Page 18 of Lunar Crest University

I’ve committed many sins in my thirty-four years of life, but none were as enticing as Finley Dunaway. She’s like a flame, an entire inferno. I’d be stupid to step head-first into the roaring blaze. This job is important. This new lease on life is important. Getting away from my past isimportant. But what if I like the way it burns?

Chapter Seven

FINLEY

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 8TH, 2023

Celestial Reads is normally stagnant on Sunday nights, leaving me to bask in the smell of coffee beans and fresh books as I clean the café. It’s a tiny, cozy coffee shop I’ve been visiting since I was twelve years old, and one I’ve been working at since I was seventeen. With nooks to perch in, quiet music drifting in the background, and circular tables lining the front window, it’s arguably as warm and inviting as my apartment. It is the only job I’ve ever had, and I love it.

Oscar, the old man who owns the café who’s pushing eighty years old, has known my parents since they were teenagers. I always knew him as the man who snuck me freshly baked brownies whenever I visited with my mother. It was our secret—one that, to this day, no one knows about. Now, I don’t have to sneak them. I can waltz back into the kitchen and steal them as he bakes, earningthe lookas Oscar swats me away.

Wiping the brownie crumbs from my apron, I stare out the window at the rain that soaks the leaves on the ground, devouring the last bite of the warm brownie as my shift slowlycomes to a close. I’m thankful I remembered to bring a rain jacket with me to work, because the walk home wouldn’t be as enjoyable as my walks normally are in the current downpour.

Oscar bustling out of the kitchen and setting down a to-go box with two brownies inside it tears me away from the weather, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips.

“For the road,” he grumbles with a sigh.

“What would I do without your brownies, Oscar?” I question teasingly, untying my apron and tugging it from my waist.

“Save some trips to the dentist.”

I snicker as I open the door to the kitchen, slinging my apron on the hook and retrieving my jacket. As I shove my arms into the sleeves, I fluff out my hair before zipping up the front. Popping my head up, I examine the umbrella in his outstretched hand.

“Take this,” he orders gruffly.

“I should start tipping you, huh?”

“Take the damn umbrella before I hit you over the head with it, child.”

I snort as I take the umbrella, scooping up the box of brownies as I head toward the door. The rain pounds against the roof, streams of water rushing down the street into storm drains. As I push open the door and whisk the umbrella out, I glance over my shoulder with a wide smile.

“Thanks, old man.”

The pavement emits a sweet, musty scent from the rain as I walk down the sidewalk, my boots sloshing in the water pooling on the concrete. The chill in the air wraps around me like a blanket, ruffling my hair and nipping at my nose. The clouds are a dark gray above me, gloomy and dull as I turn the corner to the alleyway closest to my apartment.

A clap of thunder reverberates through the small town of Lunar Crest, making me flinch, and the umbrella vibrates in myhand as I shake my head at myself. Feeling silly, I suck in a deep breath as I walk down the ominous-looking alley.

A startled gasp leaves my lips as a pair of large arms wrap around my waist as I walk past a dumpster, tugging me backward and shoving me against the cold, damp brick wall. The box of brownies crashes to the pavement beneath my feet. My heart drops into my stomach as my eyes fall on the same man I stumbled across that night trying to hurt Luca. His dark eyes narrow as he clamps a dirty hand over my mouth, muffling the scream that escapes my lips at the realization.

I’m going to die.

He’s going to murder me.

“I figured I’d catch you here eventually,” he growls, pressing against me as he pins me to the wall, making my head spin nauseatingly. “I’ve been looking for you, Peach.”

I whimper against his palm, my chest seizing as I struggle to breathe through my nose. My hands grip the brick, my nails digging into the hardened surface as my eyes water. I can feel my heartbeat in my throat, my ears, my stomach.

“You saw something you shouldn’t have that night. Do you know what happens when people witness something they’re not supposed to?”

As his face lowers next to mine, my eyes flutter closed as I try to turn my head away. His breath smells of cigarettes, and it only makes me feel even more sick to my stomach as I cringe away from him. He’s a lot larger than me. His bald head is covered in tattoos, and his left eyebrow is separated by a long scar that runs down his forehead and cheekbone. Everything about him is dark and terrifying.

I etch him into my memories, store him there in case I make it out of this.

While his left hand grips my jaw, clamping over my lips, staining them with the dirt from his skin, his other hand creepsdown my torso, digging into my waist as he pulls me against him. A feeble whine vibrates his palm as my chest heaves, the bile rising in my throat from his touch.

No, no, no.

Ideas of different ways to defend myself flicker through my mind, but my body doesn’t react. I want so badly to reach up and claw at him, tug him away from me, scratch him, but my fingers are frozen against the brick. I am rigid underneath him. Panic sets quickly into my veins, and the shakes ripple through me as I come to terms with the fact that he’s probably going to kill me.

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