CHAPTER 13
I woke early the next morning and called my boss to tell him I was feeling better, and was ready to go back to work. He was thrilled, since he hadn’t been able to get anyone else to cover it. I had to keep myself from asking if he hadn’t been able to find a replacement for my weekend shifts either. It would have only made me feel more guilty. Being short staffed was never fun.
After hanging up with Danny, I packed my stuff—what clothes I had at Nathan’s—and proceeded to get ready. I took a shower in the guest bathroom, changed, and did my hair and make-up. I was relieved to find that the bruise on my face that I’d incurred from my one-on-one time with Larson was already healed. Good thing, too. I didn’t want to have to give Danny some lame excuse about how I’d walked into a door or something.
Once I was all finished freshening up, I collected my things, grabbed my car keys, and headed out. As I was walking down the stairs, Nathan called out from the kitchen.
“Breakfast is almost ready.”
I caught a whiff of the eggs and sausage he was cooking. The mouth-watering aroma made my stomach growl. “Thanks, but I think I’m going to have to skip it—I’ve gotta get home and wash my work clothes. I’ve got a four o’clock shift I need to make.”
Nathan poked his head out of the kitchen just as I bounded the last few steps and entered the living room. He eyed the suitcase at my side. “You’re taking your things?”
I didn’t know why, but his statement made me feel guilty, like I was abandoning him.
“Why?”
I stated the obvious, “Because…I’m going home.”
He disappeared back into the kitchen for a moment, before reemerging. He approached me, his eyes serious. “It is significantly safer for you to remain here, Viktoriya.”
“But my apartment is my home. All my things are there. Plus, it’s only a few blocks from my work—which is way more convenient than nearly an hour’s worth of driving,” I argued.
The fact that I was less likely to be cornered and killed by a demon here outweighed all of those things, but still. That disaster I called an apartment felt like home to me. It was quiet, familiar, and reassuring. Plus, I liked having my own space. Nathan’s house was luxurious, sure, but I was suffocating in testosterone.
“So, commute. It may be inconvenient—as you say—but it is a small price to pay for your well-being. You cannot beat your demons if you are dead.”
He had a point there. Granted, I could make the argument that spending more time on the freeway would increase my chances of an untimely death, but then I’d just be arguing for arguments sake.
“Stay,” he urged.
I didn’t answer right away—mostly, to build suspense, but also because the thought of living here with Nathan, for an undetermined amount of time, gave me pause. But damnit, I had to admit the nights I’d stayed here I’d gotten the best sleep of my life. No nightmares, or creepy shadows, or whispers from the dark corners of my room. It was a pleasant reprieve from what I was used to.
“Fine,” I caved, setting down the suitcase. “But I still have to go home—my work clothes aren’t going to wash themselves. And I should probably bring some of my things over.”
He visibly relaxed. “Very well. Would you like for me to drive you?”
“Thanks, but I’m perfectly capable.”
He gave me a challenging, but teasing look. I rolled my eyes. “I’ll see you tonight,” I told him, heading for the front door.
“Be safe,” he called after me.
“Wasn’t planning on it, but now that you’ve mentioned it…” was my mocking response as I exited his home, closing the door behind me.
Sometimes people stated the most obvious crap.
I climbed into my ancient Ford, started him up, and headed out. I made it home just before noon, and immediately threw my work clothes in the washer. While I waited for them to finish, I raided my fridge. I settled on a bowl of cereal, having to use water in place of milk because mine had expired. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and all that jazz. It wasn’t all that bad, though, really. Nathan’s breakfast would have undoubtedly been better, but oh well.
After my tummy was somewhat satisfied, I headed to my room. Of course, in its current condition, no one would know it was a bedroom, being that I’d so cleverly disguised it. Heaps of clothes, books, and Milano mint cookie wrappers so completely covered my bed and my floor that I couldn’t see evidence of either. I could only assume the mound on the right was my bed, since that’s where I’d last left it. Basically, it was a hoarder’s wet dream—minus the corpses of beloved pets.
