Page 74 of Unspoken Lies
“Um,” her cheeks get rosy as if we caught her doing something wrong. “I had a snack when my alarm went off because I wasn’t hungry at the time.”
“Then why don’t you grab a very late dinner with us?” I suggest, pointing out the restaurant.
She glares at the establishment for a moment, but I’m unsure why.
“Is there something wrong with it?” Jared asks, confused.
“I don’t think I’ve eaten in a restaurant in years,” she admits.
Rachelle has been so fucking sheltered because of our actions.
“Would it stress you out?” I ask.
“Once I’m outside, I tend to be alright,” she says. “It’s psyching myself up to leave that’s the issue.”
“I’ve never been here before, but diner food tends to be all the same,” Theo says, moving toward it.
Rachelle looks caught between wanting to go and not, and I place my hand on her back to help.
“Let us buy you a meal,” I say, applying a little pressure. I know that she could simply use her stun gun on me. It is alreadyin her hand, and notice now that she was walking with it the entire time. Smart girl.
“Fine,” she agrees, her feet beginning to move. “It’s not like I don’t have money.”
“Did Brea tip you out for the tarot reading?” Jared asks, brow raised.
“Yeah, she did. There were four today. I didn’t realize they’d be so popular when she suggested it,” she says.
“It makes sense, and it’s a sound business decision,” I add. “Brea really is the reason the shop is thriving.”
“How are the rest of your, ah, businesses?” she asks as Theo holds open the door.
What she doesn’t realize is that Theo isn’t one to hold open doors or do anything chivalrous. She’s wearing a black jumpsuit today with a lace shirt underneath it, her black lipstick completing the aesthetic she’s going for.
Her hair curls around her, and she looks painfully beautiful. A dead girl come back to life.
There aren’t many people as we go inside, and we choose a corner booth where we place Rachelle in the middle. Her back is to a wall, and after her eyes gaze at the exits and the fact that no one can creep up on her, she relaxes a little.
Handing her a menu from where there’s a pile at the table, I watch as a waitress nods at us before picking up plates for another set of customers.
“What do you enjoy about tarot reading?” I ask her suddenly. It’s something that I’ve been wondering about.
“A lot of people think it’s about fortune telling, but I don’t see it like that,” she explains. “I like that it gives insight to people’s situations, and that there’s no such thing as a bad card. It’s more about direction and self-reflection. I also like the fact that it helps give people peace about what they’re going through.”
It makes a lot of sense that she turned to reading tarot when her life was so mixed up.
“I watched a couple of your saved videos,” Theo confesses. “Did you use a voice changer?”
“Of course you found my social media profile,” she sighs, tapping something on the menu as if she’s decided. “I did, because I was worried about someone finding me.”
“I wouldn’t have if I didn’t have information that allowed me to,” Theo says in defense. “It’s connected to your phone number.”
“Of all the damn mystic shops in all the world,” she whispers.
“You walked into ours,” I finish, grinning.
Her lips twitch as she hides what I’m convinced is a smile, and I glance at the menu, deciding on a burger. It’s difficult to fuck up a burger, right?
“What can I get for you?” the waitress asks. She has curly blonde hair, is in her forties, but still has a smile on her face despite the hour.
