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She bustles off, and I sag against my chair. Brea McConnell is a fucking force of nature. Damn, I want to be that self assured when I grow up. It doesn’t matter that she’s maybe ten years older than I am.

There’s this acknowledgement that she can handle anything life throws at her, and it just hasn’t been that kind to me.

“Hi,” Marie says as she sits across from me.

“Hey, ready to get started? I’m Rachel,” I say.

It’s getting easier and easier to believe the lie, the more I tell it. Am I now a pathological liar? God, isn’t that a mind a fuck?

The reading goes really well, as she’s interested in finding out about a trip she’s about to take. Everything is positive, and I relax into the conversation. None of the tarot cards are inherently bad, many times depending on the placement, the lesson will be different.

My next client is an older woman who recently lost her husband, and I smile sadly at her.

I don’t understand that level of grief, but I am still living through a kind of loss that I can’t seem to recover from.

Everything in my life was ripped away from me, and now I’m figuring out how to rise from the ashes.

Except, the ashes are still smoldering, continuing to burn me alive. Is it possible to be punished forever for being young and dumb?

Before I know it, it’s two in the morning, and I’m done for the night. I can honestly say I loved every moment, and the shop stayed busy, despite the odd hours it keeps. Whoever thought this concept would flop was wrong.

Together, Brea and I make sure the shop is in good condition for tomorrow, and I say goodbye to her.

“It’s so much easier to do all of this with help,” she says with a light laugh. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you,” I say with a nod, stepping outside. The breeze moves across my skin as I begin walking, and I think about my schedule.

While the shop is open six nights a week from four in the afternoon to two in the morning, I’m only working four of them. It’ll allow me time to relax and do some online schooling. I’m supposed to start next year, and I finished high school online as well with my new name.

I know a lot of effort has gone into hiding me. I appreciate all the worry from my benefactor, as well as the time put in to give me an entirely new identity. I’m able to walk the streets without any more fear than that created in my own mind.

I know there are dangers lurking in the world outside of the Kings Society, which is why I have a mini stun gun in my back pocket. I fully plan to walk back and forth to work, even at this late hour. I don’t need a car, and the street lights appear to be working just fine.

Arriving at the corner of the intersection to cross, I hear footsteps approaching quickly. Glancing over my shoulder, I see a man in a suit with blonde hair in a slicked back mohawk, his eyes glaring at me.

“Not again, you can’t be doing this shit to me again!” he yells like a mad man, rushing me.

Screaming, I scramble back, grabbing my stun gun and pushing the button on the side up to arm it.

Somehow, he’s in a pocket of shadow, and the streetlights no longer feel as safe as they did a few seconds ago. Maybe I was wrong, maybe I can’t fucking handle the real world.

“Don’t come any closer,” I squeak, my finger hovering over the push button trigger. When I bought it online, I wanted to ensure that it would be easy for me to handle.

It’s also one of the things that helped me talk myself out of the house earlier today. I feel lightheaded, and my chest is hurting as I take another step back.

“Why are you stalking me!” the man screams. He sounds familiar, yet I don’t know why. I don’t know anyone in Montecito. That’s what made this area so special.

Complete anonymity. Ha, so much for that.

“I’m…I don’t know who you are,” I tell him, shaking my head. “Please stay away from me.”

“No, I need to know that you’re not real,” he says. “I need this…”

As the light falls over his face, he’s also reaching out to touch me, and my hand is shoving the stun gun just below his armpit. It’s the highest I can reach, and my vision is starting to blacken.

Fuck, I think I stopped breathing.

His brown shocked eyes are the last thing I see before they roll back and he collapses at my feet. Holy fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Sinking to my knees as I drop my hand, I ask myself if this really happened. Pulling out my phone with my other hand that’s trembling, I force myself to breathe. My entire body hurts as I pull in the oxygen, my vision clearing at an alarmingly slow rate.

I space out as I dial one of two numbers that I regularly call, and it takes a second before I hear him yelling at me through the phone where it’s resting on my knee. Fuck, I have to get my shit together.

I’ll disassociate about this later.

Bringing my phone up to my ear, I stop the increasing alarm and frequency of the Spanish coming from the other end of the line.

“I’m here,” I rasp, tears beginning to leak from my eyes. “Emil, is Elijah Fletcher here? He ran at me as I was walking home from work. He was freaking the fuck out!”

“I never asked you where work is,” Emil says, cursing under his breath. “It’s been one thing after another for me. Take a breath for me, it’s doing the thready shit right before you pass out. Good. Is he standing in front of you now?”

“He’s kind of passed out,” I whisper, taking a painful breath. My body is so stiff, everything hurts. “I used my stun gun on him. He tried to touch me.”

“Then he deserved your stun gun,” he grunts. “No one gets to touch you without permission, not ever. Now, where are you working, mija?”

“Cellie’s Mystics,” I reply dully.

“Hey! No te alejas de mi , Rachelle,” he growls. “Stay with me. I have a lot to tell you. Leave el pendejo in the street. I’ll have someone collect him, okay? Someday he needs to learn that when you fuck around, you may just find out. Get up.”

His insistent tone helps me force steel into my veins to push myself up to stand. Gently kicking Elijah’s body to see if he’s alive, I shrug as his chest rises and falls. This is more courtesy than he allowed me.

“I’m up,” I mutter. “The asshole is breathing.”

“Good, good. I’m texting someone as we speak to get him. Please look both ways before crossing the street,” he says. “I really don’t need to lose you and end up with more gray hair, alright?”

Lips twitching because he does have more grays in his dark hair, I glance both ways before switching off my stun gun and pocketing it. The last thing I need is to be stopped by the police.

Fuck, why is my life so odd?

“Alright, old man. Spill your guts to me,” I say, crossing the street.

“ Mija , we would be on the phone for a very long time if I did that, and some of it isn’t my story to tell,” he sighs. “I’ll tell you what I can.”

The walk home is eye opening, and I decide I may not leave my apartment again for a while. The wolves are in my town.

I didn’t even know it.