The word 'clitoris' is Greek for 'divine and goddess like.'
Evelyn's p.o.v
As I made my way through the café, my attention was instantly caught on a small table near the front window. The wooden table was occupied by three guys who looked physically to be in their mid-twenties but something about the dangerous vibe they gave off told me they could easily be older.
As I approached the table with a collection of menus shoved beneath my left arm, a notepad and pen held under the right, I stifled a gasp. They were beautiful. Not the word I would normally use to describe dangerous looking men, but no other word would do them justice as they seemed to glow in an almost otherworldly manner. Glow sticks had nothing on them. I suddenly felt incredibly silly and ungraceful in my skates as I clambered toward them, bambi-on-ice style.
"Good morning and welcome to Koffie Botanique, what drinks can I get you? Will you be needing menus today?" My voice was steady but my hands were anything but as the fake Norwegian twang entered my voice, a safety caution I took when talking to new people. I could escape my past by preventing anyone knowing where I actually came from. Steadying my hands on the table for balance as I passed them some menus to flick through, I couldn't stop thinking: Why couldn't it be Olivia serving?
"I'd like to get a taste of you if that's on the menu?" The man closest to me rose an amused eyebrow at his friend opposite and it felt like I was missing some inside joke, other than the obvious sexual innuendo. I brushed a strand of dark hair behind my ear and waited for him to give an appropriate reply.
"Give it a rest Lewis, not now." The man across from him ordered with a stern look, his voice thick with an accent I couldn't quite place. Lewis looked as though he wasn't quite finished but quickly stopped in his tracks upon hearing his friend's comment.
"Yeah, sorry Luca." He muttered, his voice low and breathy. How strange, it was almost like watching a small child being scolded by their teacher. Only his teacher was a wet dream of a man. Luca's face was all hard lines and high cheekbones, with such a prominent jawline I swear he must've been handcrafted by the NASA engineering team itself because he was quite literally out of this world.
Okay, I needed to focus. Stop staring at the man with piercing blue eyes and imagining what's beneath his t-shirt...
"Sorry, I'm not on the menu schat, but I can get you a coffee?" I was used to getting hit on at work as the tiny, burgundy skirt often attracted unwanted attention from easily excited tourists. The brunette man who I now knew as Luca then glanced up at me, his eyes boring into mine with a strange intensity that eventually caused me to look away. I wasn't sure what was going on but it was making me beyond uncomfortable. Luca then shook his head lightly before rubbing his eyes and glancing to his companion opposite, who looked equally as perplexed by the whole situation.
"No sugar and a splash of milk please, love." Lewis looked confused that I had managed to break the eye contact with his friend, my face currently buried in the white pages of my notepad as I scribbled down his order. I'm sure that Luca doesn't usually get turned down with eyes and a face like that.
"Do I know you from somewhere? Have we met before?" Luca then asked me as I looked up again to take his order. My eyes dropped to meet his steady gaze and I froze at his questions. I must know him from somewhere because the way he looked not at me but into me, had me grounded to the spot like an anchor finding a sunken seabed.
He looked far too young to be one of my clients and I only had a rota of four or so men that I trusted; he was definitely not one of them. My past was littered with bad memories and even worse men, people that used and abused me for what they wanted and then left. I constantly tried to forget my start in life, everything except for Hope.
"No, you must be mistaken." I replied in my normal voice, quickly avoiding further eye contact with him and trying not to think too much about my slip up with the Norwegian accent. Crap. "Can I get you a coffee too, schat?"
Luca simply nodded his head but those curious, striking eyes never left mine. He had dark hair that was unruly and untamed in a just-fucked way, with glassy blue eyes that matched his companions in depth. His mouth was a thin line that stood out against his pale complexion and high cheekbones.
He was truly stunning and if I had the time or money to date men again, I would most definitely be inclined to date him.
"Would you like milk with that?" I swallowed, trying to avoid his intense gaze.
"Please."
Not wanting to linger at their table any longer than necessary, I quickly took the last order and tried not to slip up with the accent again. They were all watching me with mixed expressions and although I prided myself with an unmatched ability to read people, I was struggling to even get past the prologue with them.
"I'll be back with your drinks in just a second." I was gone before the last word was even out, wanting to put as much distance between myself and the weird atmosphere at the table as humanly possible. They seemed different, an untouchable and dangerous kind of beauty. The kind one should steer far away from.
On the way back from their table, I bumped into a small figure from just behind. Spinning around I came face to face with a small girl who possessed a large mass of frizzy blonde hair and deep blue eyes that instantly made me envious. Her face lifted up to mine and a familiar wide smile beamed up at me.
