Chapter 5
JENNA
Five minutes after Mr. Cahoon leaves, I hear engines rumbling, and my eyes snap to the road.
When a whole group of bikes pulls into the gas station, my heartbeat sets off at a wild pace, hammering against my ribs. My breaths speed up, and I freeze where I’m sitting, my wide gaze locked on the men.
I watch as Derek lights a cigarette, then he laughs at something Wayne says, and when Kirk joins them and they begin to walk toward the store, my body chills, and dread pours through my soul.
No. Go away.
I’m a trembling mess by the time the three men enter the store, and while Kirk and Derek go to the fridges, Wayne stops at the counter and smiles at me.
“How’s my favorite cunt? Missed me?”
My breaths saw audibly over my dry lips as I wrap my arms around my middle while ducking my head low and curling my shoulders forward.
They all start to laugh, and when Wayne’s fingers brush against my arm, I yank backward and collide with the shelves behind me.
Not caring about the store, I run to the end of the counter and through the room where everything is stored, and into the small toilet. I slam the door shut and quickly lock it, then brace my hands against the door in case they try to kick it down.
“Oh, come on, sweet cheeks. Don’t ruin the fun,” I hear Wayne shout while it sounds like they're trashing the store.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are, little whore,” Derek calls out. “Or I’ll huff and I’ll puff.”
“The bitch is the one who should be huffing and puffing on our dicks,” Kirks says before laughing loudly.
Eventually, the noise dies down, then I hear the bikes start and their engines rumbling as they drive away.
Slowly, I unlock the door and pull it open until I’m able to peek through a slit, and not seeing anyone, I cautiously creep out of my hiding spot.
When I step into the doorway between the store and the storage room, I still don’t see anyone. I take in the mess, packets of candy, chips, and cookies lying scattered all over the floor.
I glance at the counter and see a few dollars lying near my phone.
At least they didn’t take my phone.
Feeling completely rattled, I begin to clean up.
“What happened?” Mr. Oliveira suddenly asks right behind me, scaring the crap out of me.
I let out a shriek and scurry to the other side of the store, putting a row of shelves between us. When my wide gaze lands on him, I see a dark frown forming on his forehead while a dangerous expression settles over his face.
He looks terrifying as he glances at the mess I still have to clean up, then his eyes flick to me. His voice is nothing but a low rumble as he asks, “What happened here, Jenna?”
I need to calm down. He’s my favorite customer, and I don’t want to freak him out.
I shake my head as I carefully move back to where the packets are lying on the floor, and as I continue to place everything back on the shelf, Mr. Oliveira doesn’t move and keeps looking at me.
“Can you talk?” he suddenly asks.
I nod, my hands trembling as I place the final packet in its place.
Wrapping my arms around my middle, I bring my shoulders up as I head back to the counter, but as I come out of the aisle between the shelves, he places his hand on my shoulder.
A whimper escapes me, and unable to stop myself, I dart for the exit and rush out of the store.
I suck in deep breaths of air, and when a sob bursts from me, I keep walking to the side of the building where I crouch down. I rest my forehead against my palm while doing my best to calm down.
Why did they have to come tonight?
I was looking forward to seeing Mr. Oliveira. The third time he came in, I grew a brain and looked for his name on his credit card.
Mr. E Oliveira.
Closing my eyes, I focus on taking deeper breaths, but then a shadow falls over me, and as my eyes pop open again, I see Mr. Oliveira crouching in front of me.
His expression isn’t as severe, and instead, he gives me a gentle look.
“Would you like me to take you home?” he asks.
I shake my head, and as I gather the courage to look at his face, my lips part, but I can’t make the words come out.
Tonight I wanted to say hi to him. Just hi. But then the bikers showed up, and three of my rapists had to taunt me.
Slowly, he reaches out to me, and I freeze. I don’t even take a breath as he gently places his palm against my cheek. He tilts his head, his golden-brown gaze staring deep into mine.
“If you need anything, you can ask me,” he murmurs.
I’ll never be able to do that. I feel my face growing warm as a blush creeps up my neck.
“And if you’re in trouble, I can help.”
No, he can’t. No one can help me.
I climb to my feet and walk back to the store, just as Muriel’s car turns into the gas station.
If I tell anyone about Wayne, Derek, and Kirk, they’ll kill me and the person I ask for help. The MC club has gotten away with murder before, and they’ll get away with it again.
I hurry to the cash register, and as Muriel comes into the store, I grab a box of cigarettes and place it on the worn wooden counter.
