books that their kids had to read to school. Smiling, I walked around the counter to give them their books, and that was how my morning started.
I had a relatively calm morning, with only a few clients looking for gifts for friends or books to their kids. After my lunch hour, when I usually went to the cafe right across the street to eat a soup and a salad - my new diet suggested by Michaela - a flood of clients came in, surprising me a little, as I rushed to help each of them to find theirbooks. Let's just say that, around 4.30 pm, I was already feeling the exhaustion weighing on me, even if I had managed to sleep more hours than I was used to last night.
Sipping my hot coffee, that I had made on my office's coffee machine, I sat behind the counter and started inserting on my computer the new orders, sending the requests for new books. It was then the bell on my front door tinkled again.
"I'll be there in a minute." I said, just finishing writing an order. Satisfied with my work, I got up. "Good afternoon." I greeted, only after averting my eyes from my computer.
I felt my mouth agape for a few moments before I quickly regained my composure. Right in front of me, looking like he owned the place, was one of those men that usually were in front of the bar, the one that stared at me every night.
He was a tall man, I was right about that, with about 6'3 or so, filled with rippling muscles that I could see ondulating under his long sleeved black shirt. Broad shoulders, thick neck and thighs, clad in jeans and military black boots. Almost shaved head, I could see he had very dark hair, maybe black, and a beautiful pair of green eyes with golden flecks swimming in them. Gulping, I saw a tip of a tattoo appearing under the neckline of his shirt and noticed the piercing he had on his eyebrow.
Menacing, was what he looked like to me, not any other word coming to my mind as a better description. I gulped one more time before hesitantly walking around my counter and standing in front of him.
"Can I help you sir?" I politely asked, motioning to the bookcases. "Are you looking for something specific?"
"I'm not looking for a book." The man told me, his hoarse and awfully sexy voice, the kind of voice that would make you wobble on your knees, filling the small space. His gaze was penetrating and intense, exactly like every night and I was glad that I hadn't know how he looked like before because, if I had known, I wouldn't be able to walk by them without melt in a pool of warmth. I was not used to that kind of reaction towards a man or being the target of such attention.
Clearing my throat, I tried again. "Then what you want, sir?"
"For you to go out with me."