Page 33 of Bake the Town Red

That’s a lot of work, but it’s worth it.

When I’m done, I carry the bowls full of skin to the back door. Instead of unlocking it, I stand still. Close my eyes. Tune in to Tyler, searching with my soul for any sign of him.

Some days in October, I swear I feel him here. A low hum beneath my skin. A continuous buzz that alerts me of his presence. Of my stalker.

Today, I come up empty.

He’ll be back.

I whistle for the poor, hungry dogs.

This year, he’ll be mine. This year, he’ll see reason.

He has to. Or I’ll force him myself.

CHAPTER SIX

Dahlia

Thirty minutes to closing time on the second day of October.

Timothy, my second target, should be here in thirty-five minutes. After the numerous times he tried and failed at shoving bill after bill into my cleavage, I had to add him to my list.

I might or might have promised him a blow job to lure him here. A lie, obviously.

He’s a dead man.

Waiting to kill him is the only thing keeping me calm while I serve the last of my customers.

The rest, a little less.

Tyler.

Another five-dollar bill is in my hands. Two cupcakes in a neat box given in exchange.

And my mind is with Tyler.

I underestimated my love for and obsession with him. Tormenting and killing Gunner helped me forget Ty for a few hours and that was that. As soon as I stepped inside my apartment, Ty was all I could think of.

His attempts at pushing me away. They hurt. A sweet kind of hurt. One that keeps you up at night. That makes you toss and turn in bed.

I can’t let go of him. He needs my patience, and I can’t give it to him anymore.

“Hi, Miss Valentine.” Cora and Atlas wave at me.

The identical twins are shorter than the counter, but I see them. Their blonde, soft hair. Their little enthusiastic, waving hands.

Gotta love kids and how loud they are. How happy they are. This pair in particular. Always smiling, laughing. Never once have they pressed their hands on my glass display. They don’t leave smudges. Practically angels.

Their energies lift mine.

“Hi, yourselves.” I give them my wide, genuine smile. “What can I get you?”

The twins’ wide brown eyes dart from me to the cupcakes and they launch into an intense debate on which one to choose.

“Come on, kids.” Their dad shoots me an apologetic look. His lips curve downward as he watches over them. “You’re holding up the line. Choose anything you’d like. I promise we’ll be back tomorrow for more.”

I don’t remember his name. He’s a good man, that I remember. Kind and polite. Never been on my radar.

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