Greyson

The stars were aligning in my favor. Not only had Blue and Jax been sold for the most I’d ever sold a dog, but I was going to be signing a contract for twelve dogs a year with the army. They were offering a massive amount of money to get first pick. That was an easy number for us to fill. It just meant less sold to the general public.

“Fuck, that group won’t take no for an answer,” Lennox grumbled, his face showing what he thought of the girls he’d been serving the last hour and the attention they were lavishing on him.

“Are they tipping well?” I shook the martini I was making.

“If you call smacking my ass and wanting selfies, tips, then yes. Otherwise, no. Fucking handsy bitches. I don’t know how you handle it with a smile all the time, man. Seriously, I want to rip their hands off their bodies.”

With a sly smile, I looked at my best friend. “I do,” I said, and he barked out a laugh.

“Good call. Maybe I should start burning their hands off. That would stop this bullshit.”

My nose crinkled at the thought of all that burnt flesh. “No thanks. I’ll stick to my method.”

“Hey, sexy,” one of the girls yelled and held up her empty glass, jingling the lone ice cube shaped like a skull. “I’m hot and thirsty over here.”

“Fuck my life,” Lennox said before turning around and walking to the girl. I glanced over my shoulder and snorted at the way she draped herself over the bar, her tits practically falling out of her low-cut top. She was licking her lips as Lennox leaned in to hear her order. With a single glance, I had her pegged. She was the typical, bored soccer mom. The ring on her finger said she was still married but unhappily or at least not getting any dick and was desperate for some attention. She wanted to feel like she hadn’t thrown her youth away to a man who didn’t give a fuck about her and the demon semen that sucked up all of her time. She was out on the prowl for someone, anyone, to clean out her dusty pussy with their cock. Lennox oozed sex appeal even if he hated the attention. It was funny. The harder she tried, the more uninterested Lennox became. I’d fuck her, but there was a good chance I’d kill her, and my quota for at least the next week was already fulfilled with Giles.

I wasn’t exactly a fan of the constant flirting myself, but I used my all-American, sexy looks and charm for the greater good. I’d been basking in the glow of attention from the time I first learned to throw a football. Being a star quarterback gets you all the girls, freebies, and spotlight you could ever want. I had more doors opened and opportunities given than anyone else. At the end of the day, I didn’t give a fuck one way or the other what anyone thought of me. It was all an act. The smile of an upstanding citizen of the city allowed me to hide who I really was in plain sight.

No one looked past the free shot I handed them with a wink. My jersey hung in the bar, and my accolades were on display in every corner to remind people who I was. It would fade, and then I’d have to come up with a new way to draw people in, but that was the nature of any business. Lennox worked his ass off, but I was the marketing guy, and since we took over for my parents, the bar had tripled in sales in a few short years.

“Here you go,” I said to the blonde who had ordered the dirty martini. “Just the way you like it, shaken, not stirred, extra dirty with three olives.” I smiled, and the girl lit up like fireworks on the Fourth of July.

“Do you have any plans later,” she asked, her finger purposely brushing mine as she laid the cash down. I’d bet that her number was hidden under the sizable tip. I took note of the tan line on her ring finger and smirked.

Leaning across the bar, I grazed her cheek with mine and groaned in her ear. Right on cue, her body shuddered. “Baby girl, I’d break your innocent pussy. I’d not only bend you over and fuck you so hard that you’d scream and beg me to stop, but I would ruin you forever.”

She nodded, making me smirk, and I knew that if I wanted to, I could drag her to the back and fuck her against a wall. All my darker urges were already rising, and just like Lennox’s desperate soccer mom, this girl would end up in my crypt when I was done. What I really desired was to watch her eyes go wide with shock as I slit her throat. I hadn’t found anyone who could handle that…yet. I wanted to feel them thrash and gasp while slowly dying, with my cock buried deep inside. I needed to feel the final moment when a person’s soul teetered on leaving the body forever or was yanked back from oblivion. I was positive that wasn’t what she had in mind for a good time.

“The problem with doing that is you’d spend the rest of your life with your husband fingering your pussy late at night while you dreamed of me. You’d spend the rest of your already tragic married life wishing you’d never gotten a taste of a real man.” Her body stiffened at the mention of her husband. “Drink your drink and go home. Thanks for the tip.”

I swiped the money off the bar top and moved on but watched as she grabbed her purse and left without touching the martini. What a waste of good alcohol. Picking up the discarded drink, I chugged it down and made a show of sucking the olives off the toothpick before putting the glass in the dirty bin.

