18. Willow
Eighteen
Willow
I t was a slow night at the Coffee House Bunny, with only a handful of customers stopping by. Willow handed the man with copper hair his black coffee and he dropped a five-dollar bill in her tip jar before leaving her alone in the café. He was the same man from a few days ago, but did not seem to be much of a threat. He just seemed tired. There was no need to contact Gage. Besides, she would rather cut off her own toe than text him.
She tried to convince herself that his rejection didn’t hurt. She wasn’t sure if she wanted a relationship, anyway. One thing she was glad about was that Gage had showed her his true colors before they’d started seriously dating. When she looked at it that way, he’d done her a favor. He’d saved her a lot of heartbreak, drama, and re-traumatization. Her ex had hurt her both verbally and physically, but by the end she didn’t love him. With Gage, she wasn’t so sure the same would hold true.
But she would never find out if she could love him now, because according to him she had been a mistake. Embarrassed by that one little word, she’d fled his bedroom before she could really give him a piece of her mind.
She had never been judged on her sexual abilities before, but she must have been bad if he was labeling what they had done a mistake. There was no other explanation she could come up with that would cause him to instantly regret sleeping with her.
Willow pulled out her clipboard from underneath the counter and sighed as she flipped through the pages. She hated doing inventory, but it was either this or continue to ruminate about Gage.
Before she could start, her phone dinged, alerting her that Marla had texted checking in again. Marla had sent a text after the party asking what had happened, but she’d ignored it and tucked herself into her couch with a blanket and a slasher film where the handsome male lead was sliced apart. Watching the carnage helped ease her anger, but did nothing for the sadness that was creeping into her soul.
Hey, sorry for ditching u. I’m ok. I couldnt find you and assumed you were w/ Matteo. How did that go?
She picked up the clipboard again, only to put it back down when her phone chirped with a response seconds later.
SO GOOD!!! We’ve been texting all night. We didn’t even have sex last night, we hung out in his room & talked instead!! Hes even cooler than I thought, we’re going to some fancy italian place 2nite.
A part of her was slightly jealous of Marla, wishing that Gage would have done the same instead of fucking her and then throwing her clothes at her.
Good, I’m happy for you. Keep me updated xx
Willow sighed and started counting the bundles of napkins, straws, and stirrers she had stored under the counter. The other part of her was truly happy for Marla, because she saw how much joy Matteo brought her.
Her mind kept wandering and after having to restart her count three times, she finally finished and stood up from behind the counter. She noticed the bells on her front door swinging slightly, but not enough to make them chime. She found it odd, since her air conditioner wasn’t running, but returned to her tasks. She grabbed the spare bag of espresso beans to refill the machine, and chills ran up her spine when she turned around to throw out the bag. She had a feeling that someone was watching her.
She went over to the windows, wondering if some creep was staring at her from the sidewalk. Her anxiety told her she was going to see some lowlife man jerking off as he watched her inside the café, but the reality was that the streets were bare. Not even a car had driven past in the two minutes she had been looking out her windows.
“I should’ve brought Snickers to work,” she mumbled to herself.
She went back to her dreaded inventory and began counting the syrups stacked against the wall. She was running low on vanilla, but had a surplus of raspberry flavoring. She turned back around to write down a note to create a special of the month that included raspberry, maybe something vampire-themed, but froze when she noticed a dark flash near the bathrooms out of the corner of her eye.
“Hello?”
She was beginning to feel like the star of her own slasher film. Contrary to what was expected in those movies, she decided to mind her own business and ignored the feeling of dread building in her stomach. Opposite of manifestation, she hoped that if she ignored something hard enough, it would go away.
Finishing her count of the items out front, she made her way to the storage room in the back. She felt safer here away from the windows and the open space of the café. There were fewer places for a masked serial killer to hide.
She placed her clipboard down on a nearby table to reach up and turn an unlabeled box around to figure out its contents. As soon as she stretched up on her tip-toes, the door behind her that she’d purposely left open clicked closed.
She spun around with eyes wide, ready to see a man in a hockey mask lunging toward her. Instead, a blond man stood leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and his piercing green gaze locked on her.
“What the hell, Gage?”
“We have to talk.”
“Customers are not allowed back here.” She tried to shoo him out of the room, but he didn’t budge.
“I’m not here as a customer, Willow. We have to talk about last night.”
“There’s nothing to talk about. I was a mistake, you made that very clear, so I’ll move on and find someone who likes me enough to not use me. Now please leave.”
She whipped around, her ponytail having an attitude of its own with a satisfying swing as it came to rest on her shoulder, and continued her count. His hand snaked its way around her face and covered her mouth making her unable to scream as his other hand wrapped around her waist. Panic surged through her as she tried to wriggle her way free, but he tightened his hold even more to the point that she was sure there would be bruising on her sides.
His voice was dark and deep, the whisper of his breath tickling her ear. “Ever since I met you, you have consumed my every thought. You’ve even invaded my fucking dreams. I didn’t sleep today because I couldn’t get the thought of how you felt underneath me out of my mind.”
