Page 173 of Evil Hearts

Haunting Affection

by Cheyenne Browning

Chapter 1

Itoss the towelon the counter in frustration. This job sucks, but it pays decently. Using the towel, I wipe the counter down, removing the spilled drink from its surface. Some jackass decided he didn’t want his drink any longer and wanted me to make a new one… for free.

What entitlement these folks have. I throw the soaked towel into a basket beneath the counter and paste a smile on my face as I turn to the next customer in line. I would give almost anything to be anywhere else but here.

“Hello, sir. What may I get for you today?”

The fake customer accent leaves my lips and makes my tongue sour. I hate the higher-pitched cheer that automatically comes from within me. The customer searches the menu over my head and without bothering to look at me, they order what they want.

I accept their money and force myself to turn away and make it. The day seems to go by slower as the customers come and go. Hours pass and dozens of orders leave from behind this counter before I can lock the doors and start the clean-up process.

Every day for the last two months has been the same. Come into work at the shop, take orders and make them, and clean up before heading home. It’s a boring job and something I dread getting up for every single day of my life.

It’s not like I have much choice in the matter. I don’t have my Witch’s License yet and so I can’t sell my potions I’ve createdlegally. If the council knew what I was doing, I would be burned at the stake for going against their orders.

Barbaric? Yes. They justify it by saying they are just upholding traditions. I call bullshit and they just want to make sure they are the ones that remain in control. It’s like those nightmare stories that parents tell their children so they don’t get out of bed at night.

This boogeyman is very real and deadly.

Mindlessly, I finish cleaning up the shop and rush to the door to leave. Locking up behind me as I exit. I pull my coat tighter against my body. The wind blows toward me, causing my face to burn with the chill of the air. My chest tightens and I grip my coat closer. My skin crawls with a sickening dread.

Something is wrong.

Just as the feeling almost drowns me, my phone rings from my pocket. I shove my hand inside the pocket and my hand shakes as I lift it out. The screen flashes with a number I don’t recognize. Who would be calling me?

I slide my finger across the screen and my breath catches and a squeaked hello falls from my lips.

“Lila Evans?” A woman’s voice comes over the speaker.

“Yes.” I reply shakily. Whatever this call is about, it’s bad. Like, really bad.

“I have some unfortunate news for you, dear. Your aunt Jenny passed away from a heart attack just now. There was nothing we could do for her. I’m sorry for your loss.”

I drop to the pavement, my bare knees hitting the rough ground. The skin rips open and I don’t feel a single thing. My hand lowers slowly. Everything feels like it is standing still. My heart splits open and shards splinter away from it as the news takes all the will I have left.

The woman on the phone calls out to me several times before eventually hanging up. My mind no longer tracks the time oranything else as I process the loss of an amazing woman. I spent my days at that woman’s house. She was like my second mother.

She taught me everything about being the witch I’m meant to be. The potions I now create are all because of her. Because she didn’t give up on me when everyone else did. I haven’t seen her much this year with my hectic work schedule and my heart aches knowing it’s my fault that I wasn’t with her. That I didn’t get to see her before I lost her.

Tears soak my skin as they trace patterns along my cheeks and fall to the pavement below. My chest feels like an elephant is sitting on it and my ribs will crack and my heart will explode. The pain is too much. I surely will meet the same fate as my dear aunt.

The time passes and the pain doesn’t ease, but I don’t leave this world behind to join my aunt in the afterlife. Instead, it just fucking hurts. When my tears stain the ground and my eyes no longer leak, I push myself up from the ground.

Wincing as my knees burn from the cuts. The skin’s raw and covered in dried blood. Ignoring the pain, I stumble toward my apartment building. It’s only a few blocks down from the shop, but it seems like miles pass me by as each step takes more effort than it is worth. Curling up against the pavement and freezing to death seems like a good option right now.

One step…then another…and another.

My shoes feel like they’re filled with lead. My body is nothing but an aching mess as I reach the outside of the building. Autopilot has taken over my body as I pull my keys out of my pocket and slide one into the hole of the door. Pushing it open with a shaky hand, I enter the building and the sudden warmth burns as it touches my frozen skin. The cuts on my knees ache and throb.

I take the stairs straight ahead instead of heading for the elevator down the hall. Two flights later and I enter the hallwaywhere my apartment is. My fingers shake as I find my key and open the door. I let it fall closed behind me and I lean against it. Sinking to the floor with a sob.

My cat, Linx, finds me immediately and curls around my legs in the small space left behind. Everything seems so wrong. So normal. I feel nothing but the pain from the loss and want to destroy everything around me that doesn’t feel that same pain. Rationally, there is nothing I can do about the death of my aunt, but irrationally, I want to take everything and burn it all down.

Linx comforts me with a nudge of his head against my outer thigh. I lift one hand to rub his head as the tears pour all over again. Nothing will ever be the same without her. The summers spent at her house. The lessons she gave me. The ability to see past my flaws and still survive in this wretched world around us.

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