Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
“Do you want to know who my Secret Santa is?”
I arch an unamused eyebrow at Charlie as he polishes some drinking glasses next to me behind the bar.
“I distinctly remember you telling us to keep our Secret Santa a secret,” I remind him.
“We don’t count, Allie Cat. We’re best friends.”
Jada’s words hit me again.
Sometimes we need to be a bit brave in order to get what we want.
She promised to keep me updated on George Eden and any other articles that could arise in the upcoming weeks, but so far nothing new has come up. It doesn’t ease the anxiety clinging to my chest every second of every hour.
I also can’t deny that our conversation opened up something not entirely comfortable in me.
What do I want?
That’s a question I haven’t allowed myself to answer in a long time. Before, what I wanted was to get away and start anew. But now that I’ve done that—or I’m trying to—I want to find a further meaning to my existence. A meaning that includes a bit of that calm and happiness I’ve always longed for.
I look at Charlie, Jude, and Sandra, who have treated me with so much kindness from the start, and I find that I want to get closer to them. I want to go out with Charlie and his friends, tag along with Jude and Sandra to visit their grandson, experience new things.
My gaze shifts to Travis, who’s tidying up the bar before we close for the night.
And fine, I want to get closer to him too. He’s still my boss, and he’ll never be interested in me in the same way I’m pathetically interested in him, but it doesn’t matter. When we played darts a few nights ago, I had a great time. And I know he did, too, if only because Travis is never where he doesn’t want to be.
I’m not ready to tell any of them the truth. Maybe I’ll never be. But I’m ready to take a small step toward that calm, happy life I so desperately crave.
“We are best friends.” I finally concede what my heart has known for a long time now, earning me a smirk from Charlie. “But I don’t want to know who your Secret Santa is. It takes the fun out of it.”
“Boo.” He puts away a cocktail glass. “Now that I think about it, you’re right. I don’t want to tell you.”
“See? You needed three seconds to think it through.”
“It’s going to be an epic gift, so I’d rather make you wait to see it,” he says. “But you can tell me yours.”
“Nice try.”
“Worth a shot.”
Some of the weight in my chest lifts every time I interact with any of my co-workers, which is as social as I get these days. But I remind myself nothing good will come out of rushing my process, so I pat myself on the back and count this small step with Charlie as my win of the day.
Minutes after Charlie disappears into the changing room, my boss’s unmistakable voice sends a thrill down my spine.
“Don’t forget my bracelet.”
Heat climbs up my cheeks, and I shift my gaze to my sneakers. I don’t know what’s harder to believe—that I was bold enough to suggest making him one of my bracelets, or that he seems eager to have it.
I give him a smile. “Green and white, right?”
He dips his chin once, and that’s all the answer I get. With another smile his way, I turn around to put away some bottles of alcohol before my shift ends.
Humming a song under my breath, I’m not paying attention to my surroundings—which explains why I don’t hear him coming until he’s right beside me.
“I’ll take care of that,” Travis says, carefully taking a heavy bottle from my grip.
My heart somersaults, warmth seeping into my skin when his fingers brush my much smaller ones. “Oh. Thanks, but my shift isn’t over yet. I’ve got this.”
“You’ll finish sooner if I help you.”
He doesn’t sound gruff or mean when he says it, yet his voice doesn’t leave room for arguments. And honestly? This week has been so mentally exhausting, I won’t say no to a bit of help.
Together, Travis and I put the remaining bottles away. We don’t speak, and I keep humming because he doesn’t seem bothered by it. Charlie is the first one to leave, then Jude and Sandra until we are, once again, the last ones at The Lair.
I’m zipping up my jacket, ready to face the cold outside, when he says, “I’ll walk you to your car.”
I’m shaking my head before he finishes his sentence. In a teasing voice, I say, “Thanks, boss man, but I don’t want you to spoil me so much.”
The hardness in his face doesn’t go anywhere. “It’s late and dark.”
“And I’ve been on my own for the past six years, taking care of myself. I’ll be fine.”
My admission catches him off guard. Maybe someone else wouldn’t have noticed the way his eyebrows shoot up the tiniest notch, but I do. I notice everything about Travis, even when I don’t want to.
“Okay,” he concedes after a pause. “You’re right.”
I’m not sure he sounds that convinced, but I appreciate his faith in me being able to take a forty-second walk to my car without getting kidnapped.
That last thought sends a bolt of anxiety straight to my chest.
What happened with Claudia—or whatever her real name was—has never, not once, stopped haunting me. How she knew everything about my family so easily, how she managed to fool me. If I hadn’t screamed like a maniac, I wouldn’t be here today.
What if it happens again? What if there are more Claudias out there who want to hurt me?
It’s just the article , I tell myself. It’s brought all my daunting memories back, including the most traumatizing thing that has ever happened to me. But realistically, I know I’m okay. Their ring got dismantled. My mind is being my worst enemy today, that’s all.
And yet, after waving goodbye to Travis, I nearly sprint to my car. The cold wind pushes back my bangs and makes me shiver despite my many layers of clothing. The streetlights are my only companions, and for a moment, I regret not having said yes to Travis.
But I can’t depend on him. On anyone else. I’m okay on my own?—
My thoughts skid to a stop when I reach my car and notice that the window behind the driver’s seat is rolled down.
“What the hell,” I mutter, frantically glancing around, but there’s nobody here.
I unlock my car and search inside, my mind going a million miles per hour. Did I leave the window down? But why would I do that when it’s so cold outside? Maybe I accidentally pushed a button or something?
Heart racing, I inspect every corner until I’ve tripled-checked that nothing has been stolen. Not that I keep anything valuable in here, but I do have a jacket in the back seat with a twenty-dollar bill inside one of the pockets, and the money is still there.
This makes no sense.
The thought of running back to The Lair and asking Travis for help crosses my mind for all of two seconds before I tell myself I’m catastrophizing. The most logical explanation is that I left it down by accident. There are no signs of a forced entry outside or inside the car—I checked compulsively—and there’s nothing missing.
I’m safe. What are the odds of getting kidnapped twice? And what motives could anyone have now?
Taking a deep breath, I start the engine.
I’m not in danger. This incident has nothing to do with kidnappers or George Eden’s interest in interviewing me, and everything to do with the fact that I’ve been distracted this week. Only that.
Just like I’ve been for the past year, I’m still safe in Bannport.