I began digging through my mess and grabbing a few outfits, doing the sniff test to make sure they were clean. I folded the ones I planned on taking back with me to Nathan’s, and set them on, what was most likely, my nightstand. I went over to my closet and opened it. A few things I’d crammed in there tumbled out, surprising me. After the slight scare, I did some excavating, in which I found a travel bag I used to carry my folded, mostly-clean clothes.
I also threw in some socks and two extra pairs of shoes—flip flips and tennies—because a girl should always be prepared. Especially when said girl has demons on her tail. I quickly brushed my hair before packing the brush as well. It had been more than a few days since I’d last brushed it, and I didn’t want to be without it again. Nappy hair just wasn’t a good look for me—or anyone else, for that matter.
My washer pinged, letting me know my work clothes were ready to dry. So, I went out into the hallway where my washer-dryer-combo lay hidden behind not-so-obvious folding doors, to transfer my clothes to the dryer. Just my luck, I was out of dryer sheets. To hell with it. I had bigger issues anyway.
An hour before my shift, I was packed and ready. And, very hungry. Turns out water and Lucky Charms do very little in the way of sustenance. Normally, I walked to work, but decided to drive today, since I had a load of clothes to carry, and I’d be going straight to Nathan’s afterwards.
Four blocks made for a short drive. I pulled in the lot, and parked in my usual spot near the back—Dan made all of us park back here so that his customers didn’t have to. Hopping out of my truck, I tried to beat the heat to the back entrance. I was just about to break a sweat when I reached the employee entrance. Central air conditioning greeted me as I pulled it open. It was a welcome reprieve from the sweltering midday summer air.
Safe from the humidity, I carried onto the breakroom. Naomi was there, gearing up for her shift.
“Hey, chica,” she said, flashing me pearly whites against bronze skin. She was equally as gorgeous as Summer, but in a more exotic way. Her Native American and Spanish heritage lended her a beauty that was often found between the glossy covers of magazines.
“You comin’ on with me,” she asked, tying her black apron around her hips.
“Not yet,” I told her. “I’m not on till four.”
“Lucky,” she said throwing her long dark locks into a ponytail and pulling it through her designated trucker hat, her voice laced with envy.
I opened my locker. “For now. I’m sure I’ll be sayin’ the same thing when you get cut before me.” She may be clocking in before me, but as soon as we slowed down enough, Danny would send her home. Not before doing her fair share of chores, of course. So while she may be going on an hour before me, she’d probably be clocking out two or three hours ahead of me. In my opinion, she’s the one who was the one with good fortune.
I grabbed my own hat, and apron with my serverbook, but didn’t put them on since I was going to eat first.
“Dan told me you’ve been sick—if you want, I can stay on for you so you can go home early if you’re not feelin’ up to it tonight,” she offered.
“Nah, I’ll be fine. And I really can’t afford to take any more time off—rent, and all that.” Plus, I needed to be able to pay Nathan for his unique services.
She flattened down her apron. “Alright, but let me know if you change your mind.” Naomi started to walk out, but I stopped her before she could take more than two steps.
“Hey, would you mind putting in an order for me real quick?”
“Sure thing,” she grinned.
I gave her some money and ordered a BLTA and a coke, then headed to one of the back tables in the restaurant. The break room was too small to take a break in with all the foot traffic. Plus, you couldn’t fit a chair or table in there—just our lockers—so, Dan made all of us eat at a few table in the far back part of the L-shaped dining area. Even when we were at our busiest, we never used that part of the restaurant, so it wasn’t an issue. Especially now, since there was only one other customer in the diner aside from me. The lunch rush had already ended, and the dinner crowd wouldn’t start to trickle in for another hour or so.
Less than ten minutes later, Naomi arrived with my meal. She set it on the table and plopped down onto the booth across from me, sighing dramatically. “We’re so freakin’ dead! I think I might die of boredom.”
