“Enough of this,” Rafael snipped, glaring at Reaver. “You two need to get over whatever it is that’s going on between you. You’re both coming in tomorrow to work through training. I expect you here at ten in the morning, and you will be training until the openers come in. We have a big bachelor party buying out the entire restaurant next weekend, and I need you both to have your shit figured out by then.”
Fuck. I did not want to spend my entire day off with this fucking asshole, but I wasn’t really in a position to argue. I needed this job.
“Okay. I’ll come prepared with some worksheets, and we can get started on free pours,” I said, forcing myself to tackle this challenge like I did everything else. I reminded myself of how much I had already suffered through and survived. There was no way I was letting some douchebag bartender bring me down.
“Fine. Whatever,” Reaver said, sounding bored. He stood up to leave despite the fact that Rafael hadn’t dismissed us. I scowled after him.
“You need to get him to work with you, Lilith, or things are not going to go well for you.”
I whipped around, glaring at Rafael. “You said you were going to talk to him!”
Rafael gave me a stern look. “I will, but you need to do your part here too.”
This all felt incredibly unfair. I was sure there were tons of people out there who would die for a chance to bartend at Voodoo. Why were we entertaining the temper tantrums of this tattooedpretty boy?
“Fine,” I snapped and grabbed my coat. “But this is bullshit.”
I had never spoken to Rafael like that before, and his mouth dropped open as I stormed out. I didn’t care, though. I just wanted to go home, snuggle my cat, and watch a movie.
This night had been shit.
I burst out the back door of the restaurant into the alley that led to the subway and found Reaver smoking with Shem. I scowled. The last thing I wanted was to talk to him, so I kept my head down and brushed by, avoiding eye contact.
“Off to murder your next victim, deathtrap?” Reaver sneered on my way by. I stopped in my tracks and whipped around to face him. Shem took one look at me and stepped back.
“Easy Reav, don’t piss her off too much,” he murmured, looking unnerved. I frowned, wondering if Reaver had been filling his head with lies. I wasn’t really in a position to have friends, but if I was, I would have considered Shem a friend.My eyes darted back and forth between them, and I suddenly realized that Reaver could very well turn Shem against me.
The anger melted out of me, and I abruptly found myself feeling tired and sad. I felt my eyes burn with tears again, and I let Shem see how hurt I was. He frowned, but it was Reaver who stepped toward me, flicking away his cigarette. To my shock and horror, he reached out and curled a finger under my chin, tilting my head up to face him.
His gorgeous hazel eyes searched mine, taking in the wetness that had gathered. He leaned forward, put his lips next to my ear, and a shiver of revulsion coursed through me. I tried to step away from him, but he gripped my jaw and snatched up my wrist, holding me in place.
His large hand wrapped around my leather cuff, and I felt him dig a finger under the lip of the thick bracelet. I gasped as he stroked the scar beneath. He must have seen them poke out when I was reaching up for the Blue Label earlier.
“You going to cry again, deathtrap?” he hissed into my ear as he pressed his finger harder into my scar, making me wince. “Let me see those pretty tears.”
I yanked away from him, pushing him off me as hard as I could. He let go and stepped back, giving me the most sinister smile I’ve ever seen.
I glanced over at Shem, my face white with shock and humiliation.
He looked uncomfortable. “Dude, that was pretty fucked up.”
Reaver shrugged and lit another cigarette, making eye contact with me again. His eyes flashed in the dark. “I have a feeling our little deathtrap likes it fucked up.”
Alexa, play‘Monster (Under my bed)’by Call Me Karizma
"Monsters are real, and ghosts are real too. They live inside us, and sometimes, they win."
—STEPHEN KING, CASTLE ROCK
Iran, and the shadows seemed to chase me as I rushed home. I cried the whole time on the subway. I felt raw and broken by the time I made it to my front door.
I didn’t deserve this. I just wanted to do my job and live my life as peacefully as possible, considering the fact that I was clearly cursed.
It was bad enough that I had fucking Death stalking me, but now I needed to be bullied at work too? If there was a God, he must fucking hate me. The worst thing was I didn’t even have anyone to turn to or confide in. All I had was Chaos, and when I burst into my apartment, my heart sank to find that he wasn’t there waiting for me. I pretended he was out hunting Reaver instead of mice to cheer myself up.
Feeling like absolute shit, I dropped my coat and bag on the couch and went straight to bed. My fingers itched for a blade. I wanted nothing more than to take out some of this pent-up stress and anger on myself, but the hole in Chaos’picture was enough to keep me from reaching for the box cutter that lay beneath my mattress.
Stripping out of my uniform, I pulled on a pair of boy shorts and an oversized Sleep Token T-shirt before sliding under the covers. I checked the time on my phone. 3:32 am. Fuck. I had to be back at the bar by ten am to train my fucking tormentor. There was no way I was even going to be able to get eight hours.