She glances around, then asks, “Where is the hot guy. That’s his SUV right?”
I glance out the windows, and seeing the dent on the back door, but no sign of Mr. Oliveira, I frown while shrugging at Muriel.
She places the cash down and picks up her cigarettes. “See you tomorrow.” When she leaves the store, she glances to her left, then comes to a stop. “Oh, hi there. I’ve seen you here a couple of times. Are you new in town?”
“You could say that,” Mr. Oliveira replies, then he appears right outside the window.
I stare at him as Muriel says, “A bunch of us are hanging out at a friend’s house. Want to come? It will be a great way to meet some of the folks in town.”
There’s a flash of annoyance on his face. “I’m not interested.” He comes into the store, not paying Muriel any further attention.
She shakes her head before she walks toward her sedan.
When I gather the bills from the counter, I notice a plastic container. I place the cash in the register, wondering whose it is.
Mr. Oliveira gets a bottle of water and brings it to the counter. He stopped buying coffee two nights ago. He sets the bottle down, then pushes the container closer to me.
“I made extra and thought you might like some.”
Surprised, I hesitate before I lift the lid enough to see inside. It’s stacked full of golden-fried pasties.
“It’s a Portuguese dish,” he informs me. “Try one.”
They look yummier than anything I’ve had since Mom and Aunt Sherrie moved away. I can’t resist and carefully pick up one of the half-moon-shaped pastries. I sniff first, and when it smells delicious, I take a small bite.
It’s crispy, and tasting chicken and mushrooms, I almost let out a moan.
God. So good.
I take a much bigger bite and quickly devour the entire thing.
When I wipe my fingertips on my shirt, my eyes move from the container to Mr. Oliveira, whose breaths are coming faster. There’s a look that can only be described as desire on his face, and it makes the alarm bells go off inside my head.
For the longest moment, he stares at me, and I experience a weird mixture of feeling flattered and utterly self-conscious.
My heartbeat speeds up again, but this time it isn’t just out of fear but anticipation as well.
Then he breaks eye contact as he removes his credit card out of his wallet. Not thinking, my arm darts out, and I place my hand on his to stop him.
I shake my head to indicate I don’t want him to pay, and as tingles race up my arm, I slowly pull away.
He moves fast and captures my hand, but his hold isn’t tight. Then his thumb brushes over my skin, making more tingles scatter through me like little fireworks.
A kaleidoscope of butterflies erupts in my stomach, and more nervous energy pours into my chest.
“Jenna.” He waits for me to lift my gaze to his, then he says, “I want you to think of me as a friend.”
The corner of my mouth lifts slightly, but I’m too anxious to smile.
When he lets go of my hand, I quickly pull back and form fists to hide my nails that have been bitten to the quick.
He taps the lid of the container. “Eat everything. Okay?”
I nod and pull it closer to me. My lips part to thank him, but all that comes out is a puff of air before my throat threatens to close up.
Mr. Oliveira takes the bottle of water and begins to walk away, but he stops by the open door and glances back at me. “Have a good night, Jenna. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
This time, I’m able to smile, even though it's shaky.
He looks at me as if I’m from a different planet, and the smile dies on my lips. I bow my head, my fingers curling around the sides of the container.
I hear his footsteps as he walks away, and soon after, the SUV’s door shuts.
I peek up from between my bangs, and like every other night, he doesn’t drive away immediately.
I don’t know what he does in the SUV, but knowing he won’t come into the store again tonight, I sit down on the stool and exhale a heavy breath.
As I stare at the container holding the delicious pastries, I wonder why he brought them to me. It’s not like we know each other. I mean, I haven’t even talked to him.
Still, I feel grateful because he thought of me, and I’m too poor to look a gift horse in the mouth.
My thoughts turn to before Mr. Oliveira got here, and just thinking of Derek, Wayne, and Kirk makes me feel as if the weight of the entire world rests on my shoulders.
Lifting my hand to my mouth, I begin to chew on my thumbnail.
I know I should be thankful they don’t come to this gas station often, but I wish they’d stay away altogether. I hate seeing them, and they always taunt me.
I’m scared they’ll rape me again. Or worse. Kill me.
God, I hate my life.
I wish… I just wish things would get better.
Please let me win the lottery so I can move away from Aurora.
I still won’t be able to go to Mom and Aunt Sherrie, though. No amount of money in the world will erase the hell those men inflicted on me that night.
But it sure would make life easier.