His tongue flicked out and ran a line down her neck, his fangs trailing down her skin. He squeezed his hand that was clamped over her mouth to the point tears brimmed at the corner of her eyes, then let her go. She spun around and looked up to find pure desire burning in his eyes.
“I like how you look when you’re scared because that’s how you’re supposed to look at me, instead of being naked and grinding against my face.” He cornered her and put both hands against the wall, inches from her face, as he leaned toward her and growled. “Are you scared of me, Willow?”
Her breath was shallow and quick, and a cold shiver made the hairs on her arm stand up, but what she felt wasn’t fear. No—she thought how broken she must be, because she was feeling a mix of desire and excitement. She slowly shook her head no.
“I guess I’ll have to change that then.”
He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her toward the table, roughly pushing her clipboard off onto the floor. She flinched at the loud crash as it collided with the tiles.
“Gage! What if a customer comes in?” She gasped when he bent her over the table, forcing her legs apart with his knee.
“Good thing I locked the door,” he whispered before biting her ear.
The bite was gentle and didn’t pierce her flesh, but sent shivers down her spine nonetheless. She felt his warm body pressed against her as he leaned over her, trapping her against the table. One hand held her shoulder down while the other traveled up her thigh, over her ass, to the top of her jeans. He inserted a finger between her pants and skin, sliding it around to the front to undo the button. The sound of her zipper filled the room.
“I really need to get back upfront. It was slow today and I don’t want to miss a customer,” she whispered as she tried to sit up .
It didn’t take him much effort to push her back down.
He began leaving a trail of white-hot kisses down her neck as he slipped his hand into the front of her jeans. He massaged her clit through her underwear and she let out a deep moan as a warmth blanketed her. She instantly forgot about the potential customers.
“Still want to go back up front?” He asked.
Instead of an answer, she curved her back and thrust her ass against the hardness tight against his own zipper, begging to be let out. He groaned and removed his hand from her shoulder, allowing her to sit up a little. He continued to massage her as he undid his pants and released his cock. She bit her lip and closed her eyes, relishing the feeling of her pants slowly being dragged down her legs to pool around her ankles.
He pulled her pink thong taunt and to the side, revealing her soaking wet entry for him. He never quit his circling, and the pressure was starting to build in her stomach. She involuntarily kicked her hips back, helping him slip his tip into her entrance. She laid down completely flat on the table, moaning as he slowly entered her and filled her to max capacity. This time, his thrusts were slow and gentle.
Willow pressed her body hard against the cold metal table, wishing she was on her back so she could wrap her arms around him and dig her nails into his flesh. He was creating a storm within her, and she needed something to hold on to, afraid that the release would send her free-falling into space.
Each time he entered her she could feel her walls clinging to him, not wanting to let go. He picked up his pace while entangling her ponytail in his fingers, pulling back to lift her head off the table. As soon as they made eye contact, her storm finally exploded and her eyes rolled back as she let out an ungodly noise, pleasure flowing through her every limb.
“Oh fuck, Gage, fuck!” She screamed at the top of her lungs, knowing that no one would be able to hear her.
He kept rubbing her clit, forcing the orgasm to last longer than it should until he came. He thrust so hard and deep inside her as his storm poured over him that she was surprised he didn’t wound her organs.
“Goddamn it, Willow.” He pulled out of her and quickly pulled his pants back up. She looked over her shoulder in confusion and watched as his eyes landed on his cream seeping out of her pulsing center. He had a painful expression on his face before he abruptly turned and left the room, closing the door behind him.
“Wait!” She called after him, but by the time she put her pants back on and ran out front, he had left, the bells of the door tinkling behind him.
She stood in a haze, wondering what the appropriate reaction was to the situation she found herself in. One minute she thought she was terrible in bed, then the next she found out she had driven him crazy. She was as confused as he seemed to be.
She thought about texting him, but chastised herself for even considering chasing after a man. If he wanted more than sex from her, he would have to be the one to say something, because now she wasn’t embarrassed.
She was pissed.
????
The haze continued through the night and into the next day. It didn’t help that she tossed and turned in bed. Every time she closed her eyes, she pictured his green ones looking down at her with lust. She knew she needed to clear her mind to survive the night at work, so she decided a run on the beach would reset her mind.
Fall—or what little fall Florida experienced—was approaching, and the air was still humid but was not so blazingly hot. It was perfect for running, since dry air usually made her throat burn, and the breeze would wick away the sweat. She put in her headphones and blasted a playlist of 70’s disco music. There was something about the beat that got her pumped and increased her stamina.
Her feet pounded against the sidewalk as she watched the businesses slowly begin to turn off their lights and flip their signs to closed. Much of the town was beginning to shut down as a smaller part was coming alive.
She passed by a strip club whose lights began flashing and dancing around the sign that read that Cherry Bomb would be the star dancer tonight and that a drag show would be performing this weekend. She made a mental note to ask Marla if she would be interested in joining her for a wild time getting drunk and watching beautiful people lip-sync to Madonna.
