Page 11 of Haunted

Tilting my head to the side, I couldn’t help the grin that spread across my face. Mitzy stood next to me with her hands fisted on her hips, one foot tapping impatiently against the tile floor while she waited for my answer.

“A granola bar?”

“Squirrel food.” She rolled her eyes. “When we slow down, you get something from the kitchen.”

Their overprotectiveness took a sharp left turn onto crazy street when they found out what a piss-poor job—their words, not mine—I was doing managing my disease. They switched from caring friends into full-on mama-bear mode in the blink of an eye. The constant nagging was something I could do without, then again, it came from the heart, so how could I possibly argue with that?

“Yes, ma’am,” I agreed.

Hefting the large plastic tub I’d filled with soiled plates and cups off the last empty table, I dropped it off in the back where Joel, our dishwasher, would get to it once he arrived. After washing my hands, I rejoined the girls and began taking orders from the new customers.

The rest of the day flew by and before I knew it, I was strolling down the crowded streets toward the parking lot where I'd left my car, praying to all things holy it hadn’t been towed. It was a gamble every day, a crapshoot of epic proportions; similar to how my life had become in recent times.

Funnily enough, waitressing had not been on my radar when I moved to Huntington. I wanted to become a social worker in order to help people, like my mom, who’d been let down by the system. Unfortunately, I was young and naïve to the ways of the world; a world in which all of my hopesand dreams would be squashed by a mega-rich playboy with an overinflated ego.

Stupid, so stupid.

Rounding the final corner, I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw Old Blue—the nickname I’d given my car—right where I’d left her; in the corner of the lot. It probably would have been a better idea to park under a copse of trees to hide the obvious fact the rusted-out vehicle didn’t belong in the nicer complex. Except then, the shade would’ve blocked the sun’s rays from heating the interior and considering the needle was hovering close to empty, it saved me from spending money on gas to warm up the car each night.

The back driver’s side door let out a wretched squeak when I opened it and climbed inside. Old Blue had been Mom’s car; one of the few high-dollar purchases she’d made before she died. It seemed like a waste of money at the time, since we took the bus or light rail whenever we went out, but she’d been adamant it would come in handy. Turned out, she was right.

Huntington had a few homeless shelters I could’ve utilized rather than sleeping in my car, however the stories I’d heard about what happened in them after dark were far more horrific than going it alone out in the elements. The three times each week I hitched up my big-girl panties to use their facilities for a quick shower were the ultimate test of my bravery. Which—to say—wasn’t much since I waited until after the breakfast crowd had cleared out so it was mostly empty.

Shadows began to dance across the dashboard as nighttime settled in around me. I wasn’t afraid of the dark, per se, it was the silence that accompanied it I found most terrifying. Some people loved to get away from the hustle and bustle, to have time to themselves. For me, the absence ofsound lent too much time for my mind to shift into overdrive; conjuring up memories—both good and bad.

Curling onto my side, I willed my dreams to be filled with images of Mom and Nana. Instead, they were plagued, once again, by my worst nightmare.

It was a little past nine at night when I left the campus library after finishing up some research for a paper, which was due in two weeks for my Foundations of Social Policy class. The path I took to get back to my dorm room wasn’t as well-lit as some of the others, but it was the quickest. Besides, I’d traveled it so many times I could’ve made the trip with my eyes closed.

I was more than halfway home when the air around me shifted. The tiny hairs on the back of my neck stood on end and goosebumps broke out along my arms. I’m not sure how I knew, but someone was watching me.

My footsteps quickened, falling in sync with my racing heart as I wrapped my hands around the straps of my backpack, prepared to use it as a weapon if needed. Taking a chance, I glanced over my shoulder, fully expecting to see someone closing in, except the sidewalk directly behind me was empty.

The second my head faced forward again; my feet stuttered to a stop as a figure stepped out from behind a group of trees which lined the dimly lit path; the relief I felt moments before short-lived.

“Nice night for a walk.”

I recognized his voice immediately.

“What are you doing out here, Chase?”

Chase McArthur was tall––just over six feet––with dirty-blond hair, blue eyes, and a leanly sculpted body he got from playing on the school’s basketball team. But he was also an asshole who didn’t know when to quit. He’d asked me outon a date more than a half a dozen times over the last six months, each attempt resulting in the same answer from me. No, thank you. I was too focused on my studies to even consider a social life, let alone go out with someone who stalked around campus like he was God’s gift to women with a different girl on his arm every week.

“Enjoying the scenery.” He nodded in my direction and smiled wide, displaying his overly white teeth.

It was getting late and I was too exhausted to play his games, but I also wasn’t stupid. Reaching into my back pocket, I pulled out my phone and pretended to send a text when what I was actually doing was starting a video recording. Chase had never given me stranger-danger vibes before, however something about the way he was looking at me sent chills through my body. Putting the cell back, I straightened my shoulders and started forward, focusing my attention on the dorm building in the distance. With each step, those vibes turned into a gnawing sense of dread deep in my gut, which only worsened once I made it past him. My instincts were screaming at me to run, but before I could take flight, an arm wrapped around my torso, pulling me into a hard body while his hand slapped over my mouth.

Remembering what I could from every scary movie I’d watched, I fought like hell; scratching, kicking, anything I could think of to get loose. Unfortunately, he was bigger and stronger. He drug me off the path and slammed me up against a tree, the force momentarily knocking the air from my lungs.

“Do. Not. Scream.” Spittle flew from his lips with every punctuated word as he released the hold he had on my mouth.

Sucking in a deep breath, I prepared to ignore his asinine demand, only to find myself flung to the ground withChase straddling my hips in a matter of seconds. He pinned both my arms above my head with one of his meaty palms, while the other grabbed my right breast in a bruising grip.

“No!” I yelled, struggling for all I was worth.

“You’ll take my cock and you’ll love it.” His hand left my breast to wrap around my throat. Leaning in close, I could smell the beer wafting on his breath when he slurred, “You have the same eyes, same face, same cock-teasing little body. I wonder if you’ll look the same on video begging for your life while I fuck your ass and choke you like the nasty little whore you are?”

There was no way I could allow him to violate me. I wouldn’t survive it. When he started to sit back, I made my move. Rearing up, I smashed my forehead into his face as hard as I could. It hurt like a son of a bitch, however the sickening crack of his nose breaking gave me a little satisfaction.

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