Page 10 of Heathen

"When did you get your psychology degree?" I mutter.

"I double majored in college," he says without missing a beat.

"Wait. Seriously?"

He simply shrugs. "I'll take a look into it when the equipment is up and running, but I think you'll find that there's nothing amiss other than your inflated and injured ego."

He claps me on the back before leaving the room, and I stand there for a long moment, wondering if maybe he was right.

I don't get shot down very often, but I don't think I was flirting with her. I just didn't want her to be mad at me forknocking over that damned display. It wasn't my fault, but it also didn't seem fitting to blame an out-of-control kid either.

I finish putting the rest of the dry and boxed food in the pantry before heading to my room. I just don't have the energy to go out and explore Vegas tonight. First day in town and I'm already too annoyed to have a little fun.

Chapter 6

Kaylee

"You look tired, sweetheart. Are you not getting enough sleep?"

I can't help the slow blink of my eyes as I look at the woman. What is it about the elderly that makes them think they can say whatever comes to mind, no matter the situation?

Maybe it's one of the benefits of growing old, but I just can't see telling a stranger they look bad or asking them about their life.

"We've been busy today," I lie.

My exhaustion has more to do with the lack of activity today and my double shift yesterday than anything else. I wouldn't be tired if I had something to focus on, but it's either feast or famine around here. Yesterday was chaos, and I should've gone to bed and right to sleep easily, but my mind raced with that warehouse district and those women disappearing behind that heavy door.

"Would you like to add some Halloween candy today?"

"No thank you, dear. I have diabetes and dentures. You're lucky you're so young."

I give her a faint smile, hating that it's the best I can manage.

I give her the total and wait for her to write out a check, another thing that makes this grocery store different from most others. As much as Mr. Gillis complains about bounced checks and fraudulent copies, he hasn't stopped allowing people to use them, afraid he'll alienate customers who aren't part of the digital age.

"We take debit cards as well," I say, noticing the card in her wallet.

She waves her hand as if dismissing the idea completely before continuing to write the information on the check.

I compare the name and address on the check with the driver's license she presents and complete the transaction.

"Have a great rest of your day and thank you for shopping at Main Street Grocery."

She worries about getting her wallet back into her huge purse before pushing her cart away.

"Have a good day, dear. Do try to get some sleep. You'll never find a man if you get wrinkles."

I'm left staring after her, mouth slightly open, dumbfounded at her ease of saying such things.

"She's a feisty one," Rachel says as she approaches.

"She's hateful," I mutter before turning to my coworker. "How is Ginny?"

"Strep," Rachel says with a frown. "And a double ear infection."

I take a step back. I'm not exactly a germaphobe, but I don't want to get sick.

Rachel notices, laughing and rolling her eyes. "Kids are nothing but a bag of germs."

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