CHAPTER SIX
RIPLEY
I really did not want to go into work tonight. Even though I’d slept most of the afternoon away, I didn’t have the energy to put on a smile and play the courteous server. Working for tips fucking sucked.
Coming down from a night of drugs and alcohol sucked too.
I felt especially blah. Like I would’ve been happy to stay in bed all night and stare at the ceiling.
I only got this shitty job in the first place because of my mother.
She was too strung out to pay her own bills, forcing me to come up with the money instead.
Now that I no longer lived with her, I needed the money even more.
While getting ready, I played some music on my phone in an attempt to perk up my mood. Instead, it only made me feel more depressed about my circumstances. Even though I knew some of my mood was an after effect of last night’s drug use, I couldn’t shake the storm cloud that hung over me.
Needing something to help me get through the night, I popped two more pills, frowning into the bottle. I was running low again.
Turning my attention back to my reflection in the mirror, I applied some light eyeshadow in neutral colors, followed by a coat of mascara. A dusting of blush to bring some color into my cheeks.
My boss preferred that we wore our hair up, so I grabbed my blonde locks and twisted them up in a hair clip. We didn’t have uniforms at work but were always expected to wear a black skirt or pants with a white top. Simple enough.
Standing there in my underwear before getting dressed, I glanced down at the healing cuts on my thigh.
I hated the way my gaze strayed to the razor blade tucked into my makeup bag.
Needing to relax, knowing that it would at least give me a brief reprieve from the tension inside, I reached for the blade.
I took a seat on the edge of the tub, my pulse kicking up a notch as I pressed the blade against my skin.
Right beneath the last cut from a few days ago.
I tried not to do this too often. Sometimes I just needed to let out the pressure building inside me, and this was the only way that made me feel like I could breathe again for a while.
Both of my thighs were marked in scars. High enough to easily be hidden by a skirt.
Most of them had faded to a pale white. I’d started doing this several years ago when my mom really went downhill with her addiction.
Then I’d quit for a while, burying the urge deep inside until recently.
Mom had gotten worse. Treating me like utter shit.
It helped me cope. Now that I was away from her, I wanted to stop. Sometimes it was so hard to resist.
Every time I cut myself, watching the blood well up, I promised myself this was the last time. And I meant it too. Until the next time.
As my skin split open, I sucked in a deep breath, releasing it on a sigh. The rush of endorphins combined with the pills making their way through my system brought me a sense of calm and euphoria like no other. The perfect combination.
After the shallow cut stopped bleeding, I carefully cleaned it before getting dressed. I worked the six hour shift tonight. From six to midnight. Saturday nights were always busy. Hopefully it would go fast.
The apartment was empty when I left. Athena had gone over to Luna’s to watch a movie. I envied her ability to do whatever she wanted. My student loans didn’t cover living expenses. Mostly because I’d been living at home when I enrolled in school.
By the time I got into my little gray Honda, I was feeling a lot better. A little high. Nothing too crazy. Just enough to keep me light on my feet and feeling good throughout the evening.
Did I have an addiction? Maybe. If I were being totally honest with myself. I knew that opioids were addictive. My reliance on them was unhealthy, yet I didn’t consider it to be a problem. Not yet.
I figured it could’ve been worse. I wasn’t strung out like my mom who could barely keep her eyes open or form a coherent sentence most days. She took anything and everything. She’d been that way since my dad walked out, leaving the two of us alone eight years ago.
Looking back, I didn’t blame him for leaving her. However, I did blame him for leaving me. He called on holidays and birthdays, sending the occasional check. It didn’t make up for his absence, and I would never forgive him for that.
“Hi, Ripley, how is your day going?” Darla, the restaurant’s hostess, greeted me with a big smile as I entered the building. “I love your necklace.”
I reached out to touch the teardrop shaped amethyst pendant that hung from a silver chain around my neck. It had been a gift from my grandmother before she passed. I still missed her every day.
“Thank you, Darla.” I returned her bright smile. She was one of my favorite coworkers. Always ready with a smile and some friendly words.
Just a few years older than my twenty-two years, Darla possessed a mature vibe that made her the mother hen of me and my fellow employees. Always looking out for us. Checking in to make sure we were all right. I truly appreciated her.
Her ginger hair was swept back in a sleek ponytail. She wore a black dress with a white cardigan over top. Standing at the hostess podium, ready to seat customers. I had no idea how she always seemed so put together and happy to be here. I had to fake it through every second.
