Page 4 of The Depraved Prince
In bold red letters:
ANIMAL ATTACK LEAVES 1 FARMER DEAD AND 2 IN CRITICAL CONDITION
“Another animal attack? Hayes, please walk us to our cars. This is getting a little scary. Those attacks are getting closer and closer to town,” Leah says as she pleads with a terrified Hayes. His hazel eyes skim over the news reporter, observing the TV like it’s going to come alive and bite him. Leah turns around with her back to the TV and continues to wipe down tables that have not been cleaned yet. She throws the towel over her shoulder, and her other hand holds the cleaning spray. Her blonde, wavy hair is pulled back in a ponytail, though strands have escaped her gelled back style, hovering over her brown freckles.
“Sshh! Let me listen." Hayes ignores her request and hushes her instead.
I roll my eyes at both of them. Hayes and Leah are the two co-workers who constantly bicker and gossip at work. Still, I wouldn’t trade these two goofballs for the world.
“I mean, what kind of animal could this be? We live in Texas, for crying out loud. There are no bears. There are no alligators nearby,” Leah continues. It's sort of true. We live in the southern region of Texas, south of San Antonio, away from all busy city life in a town called Santana.
“Leah, I’m trying to listen. Maybe if you let me listen to the news reporter, I can answer those questions!” Hayes hisses, hushing Leah once again. He holds the mop close to his chest for balance. His ponytail whips to his back as he shakes his head.
I’ve had enough of this. I’m tired, and I want to sleep. My threshold for negativity has met the maximum limits tonight. I stomp over to the television, get on my tiptoes, and turn it off.
“Millie. I was watching that,” Hayes complains. I quickly grab the remote from his hand before he can turn the television back on.
“I know, but we’re still on the clock.” I turn to a worried Leah. “That attack happened far away from here, by the way, Leah. So, stop worrying, and let's finish cleaning so we can go home.” I put my professionalism mask back on. I hate when I have to do that.
“Actually, Millie. That happened just a couple miles from here.” Hayes corrects me. An uncomfortable, eerie pause lingers between all three of us as “Sleepwalk” by Santo & Johnny continues to play softly.
Our supervisor, Cole, pops his head out of the kitchen and swings his backpack over his shoulder. “Millie is right, you guys. Please focus on closing and not the TV. I have to leave right now, so I’m leaving her in charge.” He points to me with a tired smile.
I lift an eyebrow, return the smile, and lean on my hip. Cole leaves through the back of the shop and locks it with his keys.
They both stare at the now turned-off television, digesting the news. I place the remote near the television and go back to cleaning. I don't understand why I’m feeling more tired thanusual. It’s only eight at night, yet it feels like one or three in the morning.
Leah sticks her tongue out at Hayes, and he returns the friendly gesture. Finally, after their little quarrel, they’re over it.
Suddenly, our front door to the coffee shop opens, making the bells attached to it chime. I quirk a brow, immediately disappointed that I hadn’t locked it yet. I felt like I didn’t have to with the practically empty parking lot andWe’re Closedneon sign on the front window.
A tall blonde man with the brightest blue eyes emerges. He’s dressed in a white shirt, black jeans and boots. He looks to be around his mid-30s. He comes walking in like he owns the place, confident yetscary.He turns straight to me, looking deeply into my eyes, and smirks. I tighten my grip on my broom.
“Sir, we’re closed. You can come back tomorrow for coffee when we open. We open around eight a.m.,” Hayes shouts politely over the register. The blonde man doesn’t break. He continues to stare at me. It’s cold and unreadable, making every second unbearably uncomfortable.
I don’t like this.
I stiffen, and finally, he moves with a smirk.
What a creep.
I look away from the man and return to sweeping the floor in hopes that he’ll understand that I don’t welcome this type of attention. He needs to stop looking at me like that.
“I don’t drink coffee,” the man replies with a deep voice.
I peek with my peripheral vision to see him turn to Hayes in annoyance.
“I’m sorry, we don't really sell much else,” Leah says as she walks over to the store’s front door. She opens it and holds it open for the man, hoping he’ll notice and leave. He turns to Leah and then to me. He flattens his lips.
There’s a moment of intense silence before he speaks again.
“You know, you guys should really stop closing after sundown. I hear there has been a lot of…” he pauses, and a sinister smile replaces his once-thinned lips. “Animal attacks at night. You guys shouldn’t be out…it’s dangerous,” he tells us cruelly. His ice-cold voice is laced with mystery.
We all stand in silence, watching him, perplexed by his cold demeanor.
Then, the man walks out the door without another word, and Leah quickly jumps at the opportunity to shut the door behind him. She reaches into her pocket for her set of keys and locks it. We all walk towards the window, plastering our faces against the glass to watch him. Instead of getting into a car, his tall figure keeps walking into the night until we can’t see him anymore. Our coffee shop is located in a newly built area, so there aren’t any other nearby stores.
That was weird.