"The regular?" I swerved around her small frame and continued toward the counter to grab the pre-prepared paper bag which I filled every morning with a chocolate chip cookie and fresh sandwich. Annie would always sit outside the café doors, constantly looking to ask our customers for their unwanted scraps, until I started working here. I saw the poor kid, no older than twelve, and knew I had to do something to help out the girl who reminded me so much of my younger self.
"Whisky. Neat." Annie slapped her hand down on the counter with a cheeky grin, gaining my attention and causing me to shake my head.
Typical.
"Milkshake. Cold." I deadpanned, pouring her a large cup of milkshake because she hated coffee. She also hated when I pretended not to know her real age, which only made me tease her about it every time. "This isn't a bar and besides you're like what, Seven?"
"I'm thirteen in two months actually." She informed me with a serious look. It made me happy to see her looking so much better than she had when we'd first initially met. Now instead of her sitting outside the store and begging for scraps, I payed for her sandwich and even sneaked an extra drink and cookie in too, hoping that my boss wouldn't notice the missing items. I'd been stealthily sneaking food from the café for over five months now and so far it had gone undetected.
"Chocolate chip?" She took the paper bag from me and opened up the top, taking a peep inside and inhaling the chocolatey scent with a cheeky grin I'd come to appreciate, so much better than the starving child that had broken my heart to see every morning.
I knew her mum struggled to support her kids and even sometimes saw her trying to find a job at Alicia's strip cub. Stripping was a job that payed well but it came with a shelf life and after a certain age it became harder and harder to compete with what the younger dancers had to offer. It was sad, but it was life.
"Of course, double chocolate with extra chips. You can't get better than that." I slid her milkshake across the counter and waited until she had picked it up to open up the cashier and slip a €5 note into the till. It wasn't enough to cover all the food but it was all I had to offer.
"Love you Evie." She gave me a tight hug, small arms wrapping around my waist and I gave her a quick hug back, aware of Olivia's keen eyes watching our interaction and assessing what was going on.
"You too Annie, now hurry out of here before someone catches on to us." I sent her a quick wink and Annie skipped to the doorway, slurping on her milkshake all the way. The door chimed upon her exit and after a blur of blonde hair slid out the exit.
I glanced over my shoulder at the three men still sat before the window, finding myself intrigued by their strange banter and the dangerous vibe they gave off. The man sitting closest to the window caught me watching them and when our eyes locked, my stomach lurched. His handsome dark hair and sapphire blue eyes reminded me of the princes I saw in fairytales when I was younger. I quickly turned away from the store front upon realising my mistake, forcing myself to disappear into the kitchen like my ass was on fire.
A girl like me could not fantasise about fairytale princes who would ride in on a white horse to save the day. Although upon further inspection, the man looked more like the villain of the story; the devil who'd chose a black horse and a crown of thorns over the typical stereotype. And yet somehow, I preferred it.
I busied myself with making drinks in the back while trying to shake off my banging hangover from the night before. The first thing I did was take off the damned skates, opting instead for black pumps until my boss came in at midday. It was only Olivia and I running the café until the chef started cooking hot food at noon.
The last thing I needed was another spillage accident, especially after I'd had my job threatened upon showering a woman with milkshake on her way to work. Said woman didn't arrive at the office in her usual white work blouse that day, more of a strawberry pink... It hadn't been one of my finer moments I must admit and I'd immediately begged Adam for skating help upon getting home.
Wanting to forget about the strange way the men had looked at me, along with the constant, throbbing need for a booze-induced buzz, I tried to distract myself with work. A drink or six had become a regular occurrence in my nightly routine and despite Adam's concern, I had no intention of changing it. Mixers were how the night started and straight spirits were how I chose to pass out at the end.
I didn't want to think about my dependence on liquor, or anything really, until I heard commotion coming from the front of the café. The raised voices peaked my attention and I quickly slipped away from the back kitchen to see what was going on. I peeked my head around the corner and found myself speechless at the sight before me.
"Get down on the fucking floor!"
I spun back against the wall, out of sight of the beautiful blonde man stood atop a table near the far window. The exact table I was serving only a few minutes ago was now vacated and the two other men were pacing the room with lethal precision, a gun pointed at the fearful residents inside the café. I caught a steady breath and tried to stay silent. No one had seen me back here and the chef was never in this early, leaving me all alone.
"No one needs to get unnecessarily hurt here." I heard a stern voice tell the café, the same one that had asked only moments ago if he knew me from somewhere else. Luca. I knew it was a bad idea to install an ATM cash machine inside the shop, it was surely just asking for trouble. "There is only one person who needs to die here so let's keep it at that, yeah?"
Die?
