Page 6 of An Anomaly of Sunlight

Not according to Evelyn, who is doing her absolute best to convince me that I need all the bells and whistles to go with it. “Top of the line tech requires top of the line protection, ma’am.” She tells me matter-of-factly. Mom thinks I don’t need anything extra, but I go ahead and add whatever Evelyn suggests.

Saving every penny didn’t get me to the number I wanted anyway. Might as well throw a little money around. I had kept that same sentiment earlier when tipping Meisha and the baristas at GGs. The latte and scone were even better than my memories, and I’m not sure there’s a word in the dictionary to describe how good it feels to be brunette again. Guess I have to settle for elated.

Finally satisfied after having sold me a fully waterproof protective case, a car and home charger, and a wallet to stick on the back of the phone case, Evelyn shakes my hand. “It’s been a pleasure helping you, Ms. Owens. Should you need anything else feel free to reach out at any time.” She hands me a business card as she moves to open the door for Mom and I. “Thanks again!” I dip my head to her as I walk out the door.

My hand touches the handle to Mom’s car door, and I can’t help smiling from ear to ear. With each new step I regain a part of me that was lost. I know that fully forgetting my years in Angel’s Rest is unlikely. Especially not the memory of my last night there.

Still, this new phone and new number is the start. This is me taking back control of my life. And damn, does it feel good.

“You know, maybe you should do a little part-time work. Just to help keep your mind occupied so it doesn’t wander to... less desirable places.” Mom glances my way as she turns the key, firing up her trusty sedan. She places a hand on my shoulder as the car’s engine purrs in the silence. “I can always find something for you to do around the shop.” She gives me that crooked grin that I love, but sadly I cannot accept her offer.

“You know I’d love to work with you. You also know I absolutely cannot be trusted with those scissors.” We both giggle at that. I’m sure both of our minds go to the memory of me taking our old family dog to the salon. Better known as the bathroom. I was probably around ten years old at the time, and immensely proud of Panda’s haircut.

Truly, though, it was the most uneven and patchy cut we’d ever seen. With some spots completely shaved off, and some still long and clumpy. I never got any better, either. As proven by when I cut my own hair at sixteen. I was thoroughly convinced I could after vigorously watching tutorials for hours. But of course, my uneven layers were far different than in the videos.

“Okay, perhaps grooming isn’t your strong suit. But I do remember seeing a flyer hanging in the window at Burrow’s back home saying that they need help. Maybe you could try that?” Mom tilts her head at me as she fastens her seat belt, silently asking if she should head in that direction.

I nod and move to buckle my own belt. “Sure, I can at least look into it.” She’s right. I could use something to keep my mind off things. “I also really need some groceries and supplies. I need to go to the boutique downtown, too. For a few new outfits.”

As we drive down the highway, a warm feeling seeps through my veins, pooling in my chest. I can’t explain it; I just know with absolute certainty I am meant to be at Burrow’s.

Four

Skyler

Some days I hate this fucking job with an intensity that physically pains me. There are four hundred price changes today and of course, a call out. The hatred is almost strong enough to make me wish I had stayed in the pack. That thought still makes bile rise into my throat. Heavy on the almost.

Born and raised to be alpha, but I never wanted that fate. It’s my sister, August’s, birthright anyway. If only she’d been born male. Then maybe a lot of things would be different. Maybe our family wouldn’t be quite as fucked up. Yet, as my vision starts to blur from staring at these labels all day, I can’t help but wonder if it might’ve been less irritating to take over Dad’s dark dealings.

Comparatively, a quick drop of illegal substances would take just thirty minutes, and I’d make my fifty-hour weekly salary. Murder would surely take less of my time than the sixteen hours I’ll now be stuck here today, instead of my usual ten.

Since, of course, a runny nose renders my cashier, Olyver, unable to work his painfully long four-hour shift. Wren could handle it on her own. She was already going to be by herself for two hours this evening, but the policy doesn’t allow anyone to close the store by themselves. And naturally, I couldn’t find someone to cover Olyver’s shift.

“Skyler, I don’t suppose you could help me out, could you?” A husky voice interrupts my pity party. I lock eyes with the burly man, Thibault. He’s a regular, always looking for something he can’t find. I enjoy helping him. He’s courteous and sometimes even gives me a tip — making me feel like a pup again, wondering which treat to get with my allowance.

“Of course, what are you looking for today?” He pulls up a picture of a peculiar shaped fishing lure on his phone. Seriously, what is that thing? “Hm, I won’t carry something like that here. Try the little gas station closer to the lake. What is it called… Chip and Finn’s? I’m sure they’ll have what you need.” He nods before asking, “Right, what about a cooler?”

I motion for him to follow me. “Now that I do have. Right this way, Thibault.” He picks out a medium sized blue cooler and slips me a five-dollar bill. “Take care now, I’ll see you next time,” he bids me farewell. I chuckle softly under my breath. Next time most likely means later tonight.

Thibault’s absence leaves me alone with my thoughts once again. Yes, the money that living in the pack would reward sounds enticing, but I always remember the reasons I left. Always remember I’m thankful for my freedom. Even if working myself to death is the price I pay.

Pack life isn’t something I wanted to be a part of. Especially as an alpha’s son. It was a constant fight with another male. Always being bombarded by wolves interested only in the title I could provide and nothing more. The fact that my father is a murderer, rapist, and misogynistic piece of shit. Having to see how he degraded August while putting me on a pedestal.

Exhausting. All of it.

Managing Burrow’s is exhausting in its own way. Endless tasks, larger volume trucks every week, constant display changes, and no additional payroll to help get it all done. I huff out a laugh. Not that the employees show up for the hours they’re already scheduled anyway. Nevertheless, the peaceful atmosphere of Tarot Lake makes picking up the slack worth it.

That is until the high-pitched beep that haunts my dreams echoes through the store. Knowing I’m being called to the front, my eyes hit the back of my skull. I debate running away. Not now, Wren. Please not now. I just want to be left alone to rot with my price changes. I can’t mentally handle a customer interaction.

“Skyler, I need you at the front,” comes her sing-song voice over the intercom. A tone more appropriate for a toddler than her boss. I’d rather listen to nails on a chalkboard. With a quick look at the ceiling, wondering if the Goddess would answer me if I prayed for the store to spontaneously combust, I stalk to the front.

My head throbs as the customer finally walks out the door. After ten minutes of back and forth, I guess they decided the fifty-cent discount on their paper towels wasn’t worth it after all.

Through the glass doors, I see a sleek, black SUV pull up. Sage Rivera. Thank fuck. Time always seems to fly when I’m talking to her. I glance over my shoulder at Wren, surprised to find her back to me as she stocks the cigarette case behind the counter instead of taking selfies. She has her dark red hair pulled into a braid between the tortoiseshell horns atop her head. Those seem largely inconvenient. I thank my lucky stars I wasn’t born a demon.

“If you need me — don’t.” I grumble as I brush past her, quickly stepping up into the office, and grabbing my jacket. Wren chuckles and rolls her eyes as I close the office door behind me. “Right, I’ll just tell everyone you finally quit.” She teases, the wrinkles around her eyes crinkling with her smile as she uses her claws to tear open another carton to stock. With a huff, I step outside to light my own cigarette.

“What brings you out?” I ask Sage as she leans against her cruiser. She crosses her arms over her chest and I can’t help being jealous of her muscles. Maybe someday my biceps will look like that. I take a long drag of the cigarette to stop myself from laughing out loud at my own train of thought.