I laughed, “Yeah, well, if Dan sees you before that happens, he’ll surely put you out of your misery.”
Danny was a good guy, a fun guy. But work was work, and if he ever caught us slacking off instead of doing something productive, say like cutting lemons or brewing coffee, he would give us an earful.
“Let him. If I roll one more thing of silverware, I’ll lose my shit and start eating the customers.”
I was on my second bite, trying not to have a foodgasm as she spoke. Our BLTAs were magical. “Bet he wouldn’t be too thrilled about that either,” I giggled around a mouthful of food.
She snatched up one of my fries, laughing.
I was just about done with the first half of my sandwich when Naomi’s only customer appeared from around the corner, looming over our table. He was older, mid thirties maybe, and not very hygienic. He tried to hide his greasy brown hair under his generic ball cap, but it didn’t work. His hair was down to his shoulders, and even his ends were oily. It looked like he hadn’t bothered to shower or shave for at least a week. The sleeves of his red and black plaid shirt were rolled up, the shirt itself unbuttoned, revealing a white undershirt with fresh barbecue stains. He looked like countless of other truckers who stopped in here on occasion.
I sat by awkwardly chewing my lunch and staring up at him. After all, I wasn’t on the clock, and he was Naomi’s responsibility. As soon as she saw him, she switched on her swag, beaming up at him through thick-lashed doe eyes, appearing friendly and even a bit flirtatious, despite the fact that he was totally encroaching on our personal space.
“So sorry for the wait—you must be ready for your check, huh?” She batted her big brown eyes at him.
Her efforts, for the most part, seemed to go unnoticed. As far as I could tell, he was looking at me. After a heartbeat, he turned slightly, causing the shadow cast by his hat onto his face to shift. I nearly choked on my sandwich when I saw his eyes. Two dark ebony pools.
“No. Want her,” he said, looking back at me.
She giggled, but it was a forced sound. She was growing uncomfortable now. Impressively, Naomi maintained her casual, playful tone. “I’m sure she’s flattered, but unfortunately we don’t have a to-go box in her size.”
Hygiene-Challenged Dude lunged. He didn’t even bother to warn us. Still, I succeeded in diving out of the way just in time. Naomi vocalized her surprise with a yelp. Glass shattered as my Coke hit the floor, and I was disappointed to see my new admirer had knocked the rest of my meal to the floor as well. A perfectly good half a sandwich gone to waste.
I would have liked to grieve my BLTA a moment longer, but my new boyfriend wouldn’t have it. He came at me again, turning from the table and stomping in my direction. I was both proud and horrified when Naomi jumped on his back. He kept on coming though, like the girl was a human-sized fly—nothing more than a nuisance to him.
He dropped to the hardwood floor, clutching my ankle in his large hands. I kicked out, and made satisfying contact with his nose. There was an audible crack, followed by bright gushing blood. I tried not to gag when some of it got my legs.
Naomi, the champ, still clung to his back like a spider monkey and shouted, “Get the fuck off her!”
He started bucking like a feral horse, until Naomi couldn’t hold on any longer. She lost her grip, and landed some feet away on her butt, letting out a pained cry. My pursuer lunged at me again. I did the only thing I could think of, and grabbed the closest chunk of my broken soda glass I could find. Then, I put it through his hand. Okay, maybe not all the way through, but it protruded grotesquely from his palm.
He yowled.
Just as I was beginning to wonder where the hell everyone else was while we were making all this racket, I heard hurried footsteps coming around the corner. Finally, thank god!
The guy pulled away from me, and grabbed his bleeding, wounded hand, just as Danny rounded the corner at a full sprint. He came to an abrupt halt at seeing the scene before him: two of his waitresses, and a customer sprawled on the floor, blood just about every.
