AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“…and now a missing diner waitress a few towns over?”
Oh, fuck.
Another person got hurt?
Was it the woman who gave me directions?
Was it because she gave me directions?
Is this shit my fault?
Am I to blame for her disappearance too?!
Who am I kidding.
Of course I am.
I always am.
The number of lives taken over me is too high.
Too…surreal.
When will it all stop?
How do I make it stop!?
Seeing Mr. November slowly shake his head spreads a pool of dread in the pit of my stomach. “I’m tellin’ ya. Something ain’t right out there, and whatever it is?” He tucks his wallet back into his pocket and looks straight at me. “It’s headed right for us, Ms. Ripley.”
Vomit lurches up the back of my throat prompting Nolan’s grip to tighten while Kipp does his best to rush out the lingering customer. “Noted, November.” Shoving the vehicle key across the countertop is quickly done. “She’s out front ready to go. I’ll see you in about a month to rotate those tires.”
“Thanks, Kipp!” He shoots a friendly wave to the two of us afterward. “See you around, Nolan.” A kind chin tip is given in my direction. “Ma’am.”
Ma’am?!
Okay, first he basically insists I brought the anti-Christ to town and then he goes out of his way to make sure to acknowledge I’m not as young as one of the men I’m crazy about?!
Why?!
Why?! Why?! Why?!
What did I do to deserve his soothsayer rage?!
Why am I always the target of someone’s displeasure?!
Kipp slips his fingers over to mine prompting Nolan to let go to lock the door during their lunchbreak. “Baby…” His voice sweetly hums, dragging my stare away from where the ghost of future crimes to come is exiting and over to him. “You have nothing to worry about, okay? This is just what he does. November predicts the world’s ending every six weeks or so.”
“I blame the pastor’s wife,” Mutt announces post the click sound that indicates we’re secure inside. “That fire and brimstone shit kicking is just guilt being regurgitated.”
Confusion crinkles my forehead. “Guilt for what?”
“Let’s just say November’s been delivering a different type of package on Wednesday’s for at least a decade.”
My jaw plummets to the floor. “No…”
“Gotta be longer than that,” Kipp heartily chuckles. “I remember my mom talking about that shit when I was little.”
“You’re still little,” our partner swiftly reminds, “so that’s not really a good measure of time.”