A man came stumbling out of a bar like he had been thrown out and almost crashed into her. She deftly avoided him, giving him a small wave and smile. She turned the corner and watched a group of giggling girls go into a different bar. One had a sash around her that proudly stated she was a bride-to-be. Another group of girls were taking pictures of themselves in front of a vintage theater that was showing The Rocky Horror Picture Show . There was a line of eccentrically-dressed people behind them waiting for the doors to open.
Willow smiled at them all, loving how happy and carefree they seemed. That’s all she ever wanted out of life—to feel safe, happy, and at home—and she was beginning to believe that she would get that here in Vista Maria .
Even with Gage toying with her emotions, she had Marla, her regulars like John and Ryan, a cozy little apartment close to the ocean, and the Coffee House Bunny. It was an amazing feeling to be a female business owner, knowing that her ancestors struggled to gain the right to have their own money, let alone own a business. Her little life was coming together, and she was starting to feel whole again after so much pain had marred her past.
Willow broke free of the city streets and stepped onto sand. The view took her breath away and she paused her workout. Before her was an ethereal sunset full of pink, purple, and red layers, with whisps of blues dispersed throughout. She sat down, brought her knees up to her chest, and wrapped her arms around them in a tight hug. Resting her chin on her knees, she could almost feel the presence of her mother’s spirit sitting down beside her.
When she was alive, they used to watch sunsets together and mark them on a list to track how many states they saw them in. Now Willow could mark Florida off their list.
Mo stóirín.
A chill ran down Willow’s back at the whisper of her nickname. She would hear her mother’s voice in dreams, but never awake. And never so vividly.
She jumped when she felt a tapping on her shoulder and looked up, half expecting to see her mother. Instead, she saw the man that had stumbled out from the bar earlier. He had pockmarks scaring his face, a slight hunch to his shoulders, and his black hair was styled in a bowl-cut, giving him the look of Moe from the Three Stooges. The energy he gave off, though, made Willow realize he would be anything but funny.
“Excuse me, miss, but you do smell rather lovely. I was wondering if you were taken?”
The feral glint in the man’s eyes warned her to lie. “Thanks, but I have a boyfriend and he’s waiting for me at home. I promised him I wouldn’t be out too late.”
“That’s wise. It’s not safe after dark.” His smile widened to the point it looked painful, revealing sharp canines among yellowed teeth. A shadow fell across his face as the sun completely fell below the horizon.
“Yeah, I better get going. Have a nice night.” She tried to stand up, but the man pushed her down with one hand.
“You should let me walk you home, I promise I don’t bite.” He began cackling like a crazed clown and his eyes turned black. “Well, I don’t bite too much. I don’t want a big mess to clean up.”
The man lunged at her, but she quickly rolled over and tried to crawl away from him, unable to find the coordination to get her legs under her to stand. He grabbed her by the ankle and pulled her back toward him, collapsing on the ground to try to bite her calf. She screamed and kicked him in the face, throwing fistfuls of sand hoping to blind him briefly so she could get away. All he did was snarl and bat the sand away.
“Give up, girly, you’re no match for me.” He lunged for her again, grabbed her hand, and attempted to pin her body down.
“Fuck you!” She spit in his face and grabbed him with her free hand, pressing her thumb into his eye. He let out a wet roar as she felt his eye pop like a grape under her adrenaline-fueled strength. Blood oozed down his cheek, and he released her to grab ahold of his face. She tried to scramble away from him again, but froze in horror when he revealed a normal-looking eye.
“That’s the thing girly, I regenerate faster than you can hurt me. So give up.”
She was in too deep of a panic to respond, but was able to stand up this time and begin running back toward the city. She let out a blood-curdling scream when he grabbed the back of her sports bra and pulled her back to the ground. Tears began streaming out of her eyes as she rolled over and looked up at him towering over her.
This was her end.
This was her reparation for the sin she’d committed the night she’d left her ex.
“Mama, I’m so sorry,” she whimpered. She chose to keep her eyes open to stare down her murderer.
As quickly as he had pulled her down, his head disappeared and blood splattered the sand around her. His headless body stayed standing for a few moments before it began tipping toward her.
“Oops, don’t want that to land on you,” a man’s voice said cheerfully.
The decapitated body flung over her and she watched as it soared through the air and out into the ocean. From her position on the ground, she watched as a pair of feet dressed in black slacks and dress shoes reared back and kicked the head like a bloodied soccer ball. A feeling of relief and comfort came over her as she realized the only well-dressed man she knew was Clay. He had come to her rescue like the father she never had.
She watched the head soar through the night sky and make a soft splash into the dark waters not far from the body.
“There we go, dear.” He held out his large hand and helped her sit up.
Her legs were shaking and too weak to stand, so she had to look up at him from her spot on the ground. Her mind took a second to process who stood in front of her, for it was not the man she’d originally thought. Her voice came out in a breathless whisper as the man’s face came into focus in the night.
“Waldo?”