10. Haven
Haven
I wince when I accidentally slam my car door. Jeez, I’ve got to be more careful. The state this thing’s in, it wouldn’t surprise me if the fender falls off.
Auto repairs are definitely not in my budget. Not that I even have a budget. You only need to plan your money if you actually have some.
The faint hum of Pie Palace’s white neon sign greets me as I walk around to the front of the building. The parking lot is still pretty empty, but it’ll start filling up in an hour or two. Our Monday night BOGO burger special brings in a lot of business.
I tug at the hem of my outfit—a faded mustard-yellow smock made from cheap polyester.
It’s not that I care what I look like, I just wish the thing didn’t itch so much.
Not like anyone from AHC is likely to see me in it. The diner is so close to Riverside, no one from the upper suburbs would dare eat here for fear of catching e-coli…or poverty.
I’m working behind the counter tonight, which I love because it means I can keep a flipped-open textbook hidden just out of sight to study from when I’m not serving customers.
I’ve had the weekend to recover from my first week at college, although most of it I spent here. Monday mornings are so quiet though, I opted to spend the day working on my assignments and getting up to speed with the study material for each of my classes.
The only thing I’m stuck on is Professor Rooke’s Lessons in Cruelty course.
My Activity Log is still empty, and the art piece is due tomorrow…but I’m all out of ideas.
You’d swear I was a virgin to cruelty.
“Coffee and pie.”
I take my pen out of my mouth and blink up at the guy sitting opposite me. I was so zoned in on my Urban Studies textbook I didn’t notice him walking in.
As soon as I see his face, it feels like someone’s dragging my polyester dress up my back.
“Uh, yeah, sure. Coming right up.” I try to sound chipper, but there’s an uneven cadence in my voice.
I know this guy. Sure, Agony Hollow is a small town, so no duh, but I saw him like less than an hour ago.
In a car stopped behind me at the intersection as I was driving to the diner.
I’m not imagining it.
Same wire-framed glasses and slack expression.
Same bright red hoodie, like he intentionally put a warning sign on himself so people will stay away. And a faded black baseball cap, even though it’s night out.
Shake it off, Haven. People can travel across town to have pie. It’s not illegal.
Just weird.
Looking as creepy as this dude does, though? That should be illegal.
I’m a little unsteady when I put down his coffee cup, but thankfully I don’t spill.
Is it time for my five-minute break yet? Screw it, I’m taking one.
“Here you go. Let me know if there’s anything else.”
“Pie.”
My insides are shivering. “Oh, right. Sorry. We, uh, have, uh, apple.”
“Don’t like apple.” He stares at me like we’re having a blinking contest. But I’m practically fluttering my lashes in panic, so honestly, he can stop. He’s won.
“Key lime?”
“Nuh-uh.”
“Okay, uh…” I’ve literally forgotten what other pies we have.
“Got pecan?”
“Yes! Yes we do!”
“Don’t like pecan.”
Oh my God. I can’t take this anymore. How much shit will I get into if I throw his scalding hot coffee in his face?
A bell tings behind me. “Haven! Order up!”
The guy snaps out of it like he was auditioning and forgot his line. “Forget the pie. I’m not hungry, anyway.”
I spin away from him and grab the plate from the pickup area, moving so quickly that the burger almost stays behind on the warm steel.
As soon as I’ve set the plate down in front of my customer on the other side of the counter, I yell, “Five-minute break!” to whoever the hell is in the vicinity and hurry for the diner’s back door.
I don’t smoke, and I never have more than one drink on the very rare occasion that I drink alcohol, but I wish I had a bottle of vodka and a cigarette right now.
Tipping my head up, I stare at the stars twinkling above me as I drink in some soothing night air, my thumb tracing over the bruise on my wrist.
Still can’t get over how Bastian touched me. How it sent a thrill through me that had nothing to do with pain. Or perhaps, everything.
This is all Kai’s fault.
He’s turned me into a fucking wreck.
I can talk myself down as much as I want. He’s a ticking time bomb and I don’t know when he’s going to explode in my face. Or how to defuse him.
My break ends up being ten minutes, because it takes that long for me to convince myself that the guy in the hoodie who may or may not have followed me here is less scary than being broke.
I haven’t always been a model employee, and disappearing during a shift is asking for trouble.
When I go back inside, the guy in the red hoodie is gone.
Thank fuck.
Teagan sees my shoulders slope down with relief and must mistake it for despair because she gives me a pat on the arm as she passes. “Don’t worry, he paid. Even left a tip.”
