Page 7 of Storm

Chapter 3

Kenzee

“You’re taking a break?” Phil, my boss, asks me.

“Yeah, Phil. That’s what I said,” I tell him as I get back to applying makeup to the dead body that lies in front of me. Yeah, some think it’s gross or crazy, but I am, in fact, a mortuary cosmetologist.

“You don’t take breaks,” Phil says as I continue with my work.

“I do now. Besides, my uncle wants to spend some time with me,” I tell him, although the thought of that makes me gag. Not that my uncle isn’t great to be around, he is, but family bonding isn’t really my thing.

“Aww, Kenz. A bonding trip,” he coos as he raises his hand to his heart. I roll my eyes before looking up at him.

“I’m not into that shit, and you know it.”

“That’s why it was a shock when you asked me for time off,” he adds.

“It’s been a long time since we’ve been to the beach. Weird since we fucking live near it.”

“Yeah, it is weird, but you’re a weird girl, Kenz,” he chuckles. He isn’t wrong.

“So you’re good with me taking some time off?”

“Yeah, of course. You know I’m easy to work with.”

“I also know that my uncle would beat your ass and possibly slit your throat if you tried to fire me,” I say cheerily.

“Well, that too.”

“Seriously, though, thanks, Phil.”

“Don’t get all soft on me, Kenz. So tell me about this new guy that’s back,” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

“What about him?”

“What’s he look like? Is he hot? Have you tried to fuck him yet?” I drop the brush I’ve been working with and grab the small knife I keep on the table next to me, pointing it at him.

“You keep talking shit, and I’ll send him over here. I’m not fucking a club member, and you know it.”

“I still don’t know why that rule exists,” he says.

“Because I made it exist.”

“But why? All of the ones that I’ve seen you around have been gorgeous, Kenzee.”

“And? That doesn’t mean shit, and we all know it.”

“You’re thinking about your little books, huh? That you’re going to find one of those kinds of men.”

“I’m absolutely not thinking that. I wouldn’t want a man like that anyway. Not after what I’ve lived with,” I remind him. He sighs before walking toward me and resting his hand on my shoulder.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Kenz. You deserve to be happy and have everything that you want.”

“No. I deserve the pain that I have.”

“No, you don’t. Stop being like that. You have a good heart, Kenz, You just need the right man to see that,” he tells me. If I were a girly girl, I would probably cry right now, but I’m not. So I just smile my thanks and drop the knife back onto the table.

“She’s done. I’m getting out of here for the day,” I say, nodding toward the elderly woman lying on the table in front of us. Phil looks down and hums his approval.