The evening started off typical enough. I served families, couples on a date night, and the occasional friend group. For the most part, everything went smoothly. Back and forth to the kitchen. Carrying food and drinks while expertly managing to juggle the dishware.
The night took an unfortunate turn when I returned to my section to find Jamie seated at one of the tables. He perused the menu, acting like a typical customer, even though he was anything but. Son of a bitch.
Seeing him sitting there like he had every right to accost me at work made me want to dump a pot of hot coffee over his head. Somehow, I managed to resist, with great difficulty. I stormed over to his table, pasting a fake smile onto my face.
“What can I get for you?” I stood there ready to take his order, refusing to acknowledge him in any way other than as a customer.
Jamie glanced up at me, a wide smile taking over his face. “Hello to you too. I don’t know why you feel the need to play these games with me, Ripley. I know you’re not dating that fuck ass criminal from campus.”
Gritting my teeth, I repeated, “What can I get for you?”
“Wow, so you really want to play this game, huh?” Jamie glanced down at the menu. “That’s fine. Just means I’ll be here longer.”
“I really don’t care. You’re nothing but a customer to me. I’m just doing my job.” Tapping my foot impatiently against the tiled floor, I stared at him like he was nobody. Simply another customer.
“Fine. I’ll get the steak, medium rare, with garlic mashed potatoes and roasted vegetables. And a tall glass of Coke.” He slammed the menu shut, slapping it down on the table in front of me.
With a roll of my eyes, I scooped it up and walked away without another word. I wasn’t wasting my customer service energy on him. When I returned a few minutes later with his Coke, I placed it in front of him and promptly turned away.
“If I’m just another customer, don’t I deserve the same treatment? You were a lot nicer to that table over there.” Jamie nodded toward a table occupied by a family of six.
“That’s because they didn’t come in here to harass me,” I responded, short and sharp. “Keep this shit up Jamie and I’ll have my manager ban you from this establishment.”
I felt his dark stare follow me as I walked away. Trying my best to pretend he wasn’t there, I continued my rounds. Visiting each table in my section, checking in on everyone. Making sure they were enjoying their meals.
The last thing I wanted to do was bring this to the manager’s attention.
He wasn’t the easiest person to talk to and would most likely hold it against me for making trouble.
I kept telling myself I would find a better job elsewhere, but I’d been here long enough now that I’d fallen into a routine.
It had become comfortable. Until Jamie started showing up.
Finally, I had a few minutes to myself. I slipped away down the long hallway that led to the restrooms, hoping for a few minutes to breathe. After using the facilities and washing my hands, I simply took a moment to be alone.
Staring into the mirror, I adjusted the scarf I had tied around my neck, making sure none of the marks from last night showed. My boss would have a fit if any of the customers saw.
After promising myself that I would check out the job listings online after my shift, I left the restroom and walked straight into Jamie who lurked in the hallway outside the door. I made no attempt to hide my irritation.
“What are you doing here? Go back to your table.” Keeping my voice low so it wouldn’t travel down the hall into the restaurant, I tried to shove past him.
He grabbed hold of my arm, jerking me to a halt. His fingers dug into my skin, hard enough to leave bruises. “Why are you such a tease? I’m starting to think you enjoy leading me on. I’m really getting sick of girls like you.”
In no mood to have this conversation with him again, I tried to pull my arm from his grasp. That only made him squeeze tighter. I let out a little squeak of pain.
“Let go of me,” I demanded. “I have a job to do. I’m not going to keep repeating myself to you, Jamie. We went out a few times. There was no spark. Shit happens. Get over it.”
“Get over it?” he repeated. “You really are just like all the rest. A bunch of cock teasing bitches.”
The menacing glint in his eyes kept me from telling him exactly what kind of guy I thought he was. He was starting to scare me. And he was hurting me.
“Please let go of my arm,” I said as calmly as possible. “You’re hurting me.”
His smile became downright creepy. “This is nothing. You’ll know when I hurt you.”
I opened my mouth, ready to scream for help. Before I got a sound out, Auryn was there, appearing at the end of the hall like a warrior angel come to save me. He didn’t hesitate. Taking a few steps toward us, his fist was already in motion. Slamming into the side of Jamie’s head.
Jamie’s grip on my arm loosened. Auryn grabbed him by the back of the neck, giving him a violent shake before dragging him away. “I think you and I need to have a little talk outside.”