Chapter Fifteen
Oliver
I check the name on the pamphlet again. Moonroot Apothecary. The sign on the small shop in front of me says the same thing.
Nodding, I tuck the pamphlet in my pocket and enter confidently. As I push the glass door open, bells above the door jingle.
The lady behind the desk, wearing a peasant blouse and a flowy skirt, smiles at me. It doesn’t reach her eyes. The shop has ground-to-ceiling shelves, all filled with jars of powders, flowers, and leaves. I ignore them and make a beeline for the woman.
“Hi,” I smile.
“Hi, are you looking for anything particular?” she asks. ”We sell alternative medicines for every ailment. We have crystals, poultice, and stones to deal with aura-related issues, too.”
I had planned to just outrightly ask her about her father, but something stops me. “Actually, someone from my building recommended this shop to me. I was in the neighborhood, so I thought I’d check you guys out,” I lie, putting on my most casual voice.
“Oh yeah? Did they say anything else?” She looks at me with this intense expression, like she’s searching for something.
“Umm, no?” That comes out as uncertain as I feel.
She relaxes again. Or maybe just loses interest because the woman in front of me doesn’t look like she ever relaxes. She’s almost my height, but her muscles are incredibly defined. She’s not Matt-level muscly, but she’s packing some serious guns.
“Alright, do you have anything particular in mind?” she asks.
“My neighbor uses these daisy-scented candles. I think she got them from here?” I say. “She’s your father’s neighbor, so I’m just guessing.” I bring in the casual Oliver again.
Her eyes narrow. “Who sent you here?” she asks, her voice stern.
“Just a neighbor?” Ugh, I’m being suspicious as fuck. “I also thought I’d ask how Dalton is doing. Haven’t seen the man in forever,” I laugh awkwardly.
Her eyes are now slits, and she’s taken a weirdly combative pose. “I haven’t seen Dalton in years,” she finally says. She takes an audible breath in. “Look, if you're not going to buy anything, you should leave.”
A loud noise in the back nearly gives me a heart attack. It also breaks her glare.
“I think we're done talking,” she says, then opens the door behind her and walks into what I assume is a store room.
I’m walking away, defeated, when I hear a low sound of distress. I turn back around and notice the outline of a door on the left wall. Before I can even process what I'm doing, I move towards it.
I push, and it opens easily. Too easily. I look at the other door behind the counter, where the angry lady disappeared off to. It’s a normal wooden door that looks like, you know …a door, not whatever the hell this is.
I can’t hear any noise anymore. I glance at the counter again, no sign of Aurelia. I send a prayer to the universe to keep her in the storage for longer and walk inside.
The door clicks shut behind me, swallowing me in darkness.
My heartbeat picks up, my breathing the only sound in the room. I don’t like darkness. Well, who does? But this darkness is heavy, and the smell of incense and flowers almost feels suffocating.
“Hello?” I whisper. Why the fuck am I whispering?
When no reply comes, I try to open the door.
When I can’t find a knob or handle, I truly start to panic.
Fuck, that woman is definitely going to kill me now.
I distinctly feel like one of the stupid college kids in cliché horror movies who voluntarily walk into the dark basement.
What the fuck were you thinking, Oliver!
Then I remember I have my phone with me. I take it out of my pocket, and suddenly the door jerks open. I yelp before backing off, so it doesn’t hit me in the face.
I run out before I can even see who saved me. It’s a good thing I do because the man seems like he was moving to block me. I walk backwards until I’m safely away from the scary fucking room, assessing my savior.
He doesn’t look happy about the role. The guy is a literal mountain. Almost as tall and big as Matt. If he wanted to keep me inside, I wouldn’t have made it out.
“What were you doing there?” his rough voice booms.
“I thought I heard a cat,” I laugh awkwardly. God, what’s up with me today!
He tilts his head. “A cat, huh? Have you heard what happens to curious cats?” he asks ominously.
I laugh awkwardly. Again. “Good one,” I say. There are absolute zero signs of humor on his face. I start walking backwards towards the exit, oddly scared to turn my back to him.
I’m almost at the door when I practically slam into the woman from earlier.
I’m suddenly sweating under my thin jacket. “It's hot here, isn't it?” I say to the woman who’s blocking the door completely.
“Who sent you?” she repeats, ignoring my effort to make small talk. Generally, I like people who get straight to the point. Not today.
“Why would anyone send me here?” I ask, genuinely confused.
