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21
Penny
Moving the last few boxes of pasta from the small pallet onto the shelf, I take one last look to make sure everything is straight.
“You know your shift ended ten minutes ago?” Mary calls from the front of the store.
“Just finishing up,” I tell her.
I’ve been working here in her tiny grocery store for a few weeks now. I couldn’t stand letting my parents pay for everything. The least I can do is help out. It’s not much, but at least I don’t feel useless, and I like it here. Mary is a sweetheart, and she was running this place all on her own before I came along.
“Will you be a doll and take the trash out on your way?”
“Sure thing.” I grab the large trash bag from behind the counter and head toward the back exit. “Bye, Mary. See you tomorrow.”
“Bye, kid!” she calls after me. “Thanks again.”
The heavy door falls shut behind me, and I step into the small back alley behind the shop. I wrinkle my nose at the stench of garbage and urine that always greets me back here. Dragging the trash bag behind me, I use my free hand to open the dumpster’s sliding door.
“Need some help?” a male voice startles me.
I drop the trash bag and spin around, coming face to face with a man I don’t know. He is wearing dirty clothes, and his hair looks uncombed, making me think he might be homeless.
“Sorry, sweets. Didn’t mean to scare you.” He gives me a smile that has the small hairs on the back of my neck standing up. Panic rises inside of me; like a vine, it wraps around me, not wanting to let go. “Just thought you could use a hand.”
“No, thanks, I’m fine,” I say, trying to keep my voice even. Glancing around the small alleyway, I look for the quickest exit. The only way I can go is behind me, which means I have to get around the dumpster first.
“Don’t be like that, sweets. I’m just trying to help.” He takes a few steps toward me, his eyes roaming my body, and I know I have to make a run for it now.
Just as I’m about to take off into a sprint, the man suddenly retreats. His face goes pale, and the mischief in his eyes turns into fear. He takes a few more steps back, holding up his hands, palms first.
Only then do I realize he isn’t looking at me anymore. He is staring at something behind me.
Twisting my head, I look over my shoulder.
Ryder.
I’m vaguely aware of the man making a run for it, hearing his feet pound against the concrete to get away.
Then the alley goes silent, leaving Ryder and me in it alone. I don’t know how he got here or why he came, neither do I care at this moment.
I’m feeling so many different things at seeing him that I can’t make out if it’s good or bad. All I know is that my feet are cemented to the ground, and I can’t move a muscle.
The glare he was giving the unknown guy lowers, and his eyes find mine. His gaze softens, but I can still see the anger and turmoil within the icy blue depths.
“You shouldn’t work here,” is the first thing out of his mouth. His words take me by surprise, I expected him to yell at me. Demand why I left, maybe ask for his money back. Definitely not that I shouldn’t work here.
When I say nothing back, he grabs my hand and pulls me down the alley and onto the road. With my hand secured in his, we walk down the sidewalk. To everyone else, it probably looks like we’re a couple taking a stroll.
At the next corner, he leads me down a different alley where I spot his truck.
He opens the passenger side and lifts me in, climbing in behind me. He shuts the door, and I slide toward the middle of the cab, making space for him, but he grabs my hips and pulls me back onto his lap.
Before I can comprehend what is happening, I’m cradled to his chest, his muscular arms wrapped around my body, holding me to him tightly.
I bury my face in his shirt, sucking in air mingled with his unique scent, I missed so much. Yes, I missed it, I missed him. I missed the way he smelled, the way he tastes, and the way he makes me feel. I missed it all.
I thought those feelings might go away, but they have only been getting stronger. Every night, I wish he was holding me, wish for his touch. I was just too scared to admit it, even to myself.
