Chapter 9

The old man woke me up with a smack to the face.

I never thought I'd be grateful for someone hitting me, but in that instance, I was. My head would explode, my abused stomach finally wanted to run away, and the long and lonely walk to the shop might as well have been a climb of Mount Everest.

Regardless, I made it, lacking the bells but still whole. Zeke looked up from behind the counter when I stepped inside. He had a mug of coffee in his hand, and a paper in the other. He sat them down and stood when he saw me.

"Hey, now! There she is." He smiled. "Charlene!" His smile widened as he turned back to me. "You're gonna get it, girl."

I paused, but before I could even process what he meant, Charlene bounded out of the hallway with hands on hips. She clasped her chest when she saw me standing there, as if she's been... worried.

My brow furrowed.

She closed the gap between us like she'd known me all my life and wrapped me in a hug. "Goodness, girl. You took off before I could get to you." She pulled away but left one arm draped across my back. Before I knew it, she was leading me away.

A look over my shoulder revealed an amused Zeke.

Charlene pulled me down the hall and into a door at the end of it. It was a break room of sorts. Two couches, a television, a counter with a coffee maker. Wood paneled walls and unstapled carpet was a good attempt of setting it apart from the rest of the shop.

She left me standing inside the doorway and walked to a small closet in the right corner. "I've got you some stuff," she said, pulling out a plastic shopping bag. "It's not much." She handed it to me. "But you seemed like you could use it." She smiled, then grabbed another bag from the counter, this one a pouch.

I eyed the bounty she'd handed me. The plastic bag was packed neatly with clothes, and the pouch had a clear window that revealed the basic toiletries inside. My throat constricted.

Her eyes softened. "Come on. I'll show you where the bathroom is. You can freshen up before your first day."

My heart skipped. A shower was among my top ten things to do before I died. It was something I'd taken for granted. The amount of grime on my skin felt solid, and no sink bath would ever be enough to fix it. My hair was a grease trap. A mixture of shame and gratitude tightened my chest.

Charlene took my hand in a light hold then squeezed it. She pulled me back through the door and down the hall. The next door had been hidden, and looked more like the cover to a pantry than a room, but behind it might as well have been a spa.

A shower fitted within the corner. Just big enough for me to stand in one spot, but glorious all the same.

I'm going to live in that fucking thing.

Charlene patted my shoulder. "Take your time. There's nothing he needs you to do that can't wait."

I grinned at her back as she stepped away, then closed myself into the tight room. What little space I had to move wasn't quite enough to get comfortable. I rested the bags onto the toilet lid and opened the larger one.

One by one, I pulled out each item and draped it wherever I could. Across the small sink, the back of the toilet, then the little floor space around my feet. All in all, I had three pairs of jeans, a sweater, two new t-shirts, and one soft leather jacket. I ran a hand along the jacket and swooned. It would be warm. The fleece lining combined with the thick hide would be a godsend as the temperature dropped. I left it out along with one pair of jeans and the sweater, then packed the rest back how it'd been.

When I started to undress, I paused.

Th flannel.

His flannel.

I'd been so rushed to get to work, I hadn't even noticed it.

But, now...

I yanked it off, balled it into my fist and shoved it inside, cramming it as deep as I could into the bottom as if by burying it, I'd bury all thoughts of dark eyes and smooth words.

The shower heated as if it'd been waiting all its existence for me, and when I stepped inside, the groan I let out could have warranted some raised brows.

I washed with the soap she'd given, then rinsed and repeated the action three times. Then again with my hair and the strawberry scented shampoo. I stepped out feeling cleaner than I'd ever been in my life. I brushed my hair, my teeth.

The clothes were snug despite my malnutrition. It seemed my butt would never leave. It didn't need food to survive. Still, I managed to force them up with a little jumping, and the rest followed easily. No underwear, but it didn't matter. I had clean skin, clean hair, and clean clothes warmer than the thinning shit I'd come in with.

I made my way back down the hallway.

The moment I stepped into the main room, Boe let out a low whistle. "Don't you shine up nice."

My face heated.

Zeke rumbled a laugh. "C'mere, Jessie. Have a seat." He motioned to the station between his and the blue haired girl's. "You can just observe for today."