“I didn’t know WRB is hiring humans now, too,” the man’s voice says from behind me. He sounds closer.
A jolt runs down my spine, and the hair on the back of my neck stands in attention. My mind stops processing their words. I have just one focus. Get the fuck out of here right fucking now.
I look behind the woman. The pavement looks oddly empty for early evening. Where are the people of Los Angeles?
The man must have detected my intention. “You should have stayed inside that little room, boy. Might have improved your chances of leaving,” he casually comments.
I’m going to die today, aren’t I? And why did he call me ‘boy’? Come on, I have a respectable stubble going! I can even grow a beard if I’m okay with looking like a patchy, unkempt person for a few weeks.
Not the time, Oliver.
“I’m sure there's been a misunderstanding. I just wanted to check if Dalton’s okay. I don't need anything else,” I try.
The woman doesn't look convinced. She glares up at me through her lashes. Maybe they’re angry because I didn’t buy anything? I would hate it if a customer wasted so much of my time without making any purchase. But enough to kill them? Probably not.
Maybe it’s just their sales technique. Doubt they get a ton of repeat customers.
I turn to pick up the first thing from the shelf. I immediately regret my decision when I hear a low growl coming from behind.
The man suddenly looks a lot more intimidating, which I didn’t even know was possible.
“You’d be a nice little message to them to leave us the fuck alone,” he scowls.
Yeah, this is not fun and games anymore.
The woman’s eyes are now a lighter shade of brown than before. Right in front of me, they’ve turned almost golden brown. Are they shining? Oh my God, what is wrong with Dalton's family?
I take a step back, self-preservation finally kicking in.
She takes a step towards me.
Suddenly, I hear bells, and a woman in a business suit stands at the door. I don't wait for her to speak or for anyone else to react. I just make a run for it. I don't even look back.
When I’m in my car, I hit the accelerator hard. My car makes an uneasy sound.
Once I’m in traffic, I relax enough to breathe. My heart is still going a mile a minute. What the fuck just happened? Were they going to kill me? Why? Were they that worried about Dalton's drug problem?
Come on, Oliver, think.
It's clearly not as simple as that. There’s something deep there. Maybe they’re drug peddlers? They sell some kind of special drug that causes crazy changes in human anatomy? That's why Dalton looked the way he did?
Whatever the reason, I know I wasn’t supposed to make it out alive.
Christmas-lit streets of LA blur past my window. And somewhere between the glowing storefronts, I decide I’m done.
Maybe I’ll never get a decent night of sleep ever again.
Maybe I’ll never figure out what I saw that day.
But some things are just meant to remain a mystery.
I’m clearly way in over my head. I’m not even curious anymore.
I don't care why an eighty-year-old man was running like he wasn’t even human.
Why my body froze when I saw him. What this small hippie shop is hiding.
Even though I’m now certain his eyes glowed.
I am truly, once and for all, done.
I park my car in the basement and take the elevator to my floor. My heart is still racing. I’m scared. I’m shivering.
When I’m in front of my door, I don’t even think before I turn right and knock.
Matt opens the door right away. Concern written all over his face. I can only assume what he saw, but he’s suddenly in my space. His hands cup my face. “Are you okay?”
He's close. So close. I can smell his body wash. It soothes me a little. His hands move slowly over my body, assessing. A stark reminder of how he treated me when he saw me standing in this very hallway that day.
“Talk to me, Oliver,” he almost pleads.
I breathe out. His hands burn paths on my arms.
So many emotions are radiating off of him. He looks worried, scared, confused, and angry all at the same time.
“I'm okay.” I’m not okay. Not okay at all. Not even a little bit. I move further into his space until we’re sharing the same air.
I guess I’ll be okay.
I close the gap between us. When our lips touch, he’s hesitant, but I don't give him a chance to back off. I need this right now. After a moment, his lips move tentatively over mine.
The kiss starts slow, just lips familiarizing themselves again. Lazy strokes. Soft caresses. Then his tongue seeks permission, and I open my mouth, letting him take over.
My breathing slows, and I’m not shivering anymore. My heart is still fighting for survival, though.
He takes a few steps back, pulling me with him. I realize we were full-on making out in the hallway. Then my back hits the wall, and the door slams shut.
He cages me in, his tongue tasting me, swallowing me, consuming me.
He pulls back a little. “You're okay. You're okay,” he repeats, breathing heavily.
“I'm okay.” I nod. And now, I truly am.