“Don’t forget it’s your night to close,” I said to Lennox as he finished serving his side and grabbed a bottle of water.

“How could I forget with you reminding me every twenty minutes?”

“Gotta be sure you heard me, considering you left me hanging last week,” I clapped back.

“Fuck off, man, it was one shift that I forgot about. Give me a break already.” Annoying Lennox was an amusing pastime. I was sure the digs he got in on me were just as much fun for him, but I found it particularly entertaining to keep track of how many times I could piss him off during a shift.

The guys in the bar whistled as the dancers came out and hopped up on stage. This wasn’t a strip club, but having hot women dancing on tall pedestals never got old. They were all at different heights but connected by the main stage, and each had a pole to use. We still had a line out the door to get in here each night and two bouncers stationed outside, one to keep an eye on outside drinks and one to keep us from going over fire capacity. Luckily, I knew the fire chief. He was a fan when I played college ball, so the first night we were caught for being over max, I managed to talk my way out of being shut down. We quickly had to rethink how to keep patron numbers below the limit.

The rest of the night ran smoothly, and as things came to a close, I went to the cemetery. I really needed to get some fucking sleep, but instead, I grabbed a couple of Giles’s bones and my knife and wandered into the darkness. I ducked between the two mausoleums across from the one I wanted to watch before climbing the side of the taller one. It had a cross that I could lean on. This was a great spot. I could see in all directions and yet remain deep in the shadows.

Whittling didn’t come naturally to me, but I’d taught myself by watching videos and could proudly say I was now fucking great at it. The pieces I turned into art were sold in the bar as trinkets. Tourists ate up the lore of the area and assumed that what they were buying were animal bones. I smirked to myself, holding the shoulder blade up to see the intricate skull and filigree design I was working on.

As the sun began to rise, I slipped off my perch, annoyed that my mysterious woman had not returned. Tucking my work into the deep pockets of the long leather coat, I sheathed my knife. It was fine that she was avoiding me. There was more than one way to track someone down. Pulling out my phone, I stepped out from my hiding spot and took pictures of the tomb and the sixth-month token that was still there.

I marched down the path, looking like the embodiment of the Grim Reaper with the deep hood of my coat pulled up. I had a plan for my day off. Sleep came first, and then I needed to do some investigating.

Alora

I hated working the morning shift at the diner. The same guy had been coming in every morning for the last few months, but what started as harmless flirtation and a nice tip had quickly become uncomfortable.

It didn’t help that when I opened the diner, I was the only one working the front until seven, when the morning rush began. The first rays of the morning sun were just peeking through the trees when I reached Harper’s. There was no one in the parking lot, and yet, looking over my shoulder had become the norm.

Unlocking the door, I stepped inside and quickly relocked it behind me. Taking a deep breath, I turned around and screamed as Juan stepped out from the dark kitchen. He yelled and almost threw the tray of mugs he was carrying in the air.

“Jesus, girl, are you trying to kill me?”

I clutched at my chest. Even though I knew he would be here prepping for service, I still managed to make an ass of myself.

“I’m so sorry, Juan. Why are there no lights on in the back? All I saw was a shadow coming at me, and I screamed.”

“No power.” He shrugged. “I already called Miss Harper. She has someone heading over to check it out, but I’m running everything off a couple of generators. Luckily, these all got cleaned last night,” he said, putting the tray of coffee mugs down with the others.

“Well, that’s going to make the rush fun.” I shrugged out of my sweater and hung it up before stashing my purse under the counter.

“Tell me about it. So I don’t want to hear my bacon is overdone today, or I swear…oh, I did put the coffee on.”

“Thanks, Juan,” I said as someone pulled on the front door. I glanced at the time before turning around to confirm that we still had fifteen minutes until opening. As soon as my eyes landed on the man outside the door, I groaned. Great, asshole, at six o’clock. He scowled and pointed at the door like I didn’t know it was locked. Miss Harper prided herself on customer service, so I sucked up my disdain for the jerk and walked over to the door to unlock it.

As soon as he pulled, I took a step back. “Thomas, you’re early.”

“Yeah, what the hell is with the locked door? Miss Harper always has the door unlocked for me early. I should let her know you’re not holding up her usual standards.”

I gave him my best attempt at a sweet smile. “Oh, that’s not necessary. I was simply uninformed, but now I know. Would you like your usual booth,” I asked, grabbing a menu and heading down to his spot before he answered.

“I guess I’ll let it go this once. Do I get the coffee on the house, or do I get something sweeter?”