I clock out at eleven that night with a faint headache and an urgent need for some sleep. Since I made a few bucks in tips and got some studying done, I’m going to call it a win.
Plus, I scored half a stale apple pie, a quarter gallon of questionable milk, and fries a customer sent back because the waitress got their side order wrong.
It’s me. I’m that waitress.
I’m on a no-money diet, so yeah, I take liberties. And I definitely take the fries.
I’ve developed this fun new habit of juggling too many things as I try to get into my car. My apple pie almost ends up on the ground. But thankfully the car door is halfway open, so it crash lands on the front seat instead.
On top of my textbooks.
Shit.
Crouching half-in, half out of the car, I wedge the milk jug in the passenger-side footwell, between a wadded up sweater and a pair of distressed vintage leather boots.
Then I carefully scoop the apple pie back into the takeout container and start dusting crumbs and apple goo off the stack of library books.
“God, Haven, could you be more clumsy?” I mutter to myself as I stare at my sticky hands.
“Sure you can. Remember that time you fell into that puddle of mud by the creek?” Kai says behind me.
I shoot up in surprise so fast, I knock my head.
The pie drops into the seat again.
“Fuck!”
“What happened to the girl who used to say ‘fudge?’” Kai peers calmly at me as I turn to face him, the heel of my hand pressed to the aching spot on my head.
“What the fudge are you doing here?”
He shrugs, glances around. “Felt like some coffee. Pity you’re already closed.”
Teagan parks in front of the diner because she says she already gets all her steps during her shift. The customers have all left. My car is the only one in the parking lot.
Kai must have been waiting in the shadows, because I didn’t notice him when I came out. No one with good intentions lurks in the dark.
“Right,” I mutter, dropping my hands to my sides. “Let me guess, you were just in the neighborhood?”
“No.”
When he sees how surprised I am, he smiles wryly. “I’m not as good a liar as you are, Haven.”
It’s not the cool breeze blowing past us that makes my skin prickle. He walks closer, forcing me to back up, but there’s only a few inches for me to go before the back of my legs hit the car.
“I don’t come down to Riverside anymore. It’s too hard to get the stink out of my clothes. But when—“ he glances away for a second “—a friend of mine spotted you here, I had this sudden craving for pie.”
The guy in the red hoodie.
I fucking knew something was up with that guy.
“Cool story. Now stay the hell away from me.”
We both move at the same time.
I slide to the side, grabbing the top of the car door so I can close it behind me.
He darts forward, laying his hand over mine, blocking me in the gap with his body.
There’s a pinch as he tightens his grip.
Then a burst of pain when he pushes a hand into my chest just below my collar bones, grinding me against the sharp jamb.
I grab the back of his hand, trying to pull him away. Trying to tug my fingers free where he has them curled over the top of the door.
“Leaving so soon? I thought we could reminisce about old times. You ever do that, Haven? Think about old times?”
“Kai, I swear, if you don’t—“
His face twists, and he snatches his hand away from the door. “Why the fuck are you so sticky?”
“Apple pie.”
“The fuck?” he snaps, frowning even harder.
“Pie. With apples. Apple. Pie.”
He must think I’m being condescending, but I’m just trying to say whatever he wants to hear so he’ll let me go.
But the game’s rigged.
I gasp when he catches hold of my wrist and drags it up so he can sniff my fingers. He glances down at the streaks of pie filling coating my skin and then gives each finger a careful lick.
“Can you taste the poison?”
Of course I think about those days. The games I’d play with that boy in the woods was the only thing that kept me sane back then. We made up a version of Snow White that would have had Tarantino clutching his pearls.
Kai frowns as he glances past me into the car. His face shifts into a bemused smile. I can still see the anger bubbling under it, but he’s always liked his games.
Especially the cruel ones.
“Aw, Heavenly,” he says, releasing my wrist.
I might have tried to punch him, maybe claw at his face, pop an eyeball with my nail, I don’t know…but he’s too fast. The hand on my chest has already slid up to my throat, and he’s squeezing.
Hard.
“You forget? I’m immune to your poison, witch,” he whispers as he leans past me.
He must have scooped up a handful from the takeout container, because when Kai’s hand reappears, it’s dripping with filling.
I stare at him with sick fascination as he shoves the filling into his mouth, streaks of sauce and bits of apple smearing his lips and chin. “Oh, wow,” he mumbles around the pie. “Mmm. So good…”
But then he stops talking. Stops chewing. Gags.
“Jesus, how old is this?”
I give him a tight smile, pointing to the corner of my mouth. “You got a little mold there.”