Page 354 of Bad for Me

I perked up at that news, intrigued by the odd request. It wasn’t often we had anyone call in looking for an old dog. “How sincere did he sound?”

She shrugged, running her nails across a nearby fence. “I’d say about fifty-fifty.”

“Maybe it’s his lucky day today.” I bent over and replaced the leash that had slipped from the hook, humming to myself. “What’s on the agenda today? What needs done?”

Her face contorted into a strange mockery of mine, pretending at friendliness and failing miserably. “Oh, there’s always something to do.” She flicked her hand in the direction of the poop scoop in the corner, a malicious grin spreading on her lips. “You could clean up the yard. Everyone’s been taking the dogs out on the patio, and that starts to stink if we don’t deal with it fast. And after that, maybe you could scoop out the cat boxes and wash down the meet and greet room. I think one of the dogs got a bit excited and peed everywhere.”

She had an obsession with giving me some of the shittiest jobs available. If she didn’t want to do it, I got stuck handling the task. And without fail, when she was feeling particularly powerful and in charge, she saved the nastiest jobs for me and one other teeny-bopper she didn’t like for God knew what reason. Amy was the sweetest little thing I’d ever met. She never met a stranger and loved all the animals here like they were her own. She even treated everyone with kindness and respect, even when they didn’t deserve it. All that, plus she went to church on Sundays and helped out with the younger kids in the sanctuary when they were too disruptive for service.

“Sure, Stacey, I’ll go ahead and take care of all the menial labor.” I rolled my eyes, and she sighed in that put-upon way she had that told you exactly what she thought of you and your attitude. “Anything else I can do for you today?”

Her blonde hair bounced as she shook her head and sauntered past me, making sure to shoulder-check me along the way. “Nope. Just get it done, Scarlett.”

“Aye, aye, captain,” I sassed back, grabbing the poop scoop and wishing I could get away with whacking her over the head with it.

It was gonna be a long ass day.

4

SCARLETT

“No! N-no, please, no!”

The sheets on my bed tangled around my feet, twisted me up in a Chinese finger-trap of a mess I couldn’t disentangle myself from. Panic seeped into every bone in my body, leeched out of every pore as my sweat collected on the fabric and left me feeling absolutely filthy.

Such was par for the course with my nightmares.

Not a night went by that I didn’t flash back to that horrific tragedy that set me on the path I currently traveled down. And just like every other night, I woke to a racing heart, difficulty breathing, and a splitting headache.

And the soul-crushing guilt. That, too, was impossibly heavy on my heart. But it was my own damn fault. I could have walked away, that fateful day in the past, and then I’d be a completely different person. I wouldn’t be sitting in an apartment that was never meant to be mine, dressed in clothes I’d never pick for myself, with a dog I secretly hated and a lifestyle that screamedliar, if I’d have only told the truth and gone for help.

But I chose this life. I decided to be someone I wasn’t. And I had nobody to blame for these nightmares and this hellscape of a life but myself.

I rose from the bed with a start, slowly and meticulously wiping the sleep from my eyes. I hated waking up after such a horrendous dream. I felt drained, like someone had stepped on my chest and stayed there, pinning me down, unable to breathe and devoid of the desire to live. But live I must, so, with a wince and a fair amount of mental aggravation, I slipped my feet into the too-fluffy, pink slippers at the edge of the bed and roused myself.

My morning routine on Sundays was a bit gentler on my psyche than the rest of the week, since I was expected to be at Sunday Mass early. Somehow, the ladies of the church had talked me into volunteering even more of my precious and scarce personal time to the church this coming week, and I was now in charge of the group of wayward youths from the local public school who’d been assigned to help us clean out and maintain the graveyard while our groundskeeper was in the hospital.

Because of course I was. Who else would be willing to corral a bunch of kids whose parents didn’t have time for them and force menial physical labor on their unwilling personalities? I knew better than anyone what it took to convince people to do things they didn’t want to do.

When I got to the church, the lot was packed, and I ended up having to park damn near a block and a half away. The crowd was more significant than usual for our humble small-town church, and half the cars were too fancy for our congregation. No, whatever these people were here for, they weren’t our typical crowd.

I locked the car, realized I had left my phone inside, and then did the little song and dance of getting back into my vehicle so I could retrieve it before finally locking it up again. I waved to Miss Achers across the road, heading off her porch to join the group of ladies waiting for her on the curb, and spun around, intending to head toward the church myself.

And ran right into a solid, warm chest covered in windbreaker material straight out of the nineties.

A warm blush crept up my face as I stumbled and fought to right myself. A solid hand found purchase on the small of my back to steady me as the rest of my skin followed suit. I had to be redder than my hair, and when my eyes found the source of my embarrassment, all that collected color drained from my face.

I stared up at what had to be one of the most handsome men I’d seen around here in awhile–from his auburn, tousled hair, chiseled jawline, and stunning green eyes, to the dazzling smile he shot me, and the way his body bent towards mine without being disrespectful, cradling me in his arm to keep me from falling on my ass, he was comparable to a model straight out of the winter catalog. I blinked furiously as he released me, my palm flattening behind me against the cool surface of my car door.

Did I know him from somewhere? He looked slightly familiar.

“Woah, careful there, miss,” he said, dazzling me with those pearly whites and an accent I couldn’t place. It certainly wasn’t from around here. No midwesterner I’d ever met sounded like that. “You don’t wanna land in these puddles right before church. Wooden pews are mighty uncomfortable when you’re wetter than a freshly bathed dog.”

I giggled, actually fucking giggled, and glanced down at his chest, trying to avoid some of the heat from his intense gaze as it swept over me. “Oh, no, wouldn’t want that.” His broad shoulders stretched out in a perfect arc, lining up with a tapered waist and strong arms his jacket felt compelled to mold against in the wet air. There was just enough time to inconspicuously note the way his pants clung to his thighs, and I bit my lip at the very unholy thoughts running through my head.

This man was one I wouldn’t mind running into in the club. Attractive, kind, with a smile that stopped your heart and eyes that stared into your soul. A flirty, strong man with charm who didn’t make you feel slimy when he touched you.

My gaze returned to his face in time to realize I’d been staring, zoning out, and fantasizing about this stranger for longer than was appropriate. I cleared my throat, straightened my spine, and ran a hand through my hair as I fought to regain some of my dignity when he pulled away and released me. His presence still held me in a chokehold mentally, though, even with the newfound absence of his arm around me.

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