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It’s good advice. I’ve met Lauriel once or twice and she struck me as a good egg. I make a mental note to call her. “Will do. Thanks, Laia.”
She gives me a little wave and I resume my run.
I turn again and make my way down the other side of Main Street, loving how familiar it is to me. There’s Wallow and Wine, where my friends and I go for drinks on girls’ nights. Silver Serpent, the metaphysical store, and next to it, the bookstore. Adria Shah owns it, and she’s roommates with Oaklyn, my assistant manager at the bakery. There are so many connections here.
I take a deep breath, enjoying the sweet aroma wafting out of Queen of Tarts, my pride and joy. Oaklyn is opening today, and I wonder what she’s making. There were donuts in the freezer waiting to be baked, but Oaklyn always throws in one of her own specialties.
I circle around to the kitchen door and poke my head in.
“Hey, Oaklyn!” I call out.
Oaklyn’s head pops around a corner, her brown-and-green curls springing. “Libra! I thought you had today off.”
“I do,” I say with a nod. “But I was out for a jog and the scent lured me in. What are you making?”
“Mixed berry tarts. The first batch will be ready soon, if you want to stick around.”
Part of me wants to. Tarts are delicious, and I like hanging out with Oaklyn. She’s a bohemian, hippie type of girl, the kind of person who never seems to succumb to stress or anxiety. Everything is always sunny with her—the opposite of me—and I can always use some of that in my life. She just projects calm, no matter the circumstances.
Oaklyn was the first friend I made here in Haven’s Hollow, and to this day, I still consider her my closest acquaintance, though Haven is a near second. I could happily abandon my workout and spend the morning baking donuts and gossiping with Oaklyn. But my body wouldn’t thank me for that.
“I’d love to, but I really do need to finish my jog. My habit of sampling all our goodies will catch up to me if I don’t stick to my fitness routines.”
She laughs. “I hear that. I keep telling myself the same thing, but the pastries get me all the same. I’ve had to double my hikes since I started working here.”
Oaklyn is naturally curvy and fit, an avid outdoorswoman. When she’s not working, she hikes up in the mountains on cryptozoology missions and probably burns more calories in an hour than I do in a week.
That’s another thing about her that I find fascinating. She says her interest in cryptozoology is why she moved here, and is perfectly content to admit she believes in weird creatures. She never seems slightly embarrassed by it, which I think is cool.
There are lots of rumors that various kinds of magical critters once made their homes here, and she’s convinced that some still linger. Personally, I don’t know what to make of that. I fully accept there are things in the world I don’t know about or understand, but fairies or Bigfoot or something? I’d love it, but it’s a little hard to imagine.
If anyone could find them, though, it would be Oaklyn. And I have to admit, since I’ve lived here, I’ve seen some weird things. Floating lights at night, weird sounds drifting down from the mountain. There’s probably a boring, logical explanation, but who can say for sure?
Iwantto believe. I’m just not sure whether or not I actually do.
I shoot Oaklyn a smile. “I’ll try to come back later for a tart, okay?”
She nods and I head back out and finish my run, feeling sweaty and satisfied. Once back in my apartment, I pull on a pair of speed gloves, covering the tattoos on my fingers, and make my way over to the little boxing bag hanging in one corner. I go several rounds with it until both my arms and lungs are burning, and then sink onto the couch with a sigh.
I learned years ago that there are three ways for me to work off tension: baking, boxing, and biking. I’m taking a break from the first today, but not the rest. It’s the perfect day to hop on my motorcycle and get some wind in my hair.
I shower and change, then rev up my V Star for an afternoon of cruising around the outskirts of Haven’s Hollow. It’s a little town set by a lake, nestled in the crook of the mountains, so there’s plenty of open road nearby for riding and reminiscing.
It’s wild how different my life is now.
I grew up in tightly packed cities, bouncing from one foster home to the next, where each foster dad was just a little too friendly. It got worse in my late teens. My foster mom either didn’t believe or didn’t care that her husband was way too handsy with me, so I started spending as much time as possible out of the house.
Which is how I ended up with Evan. He was in his twenties and had perfected the whole bad boy persona. Except it wasn’t an act. He really was bad, and had his hands into all sorts of criminal pies. Drugs were his main thing, but he wasn’t above stealing or pimping. Even as I got swept up in it, I knew it was dangerous. Which is why I secretly recorded as much as I could on my phone. I guess I knew, even in the midst of it all, that I needed to protect myself somehow.
It all culminated in that night in his warehouse, when the cops raided him. I remember the gunshots, tucking myself into a corner behind some crates, hoping Evan didn’t find me. He had already accused me once of betraying him and he beat me so badly I was in the hospital for a week. That was when I knew I had to leave, but it still took a few months before I got away.
I knew if he found me that night, he would accuse me of being the one who sold him out and probably kill me. The weird thing is, it wasn’t me; to this day, I don’t know who did it. But I think in the end, they saved my life.
Luckily, the cops got to Evan before he discovered me hiding. I managed to sneak out, mail my phone to the detective in charge of Evan’s case, and disappear. I roamed around for years, too scared to stay in one spot for long, until I made my way to Haven’s Hollow, a place that finally, after a lifetime of searching, felt like home. After two years here, I love it more than ever.
I grin as the wind buffets my face. Life is finally good.
It’s nearly dark when I get back to my apartment; I spent all day on the bike and I’m exhausted and starving. I take another shower and throw together a quick meal of pasta and broccoli, then head straight to bed. I’m working tomorrow afternoon, and I need my rest. I just hope the nightmare doesn’t strike again tonight.
