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“I think we can make that work,” she says batting her eyelashes. “Do you have a few minutes to spare before you go back to work?”
“For you? Absolutely.”
Picking up her keys from the counter she jingles them at me, “I was hoping you’d say that. Do me a favor and flip the sign back to closed, and then lock the door?”
Raising an eyebrow, I take the keys from her hands eagerly, “Is that so?”
“It is,” she says cocking her head towards the back door and hopping down off the counter in one fluid movement. As soon as the door is locked and the sign is flipped, I make my way back over to Lorelei, scoop her up in my arms, and carry her upstairs only pausing every few steps to kiss her without making us both tumble down the stairs.
Chapter 8
Lorelei
Entering my shop to open for the day, my blood runs cold. In the middle of the shop stands the mystery man. It’s been days since he last made an appearance and Dustin and Drew have been taking turns watching the shop, where are they now?
How the hell did he get in here?
The man turns around slowly to face me. There’s a smile on his lips and an eerily vacant expression in his eyes. “Good morning sweet Lorelei,” his voice is melodic like a creepy nursery rhyme. “I’ve been waiting to see you for so long, but you’ve been so cruel to me. Flouncing around town with that stupid lug of a man. Don’t you see how you and I could be so much better together?”
“Good morning,” I say slowly trying to take a step backward.
“Ah… ah… ah, don’t you go anywhere. I’ve finally gotten you to myself for a moment. I won’t let this opportunity pass by.” He says staring directly into my eyes.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know your name,” I say trying my best to sound friendly and interested, even though my blood has run cold, and my heart might just burst out of my ribcage. I want to throw up, I want to run, I want to scream.
“You will, in time,” he takes a step forward, the scent of a woody oil fills my nostrils. Harnessing every bit of willpower, I stand my ground. I want to run but I know that even if I did, I wouldn’t be able to make it upstairs or out of the front door before he’d reach me, and what would he do then?
“So, what would you like me to call you then?” I ask trying to sound calm.
“What I want is for you to shut up and listen to me for once,” the man’s face is now lit up with rage.What did I ever do to him?
I press my lips together stopping myself from going off on him. This guy needs a more delicate touch, he’s...volatile.
“Very good, very good Lorelei, you’re a quick study.” He takes another step forward and every single hair on my body stands on edge. “I like it when you listen to me. You talk too much. I don’t like that about you but it’s good to see you are amenable to change. Pretty girls should be seen more than they are heard, don’t you agree?”
Where did this loser come from?I shift my eyes over to my counter, on the shelf underneath there is usually a handgun. A handgun that is now gone.
“Naughty girl,” the man says with a frown and then reaches into the back of his waistband and pulls out my gun, pointing it at me. “Looking for this?”
Shit, of course, he’s already searched the shop. This is, really, not good.
“You hurt my feelings, Lorelei. What were you going to do? Shoot me? Why would you want to hurt me when all I want to do is help you?” He licks his lips and lets his hand with the gun in it drop to his side.
My heart is pounding in irregular rhythmic palpations and my stomach’s acid feels like it’s rising to my throat.
“Well,” he says smiling too serenely, “at least you are still being quiet. Mother never knew when to shut up.”
Mother? Great. This is one of those American Psycho-type weirdos, isn’t it?
Where is Isaiah?He’s been here every morning to help me open, but the one day I need him to be here, he is completely MIA.
“I bet you’re wondering where that thick-headed man of yours is?” He scoffs bitterly, “If you can even call him a man.”
A lot more of a man than you are! I want to scream, but I hold myself together. Not moving, not even an inch, and keeping my lips shut tight.
“Did you know grease fires can be extremely difficult to put out? He’s going to have his hands full for quite a while.” The man shrugs and takes another step forward. He is now only a foot away from me and I am losing my patience by the second for his stupid games.
“Mother always told me I wasn’t a real man. You remind me of her, she had bright red hair like yours and an undeserved air of arrogance,” he says reaching out and grabbing a curl, twisting his finger around it, and then tugging hard.
