Page 73 of Shattered Souls

I turn an aisle, ramming my cart into said woman I’m day dreaming of. We stare at each other. Her eyes round, lips curling into an uncertain smile.

“Would it make this situation any better if I just said I was coming in to pee?” She’s lucky we’re in public. Because if we were anywhere else, I’d have her on her knees with my cock shoved down her throat.

“Would that be the truth?” She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth and shrugs her shoulders.

“God dammit.” I motion for her to come. She giggles, scampers over to me, and wriggles between my chest and the cart.

“Can we have a movie night?” She asks, plucking a bag of chips from the shelf and depositing it into the cart. I reach in, grab the chips, and place them back on the shelf.

“You disobeyed me, little scarecrow, no snacks for you.” She crosses her arms. I lean down, bringing my mouth to the shell of her ear, and whisper; “Take your punishment before I make it much more intimate in the middle of this store.” That gets her. She places her hands on the cart and walks past the chips.

“Plus,” I say following behind her. “I got you some snacks. And if you behave the rest of this trip, I’ll give them to you.” She wriggles her brows, looking into the cart at the candy.

“Surprised you know my favorites already.” It’s gummies. That’s it. Anything gummy or sour she loves.

We grab a few more things. Mainly dinner ingredients, but occasionally we add small unnecessary things in. She adds two separate pairs of sweatpants into the cart, complaining I only buy her shorts. It’s true—but her legs are just too nice to not look at everyday.

She gets a new sketchbook for Hayze, telling me he filled his last one and mentioned in passing he needed a new one. She tosses a pack of heated muscle patches into the cart.

“What’s that for?” She doesn’t bother looking at me, just keeps walking as she talks over her shoulder.

“You. You’ve been rubbing your shoulder the last few days. I was hoping it’d help.” Fuck.

What did we possibly do to deserve someone as tender as her? How does she see things like that and quietly try to fix it? The sketch book, the patches, they’re both silent solutions to problems neither of us even really put thought to.

“Well, thank you.” She’s not listening. She’s frozen in place as an older couple stares at her, whispering to each other.

“Rayvn, go to the car.” I keep my voice down so as to not draw more attention to us.

“Why are they looking at me, Synn?” She backs up, pressing her back into my chest. I instinctively place a hand on her hip, needing to know she’s okay.

“Rayvn, baby, I need you to go to the car.” She looks up, pinning me with her green eyes. “I promise you’re safe. Just go to the car, pretty girl.” She nods absentmindedly and leaves me in the middle of the aisle, going in the opposite direction of the older couple.

Giving the couple a death glare, I leave and check out. I quickly head to the car to find her. I throw the driver door open to see her sobbing in the passenger seat. These IDs better be here soon.

“They recognized me,” Not a question. She knows it, just as much as I do.

“I told you to stay in the car.” I’m not angry with her, I’m angry that she’s in this situation in the first place. Angry that all of us are in this fucked up life of uncertainty.

I wake up later in the week to find Rayvn missing from bed. Hayze is knocked out, arm still splayed out like he was just holding her. I tumble out of bed, blindly swiping at my nightstand for my phone. The tiredness vanishes from my eyes when I see the missing device.

I exit my room, and immediately I’m hit with the soft sound of singing and the scent of something sweet cooking. Rayvn’s stirring something in a bowl, back turned to me, quietly singing a slow and sad song.

I lean against the island, just listening to her voice float around the soon to be empty house. When the song reaches its climax she spins, eyes finally landing on me, and lets out a small scream that borders a squeak.

“You scared me!” She turns, presses pause on my phone, and resumes cooking.

“You took my phone.” Her shoulders bounce.

“I didn’t realize I could voice command your phone to do things. I would’ve done this a long time ago, if I’d known.” With a smile, I walk over and wrap my arms around her waist. There’s pancakes sizzling in a small pool of butter, the heat from the pan warming her stomach, and now my hands.

“Hey, Synn,” One of her hands rests on mine, her thumb stroking my skin idly.

“Yes?”

“I’ve been wondering,”

“A dangerous task.” She swats my arm with her spatula. I laugh but squeeze her tighter. “What’s got that pretty head reeling?”