Page 13 of Protecting Tiffani

“What’s wrong with this fucking dryer? I put my money in, but it’s not drying my clothes?” a man shouts from across the room.

“The soda machine gave me the wrong drink. I pushed Mt. Dew, and it gave me a Pepsi?” a boy whines.

“Excuse me, do you have some dryer sheets I can have?” the lady standing to my right asks.

“We’re sorry to interrupt your regular broadcasting, but there has been a new development on the storm we have been tracking for the last couple of hours,” the local weatherman says through the tv.

All the noise makes my head pound even more, and a sharp pain shoots through it. Taking a deep breath, I slide out of the chair and instantly have to grab the counter to keep from falling over. The man at the dryer kicks it and causes another sharp pain to pulse behind my closed eyes. Slowly I open my eyes and try to blink the black dots away. “Ma’am, I don’t have any sheets you can have, but we do have some that you can purchase.” I slide her the printed prices of all the items we sell. “Take a look, and I will be right back.” I exit the office, making sure to shut the door behind me.

My stomach growls so loud I’m sure everyone here can hear it. I wrap my arms around my middle and squeeze, trying to quiet the noise, but continue walking. The little boy who got the wrong soda is now screaming at his mother. “If you give me one minute, I can open the machine and get him the correct one. As long as he hasn’t opened the Pepsi,” I say to the lady.

“Thank you. He hasn’t, and he isn’t going to, are you, John?” She snatches the can out of his hand to ensure that he doesn’t.

“What has taken you so long? This fucking dryer isn’t working correctly. What kind of laundry mat doesn’t have working dryers,” the furious man shouts directly into my face when I approach him.

“I apologize for the inconvenience, Sir. It’s hectic for a Sunday, and I’m only one person. Now if you would please step aside so I can see what is going on.” I keep my voice calm even though all I want to do is tell him to take his pot belly ass somewhere else. Anywhere else but here.

“I don’t want to hear your fucking excuse. What is a little girl like you going to do? Fix it?” He laughs, causing spit to fly out of his mouth and land on my face. My already-turning stomach flips, and I’m scared that I’m about to be sick all over this man’s shoes. I swallow and wipe the disgusting spit off my cheek. The world once again spins around me while black spots dot my vision. “No, I’ll tell you what you are going to do. You’re going to walk your ass back into the office and refund my money. Then pay for my clothes to get dried like they should have been after the first time I put money into this damn machine.” He kicks the bottom of the dryer again, and the pain in my head makes me groan.

“Sir, I’m afraid I cannot do that. It’s against business policy. However, I’m sure I can fix the problem with the dryer. I fix them on a regular basis. I promise you,” I say. My voice is low because the room is still spinning, and the pain in my stomach has grown to the point I’m almost doubled over. I don’t have the money to give any of the customers this time. I have to fix the dryer and hope it dries his clothes properly.

“Mommy, I want my soda now!” John screams.

“Hey, you don’t need to talk to her like that. She’s offering to fix the dryer. Let her do her job.” John’s mom tries to stick up for me.

“Why don’t you mind your own business and try to control your fucking spawn before trying to tell me what to do,” he yells her way.

The bell over the door jingles as someone else comes into this circus.

“Ma’am, what about my dryer sheets?” the lady waiting on me asks, but her voice sounds like I’m underwater.

“No, I want my money back, you bitch, and either you give it to me, or I will go get it myself.” The man steps toward me. As a reflex, I step back, but my legs are weak, and I stumble. The man standing before me grabs my arm, which keeps me from hitting the ground. Now he’s so close I smell his rancid breath and a gag forces its way up my throat. Another pain shoots through me, making me groan out louder than before. His meaty hand squeezes my arm and I know I’ll have a bruise there in the morning. “Where were you going, you little bitch? I told you to get me my money-”

Someone pulls his hand from my arm, but I can’t see through the black dots to make out who it is. Out of the grasp of the asshole, my vision goes completely black, and my body slams into the ground below me. “Tiffani, can you hear me?” a voice asks me from the blackness surrounding me. The voice sounds so familiar, but I can’t fight through the darkness to get to it.

A warm sensation shoots through my body, and behind my closed eyes, bright lights dance around. They make my pounding head hurt worse, but they are so pretty. The warm feeling wraps itself around me as the voice speaks again. “Come on, beautiful. Open those gorgeous, blue eyes for me.” My body yearns to listen to the beautiful husky voice.

“Do I need to call an ambulance?” another voice comes through.

“No. Come on. Cupcake, open your eyes, goddamn it.” This time the voice demands.

I slowly blink my eyes open and shut them because the overhead light is so fucking bright. I see the person speaking to me as my vision becomes clearer. Shame and embarrassment rush through me, causing my already warm face to grow hotter with a blush. Piercing green eyes stare back at me. They are laced with worry and concern. The warm sensation I felt was the big hands on either side of my face.

“There are those stunning blues,” fucking Levi Hill says while standing over me. Fucking take me now, god. Please let this be a dream induced by hunger because I can’t have him here in my space right now. I blink a couple more times, but his face never fades away like the times I see it in my dreams.

Chapter nine

Levi

“Levi.Levi.LEVI,”mymom’s frantic voice cuts easily through my sleep. My heart starts racing as I jump out of bed. Worry crashes into me as I lose my footing and slip on the rug sitting in the middle of the room. I catch myself with my hands and a pain shoots through my palms, but I push myself up and race through the hallway.

“Mom?” I scream, trying to figure out where she is.

“In here.” Her voice comes through the kitchen, still frantic.

I push the dining chairs out of my way and rush into the galley kitchen. Once I’m around the corner, the worry racking my body leaves and is replaced with humor. My mom stands at the end of the kitchen, looking like a cat caught in a rainstorm. She’s soaked from her head all the way to her feet. She is fighting with water spraying from the back of the washer. Even though it’s not appropriate, a laugh bellows from me. I laugh so hard that the muscles in my stomach ache.

“Don’t you stand there laughing at me, Levi Dane. Help me!” Her voice holds no threat, and I hear a little chuckle slip through her threat.

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