I began to glance around at my surroundings. There was the phone we used to order supplies just across from me. I could call 999... but I didn't. There was no point even trying when they would easily hear from only a few feet away. Instead, I tried to edge my way toward the back door leading to the terraced garden without a sound. I was a good climber and the ivy there seemed no thinner than the vines on my own apartment. There was a better chance of me finding help out on the street than risking a loud phone call.
I was nearly at the door when something stopped me and all too soon I realized that something was a tight fist around my wrist. Shit, that's probably not good, right? My heart thumped hard against my chest as I came face to face with a beautiful yet lethal face.
"Did you really think you could hide away back here and no one would notice?" The familiar brunette sent a cruel smile my way and I couldn't help but stare at the sleek, black gun in his hand, up close it looked far less scary, almost toy-like. Although, I'd seen the movies and I knew how heavy it really was. My uncle had warned me all about how dangerous guns could be.
"Do it."
Those lethal, beautiful eyes shifted back to mine again with curiosity. I didn't know where the courage came from but something about the gun in his hand fascinated me and I had this strange gut feeling that he wouldn't use it against me; that he didn't really want to. Luca's eyes searched mine again with that same undressing intensity but when nothing happened he let out an irritated noise, his eyes softening just a little.
"Have you been infected? Are you a survivor?" He asked. His head cocked to one side in confusion before he placed the cold barrel right between my brows. I could practically taste the adrenaline coursing through me but as normal, there was no fear. Never fear. So I smiled a maddening, tooth filled grin straight at him and began to laugh.
"Go on, do it." I whispered again, daring him. I don't know where it came from or why I was pushing what was clearly a mad man, to shoot me. I'm well educated and don't have a death wish but I couldn't control the words leaving my mouth on instinct. "But you won't, will you?"
The barrel of the gun dropped away from my face and Luca simply stepped back, his gaze roaming over my face with caution before he sighed and turned back to the café. His voice was low and dark, his body still so close to mine that I could smell his cedar wood and citrous aftershave.
"Everyone out, now. Forget you've seen anything unusual here." There was a moment of silence before people began scrambling desperately for the exit. Tables and chairs screeched across the wooden flooring as a stampede of panicked bodies rushed forward for safety.
"Can we speed things up here, Luca?" The man on the other side of the café turned to look at where Luca stood before me with an irritated look. He had a thick English accent. "We don't have time to tie up loose ends here."
As I glanced around the café, it became rather apparent that I was going to be the last person to leave if I didn't start walking pronto.
"Hey princess," I turned to the sarcastic voice behind me with a frown set deep into my lips. "You planning on hanging around for the show?" Luca was leaning against the far wall, arms crossed against his chest in a casual gesture but there was nothing casual about the predatory grin on his lips. Nothing at all.
I opened my mouth to reply but stopped upon realising that I wasn't the only person left in the cafe with the three men. A tall, imposing man casted in shadows with dreadlocks and a face of stone was kneeling before the other two men, his steady gaze focused upon the floor. However, as I continued to look at him, his gaze rose to mine. I stifled a gasp as his dark eyes met mine with such deep sorrow. He shook his head so subtly it was almost unnoticeable unless you were looking for it, which I guess was his intention.
He was telling me to leave before I didn't get the chance to.
"I-I'm just leaving now. I didn't see anything here." I stuttered, my feet carrying me to the door where safety was looming just beyond the glass windows. It was a far cry from the truth but the pained, desperate look in the man's eyes from the floor had me practically sprinting for the door.
"Correct answer, now scam." Luca pushed off the wall, his tall frame looming closer as I began to bee-line for the double doors. The difference in temperature hit me as soon I stepped out the doors in a welcome rush, but not even the notion of being out of the café could dull the distinct sound of a gun shot. I risked a glance over my shoulder just in time to see the man with dreadlocks slump to the floor at the feet of the three men.
My mouth dropped open at the slight but not before my eyes met Luca's through the window. His curious gaze roamed over me and in that instant he knew I'd seen too much, knew I wouldn't just forget what I had witnessed as they'd ordered everyone to do. I watched his mouth open to say something to his companions but I quickly turned my head. I should call the police, should do something but as I glanced around me, everyone else was continuing to walk past the café alongside the canal as though nothing had happened. No one else seemed to have heard the gun shot or knew where the sound had come from.
Not even bothering to wait for the tram, I instead decided to jog home rather than stay still for a second longer, wanting as much distance between myself and the three men as possible. This was why I should have taken my bike. I would've been home in half the time.
What the fuck did I just do? Why couldn't I just walk away without looking back like everyone else?
A/N-
QOTD:WHAT WERE THE LAST TWO BOOKS YOU READ? I need recommendations pls xo