I walked over and perched onto the stool, then offered each of them a look I hoped seemed friendly. Inside, I was wound tighter than the ass of my new jeans. Not only did the unknown of my situation still put me on edge, but making friends hadn't been on my list of things to do in a considerably long damn time.

"Scarlet," the blue haired girl said as she rolled her stool closer to me. She extended her hand, and I took it with a nod.

"Jessie."

"What's your story, Jessie?"

My mouth clamped shut at the huge question.

"Scarlet," Zeke scolded. He'd focused back on his coffee, paper in hand, and didn't even bother looking up as he spoke.

"Scarlet is incapable of social interaction. The inner bitch inside her doesn't know how to read people and be polite." Boe sat with his back leaned against the wall, hands clasped on his stomach, lips curved in a toothy cat-like grin. Eyes on me.

I looked away.

Scarlet snorted. "It's not a weird question. We all know Zeke treats this place like a humane society." Her eyes met mine. "Don't worry. Without the getting put to sleep part. Well, except maybe when Boe tries to be funny."

"I'm hysterical."

Her eyes stayed locked with mine as she shook her head slowly and mouthed, he's not.

"I just needed a job."

She rolled her eyes and pushed her chair back into her station.

Boe pushed away from the wall and rolled until he was center aisle between the two of us. "Scarlet is too blunt for her own good. Don't let her scare you off."

"I'm not scared." I almost laughed. I was fucking terrified, but not of blunt questions. If they knew the kind of trouble I would bring, the kind of disaster that would spill onto them just from association, I was sure they'd be far less open.

"Might as well get her used to this place. Rip off the bandaid," Scarlet said. She'd set to work sketching something onto a pad held in her lap, but looked up after she spoke. "Zeke and Charlene try to save the damned."

I looked over at Zeke. He slowly lowered his paper, lips thinned, looking as if his child had just said a curse word at the table.

I narrowed my eyes. "Like... a Church?" Or a cult? Please tell me I didn't join a cult.

Scarlet and Boe both laughed.

"I give jobs to people," Zeke said, attention on Scarlet. "Perhaps too easily."

She mock gasped and clasped a hand to the center of her chest. "You don't mean that, Papa Bear."

Zeke grumbled under his breath as he turned back to his paper.

"Fine. Since everyone wants to act like their shit story is a secret." Scarlet sat her sketch down and crossed her arms. "Hi. I'm Scarlet, and I'm a lesbian with fanatical parents, who shot one little firework at a cheerleader and got kicked out of school for it."

"You blew her finger off," Boe said, grin wide.

"They reattached the shit! Her finger is fine!"

"It was five years ago."

"Exactly!"

I stared between them, eyes round, brows lifted, and lips more curved than I'd have liked for them to be.

The room settled as Scarlet stared at Boe.

"What?" He leaned upright on his stool. "This isn't a thing, Scarlet. I'm not telling my shit like this is some kind of AA meeting."

"Why is it you feel like you can't share, Boe?" Scarlet asked, tone soft yet serious, hand propped under her chin.

"Fuck off."

She laughed. "Fine. What you do need to know, though, is don't go into the west wing."

Boe barked a laugh.

"Scarlet," Zeke said again, tone a warning.

"What?" She rolled closer to me. "The RV out back has a Sasquatch like creature inside it. If anyone besides Zeke tries to go in there, it roars their ass right out again. Trust me. I know. I was drunk one day and tried to take a piss in there. Almost damn died."

"You did not almost die," Zeke sat his paper down and turned with a look that made her roll back into her station. "That's enough. How about you finish the tattoo you're supposed to have done in an hour. Boe, roll your ass back over and clean that damn station."

Just like that, the atmosphere shifted. Thoroughly scolded, neither one of the pair said another word, and Zeke met my gaze with an apologetic–yet grim– smile. "Sorry about that. Don't mind them." He picked up his coffee, stared at the paper, then sat it back down as if whatever had been said had ruined his ability to enjoy it. "I'm gonna go see where Charlene got off to."

I watched him go, then looked over at the pair still busy at work.

If I'd learned anything my first day on the job, it was to avoid the fucking motorhome.

This one had a lot of changes! What did you think?