I looked over nervously at my attacker. His eyes were back to normal. And by normal, I mean they no longer held signs of possession. Instead, he was looking at me with murderous rage. I wasn’t sure that was much of an improvement. This wasn’t going to be good.
I was surprised my new admirer hadn’t passed out after the demon had departed. In every situation I’d see, hosts always blacked out. It was more convenient that way, especially because they never remembered it. I wondered if Boyfriend here remembered how he got roughed up. Judging by his rage face, and the fact that he only had eyes for me, it seemed to me like he might have an idea.
“You!” he growled, but he didn’t actually make a move for me this time.
“What the hell happened here?” Danny was white in the face, which shocked me. He’d seen plenty of bar fights in here, and he always handled them gracefully. Apparently this was one situation he didn’t know how to manage.
“I—I…” I didn’t have a good answer.
Thankfully, Naomi saved me. “That man,” she pointed an accusing finger at our bleeding customer, “attacked Viky!”
“Bullshit,” he growled in outraged defiance. “That bitch came at me!”
I gaped. How hard had I kicked him in the face? I didn’t get the feeling he was lying to save his ass. He was genuinely convinced that I’d assaulted him, and he was well beyond pissed about it.
There was another set of pounding footsteps, and Shawn appeared around the corner, coming to a stop beside Danny. He blinked at us, his mouth open in disbelief, at a loss for words.
“Call the cops,” Danny ordered him.
Shawn nodded, looking relieved to have something to do. He took out his cell from his apron pocket, and started dialing.
Naomi got up off her butt, rubbing her tailbone as she walked over to me, helping me to my feet as well. My brain was still trying to catch up. Meanwhile, Danny attended to our battered patron. Normally, I felt bad for those unfortunate enough to become demon vessels, but it was easy enough for me to see past my sympathy with the way my pissed off admirer was giving me the death glare. He looked as dangerous when he was in control as he did when a demon was calling the shots. I was willing to guess American Psycho here walked on the sociopathic side of life.
Danny got him into a booth that was located a safe distance away from our combat zone. He started spouting out words like “lawyer” and “lawsuit”, causing Danny’s face to go from an ash white to stoplight red. My boss looked like he might hemorrhage.
Naomi was shouting at this point, calling him a liar and a psycho. I had no idea what to do at this point—I’d already done enough damage—so I just stood there, watching them all verbally rape each other.
When the police and paramedics finally arrived, they pulled us all aside one at a time to take our formal statements. I kept my statement simple, telling them exactly what had happened. Leaving out the part where my attacker, whose name I was informed was Michael Meyers—I thought the irony was poetic—had been possessed.
Since he had no priors, surprisingly enough, and because even though the cops believed mine and Naomi’s version of events, I didn’t want to press charges, so they let him go. Mr. Meyers didn’t go quietly though, swearing he’d see me in court. His ranting did little to comfort the new customers we’d garnered. Some even left, which was a good thing in Shawn’s case, because he was on a one map and completely on his own.
After everything was wrapped up with the police, Danny had me and Naomi go back with him to his office. Naomi was still fuming, but no worse for the wear. Admittedly, I was a little shaken up. No matter how many times you are jumped by the possessed, you will never get used to it.
“You girls okay?”
I simply nodded.
“Yeah, now that that prick is gone,” Naomi bristled.
“You okay to work?” I noticed Danny had directed that question only to Naomi.
“Please,” she said rolling her eyes, and straightening her apron, “I take on dogs like him on the daily. That was nothin’.” She sounded casual, proud even. Damn. If that was nothing to her, I’d be afraid to see what something looked like.
“Alright, go help Shawn, then. I’m sure he’s drowning out there. Vik, stay, I’d like to speak with you.”
Naomi gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze, and a look that said I’d handled myself well, before she bounded out of Danny’s office. Danny walked over and closed the door behind her. Once we were in private, he walked back over to his desk and leaned against the edge with his arms folded over his chest. He regarded me with an unreadable expression.
Finally, he sighed. “What were you thinking?”