Even though he didn’t directly say he wanted me, the flick of his gaze down my body made the simple uniform dress feel like I was wearing lingerie. I wanted to throw up. Thomas wasn’t bad-looking and had a decent job, but he gave me the creeps. There was an edge to him that I couldn’t put my finger on. It was like he screamed rapist, even though I knew nothing of the sort about him. It was a horrible thing to think, but spending time in prison had honed my sixth sense, and it was waving ten red flags in the air above his head.

“One coffee coming right up, and I’ll see what Juan is cooking up in the back that has a sweet edge for you. Unfortunately, the electricity is out, so the selection might be limited today,” I said, laying the menu down even though I knew he wouldn’t use it and walked around him. He moved at the last second, just enough that I bumped into him and had to apologize.

“Yeah, watch where you’re going,” he said and smiled. I forced myself not to shiver in front of him before walking away. Pushing through the saloon-style doors to the back, I wrapped my arms around myself.

“Juan, do you have anything sweet made?”

“Just some cinnamon buns from last night.”

“That’ll work.” I waited until he came back with it and then quickly heated it in the microwave before plastering a smile on my face and walking out front. I poured Thomas’s coffee and wandered to the table with both in my hands. “Here you go,” I said, sitting them down.

His dirt brown eyes lifted to mine. The baseball cap and five o’clock shadow he was sporting added to his dangerous aura. He wore his usual plaid shirt and jeans while his truck outside announced that he owned his own contracting business. I couldn’t help wondering how many girls he lured into his truck, thinking he was a model citizen, only to be driven out of town and down a dark road.

Forcing myself to look away from his eyes, I pulled out my notepad and pen. “Are you ready to order?”

“You know what I want,” he said, and again it was veiled, but my skin crawled.

“So, just the usual, then?” Giving a curt smile, I grabbed the menu and turned to walk away, but Thomas snatched my wrist. His hand was overly hot on my arm, and I tried to yank it away, but he just smiled as if we were old friends joking around.

“What’s your hurry? There is no one in here but us,” he said, looking over his shoulder as if emphasizing just how quiet the diner was and how very little help I had if he wanted to get rough.

I tugged at my wrist again. “I’m sorry, Thomas, but I haven’t had a chance to properly open and set things up the way Miss Harper likes yet. I don’t have time to chat. Kindly let go.”

“Don’t be like that. Just take five minutes with me.”

I wasn’t going to give this guy any chance to say that I led him on and shook my head.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

With a huff, he let go. “Fine, but I wouldn’t expect a tip with that kind of attitude.”

Nodding, I walked away but clearly heard him whisper, “Cock tease,” under his breath. I ground my teeth but moved on. Men like him would never change their stripes. Unlike most, that few bucks he tipped made a real difference for me, but I’d rather eat scraps out of a garbage bin than spend a second longer than I had to with him for a tip.

The rest of my shift ran smoothly, or so I thought, until Miss Harper pulled me aside to talk. Walking behind her felt like being back in prison, following the line to get food, but knowing that something terrible was waiting for me. I’d lost count of how many times I had my meal taken or was threatened with a shiv stuck in my face.

Wandering into the office, Miss Harper closed the door. I swallowed back the worry as I sat. Did Thomas really put in a complaint about me?

“Dear, you know that I love you like family,” she said, sitting down across from me. I nodded. “The thing is, business has been slow, and I hate to do this, but I’m going to have to cut your hours back.” I looked down at my hands in my lap. This had been a worry of mine for the last six months when sales had started to dip. “This is nothing personal. I’ve already had to cut back the other girls, too. I never thought I’d wish for tourist season to begin early, but these are tough times.”

“I really need this job, Miss Harper. If there is anything extra I can do, please tell me, and I will find a way.”

She smoothed back the loose strands of the bun on her head. “I’m hoping it’s temporary, sweetie, I really am. Closing my doors for good seems….” She cleared her throat and wiped away a tear. “Like a nightmare. As soon as things pick up again, I’ll give you full-time hours right away.”

“Thank you, Miss Harper,” I said and left as she reached for a tissue on her desk.

Grabbing my sweater, I headed out the back and sucked in a ragged breath. I’d been through worse. I just needed to find another part-time job. Instead of heading to the shelter, I turned toward the Quarter. I usually avoided the party areas and the crowds of Bourbon Street. It was too much temptation to take a drink, watching everyone else partying and having a good time. Desperate times called for desperate measures. Someone had to be looking for a server, and hell, at this point, I’d do just about anything.