Vacant restaurants at night like this used to really freak me out, but I’ve been through so much that it takes a lot to rattle me. Certainly not a quiet diner.
The person casing the farm will realize it’s a shithole soon and leave, I tell myself.
“Hello?” I call out gently for a staff member since no one has come to greet me yet. I fish out my phone to see if they have Wi-Fi here since I can make phone calls if connected to the internet.
Crap.Of course they don’t.
A waitress in a nineties-looking diner uniform comes out from the swinging door. She sets down an empty mug and lifts a pot of coffee. She doesn’t ask me if I want any, but she raises her brow, indicating that she’s offering.
My legs bounce anxiously as I take her in. She doesn’t look like the friendly type, judging by her frown and narrowed eyes that study me as thoroughly as I do her. She’s a gorgeous brunette; I’ll give her that. If it wasn’t so late and I wasn’t sotired, I might’ve tried having a conversation with her. Maybe another night.
“Do you guys have a phone I can use?” I ask as I nod toward the coffee cup for her to fill it.
She doesn’t reply right away; she chews her gum and stares at me with an uninterested expression. “Yeah, we’ve got one of those,” she mutters slowly as she fills up the mug with black coffee. I half expect her to ask me if I want cream, but she turns on her heel before I can even ask.
How pleasant.
I slip off the barstool to look around for the phone. This diner is bigger than I expected. It has an entire other section that wraps around the side. As soon as I make it around the other end, I hear laughter spilling into the building as a group of people come in through the front door.
So therearepeople who live in this town. The sound of people chatting soothes my nerves a little. It’s weird, but this place just gives me a bad feeling. Like when you enter a building and you feel eyes on you—that’s how this entire town feels. Like I’m being watched. A shudder runs down my spine.
I make a note to not watch any horror movies for the foreseeable future, even though they’re my favorite.
I continue to look for the phone and find it in the back. A stretch of black and white tiles leads up to a vintage red phone booth. It almost feels like I’ve gone back in time. These old diners have always been a favorite of mine for that reason. They hold so much charm. My dad used to take me to them when I was younger, and we’d order pancakes every single time. I smile to myself at the almost fuzzy memory.
I miss him. I wonder what he would think if he could see me now. Flipping my life upside down at twenty-five because of an asshole ex and running to the first escape option that pops up… It’s not what I ever planned for my life to look like, but I neverhad much of a running start. Dad died when I was eight; Mom, when I turned thirteen. I can’t remember what they looked like, or even where my childhood took place. Just the warm memories of comfort while they were still alive.
My family is cursed to die out. It’s a fate that has slowly unfolded. Maybe it’s why I never really tried to make anything of myself or ?pursue my passions. I always sort of thought death was coming for me next.
And it did. Callum saw to that, and now I have severe trust issues.
My old therapist said I should try to look at the positives instead of all the bad things in my life. He always wore a sharp black suit and tapped his fingers on the table.At least I’mnotdead.I grin grimly to myself.
I pick up the phone and dial the police. The phone rings once, then goes straight to voice mail. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” I curse as I set the phone back down on the ringer harder than necessary.
Of course, this town doesn’t have a full-service police station, but they have a twenty-four-hour diner, which makestotalsense. I guess waiting for that car to leave before heading back is my only option. I check my phone for the time.Midnight.Maybe a few hours will be enough time. I can sip on coffee and eat for that long.
The ten-hour drive here already took it out of me. The last thing I want to do is camp at this diner and wait, but I don’t really see any other option right now.
I stop in the bathroom and freshen up. After washing my hands, I reluctantly look at myself in the mirror. My ombre ashy-brown-to-blond hair is a tangled mess, and my eyes have dark circles around them.
Sleep wouldn’t be so hard if I didn’t have night terrors about what Callum did that night. I shut my eyes and fist my handsat my sides.No.If anyone can escape that memory, it’s me.I’ve got this.I firm my resolve and look back at the mirror, redoing my ponytail and tying my hoodie strings so it doesn’t look so disorderly. I don’t need any more judgmental looks from the freaking waitress.
I walk back out to the main dining area and spot four men sitting at a booth in the corner. They’re loud and rowdy and look like they could be in a biker gang. They’re wearing all black: slick sport jackets, jeans, and combat boots. Each of them has a muscular build and trouble written all over their foreheads. By the way they’re dressed and lounging, I’d guess that they are only a handful of years older than me at most.
I quickly avert my gaze before I get too interested in them. The last thing I need is to make eye contact with one and have my time here filled with whatever drama they’re sure to bring. Guys like them always have bad things they drag around. And if there’s one thing I don’t need, it’s bad guys with baggage. Seems to be my weakness.
I head back to the bar for my cup of coffee, but just as I’m sitting down, one shouts over at me, “Hey, cutie!”
My cheeks turn red, but I don’t look their way. Ignoring horny idiots is usually the best way to avoid their harassment.
Hurry up, waitress. Come back out here so I can order food—to go, so I can head back to my car and eat in private.My leg starts bouncing again.
I shut my eyes and take a sip of the hot black coffee; choking it down would be an understatement—it’s so bitter that it makes me grimace.
The next thing I know, an arm wraps around my shoulders, and the smell of cheap beer coils around me. A shiver goes up my spine, and I fist my hands against the countertop instinctively. Who the fuck walks up and touches a stranger like that?
“Didn’t you hear me?” a smooth voice murmurs against my ear.