My brows drew together in confusion. “Excuse me?”
He looked thwarted, which wasn’t the reaction I’d expected. Concern or sympathy maybe, but not blatant disappointment. “I’ll admit, he crossed the line coming on to you like that—but honestly, Vik, assaulting a customer like that—”
“Like what?” I exploded, “Like I was trying to protect myself from a two-hundred pound giant who didn’t understand the concept of personal space?”
Oh, yeah. I was fuming! It would be a cold day in Hell before I let my boss give me shit for defending myself. “He was going to kill me!”
He shook his head. “No, Vik. He wasn’t. You were in a public place, with witnesses, in the middle of the day. People don’t go ‘round murderin’ people on their lunches. That man wasn’t ‘bout to kill you.”
“My ass, Danny!” I growled, “You weren’t there, okay? You’ve no idea what he was or wasn’t going to do—you should have seen the way he looked at me.” I was starting to shake, both at the memory, and my growing frustration.
Danny pushed off the desk and covered the few feet that separated us, pulling me into a hug and stroking my hair. I calmed down, but only a little bit.
“Viky,” he said, pulling away just enough to meet my eyes. “I understand you were scared. I’m sure it was very traumatizing, but you can’t go around stabbing people and breaking their noses every time they get a little grabby.”
I yanked out of his hold. I was so entirely furious, and frustrated, I thought I might cry. I never cried. Not when I was scared, or even when I was sad, but something about being so blindly frustrated broke something in me.
“A little grabby? Are you fucking insane, Dan? Didn’t the cops tell you what happened? He fucking charged me! Twice! I was cornered on the fucking floor for Christ’s sake!”
“Shawn and I would’ve taken care of it,” he said, not meeting my eyes.
I was seeing red. “How chivalrous of you,” I snapped. “Only, I’d probably have been dead—or close to it—by then, if I hadn’t taken care of it first.”
He glared, clearly losing his patience with me, and my potty mouth. “Quit over exaggerating.”
“Ha!” My tone was void of all humor. I found nothing remotely funny about this conversation at all. “Right. Thanks for taking me at my word. You’re such a supportive friend. I’m glad you could have my back in times like these,” I spat.
He reacted as if I’d slapped him. Good. He needed to know how much his response to this situation hurt me. “I am your friend—”
“—Right,” I interrupted, “because you’re totally acting like it right now. What the hell is wrong with you?”
“This is my business,” he said in defense. “I can’t afford a lawsuit or a decline in customers because they’re afraid of my staff.”
“Really Dan? Wow. You’d rather I just lay there and take it, huh?”
His face was turning red again. “Of course not! But you didn’t need to go to extremes and shank him, for cryin’ out loud!”
“We’re really having this conversation right now? I can’t believe you’re making me defend my actions—actions I had no choice but to take—after what Naomi and I just went through! You know what? Fuck it. I’m done.”
Danny stared at me for a long moment, an array of emotions passing over his face. I was only slightly appeased to see regret and defeat.
Finally, he nodded once. “It’s probably best you take some time off. Let this all blow over in the meantime.”
“Time off? No Danny. I want a boss who has my back. I’m done, really done. I quit.”
I stormed out of his office before he could wipe off the stunned look on his face. The slight sting of betrayal and remorse I felt was little more than a background noise to my rage. Just as soon as I slammed his office door behind me, my previously unshed tears of frustration began to fall.
Fortunately, the rest of the staff was busy enough with their tables, that I was able to gather up my things without running into anyone. I snuck out the back and climbed into my truck, flooring it out of there.
It wasn’t until I was halfway to Nathan’s that I realized I was out of the job. That also meant I’d be out of income. Sure, I had some inheritance money my parents had left me and Kat, but that wasn’t going to last me forever. I had bills, and an apartment with six months left on the lease. Plus, there was Nathan’s fees to consider.
Fabulous. One more thing to stress over. Just what I needed.