Page 54 of Haven Bound
Quinn, Hailey, and I are getting the display items from the dessert table loaded into the catering van when Quinn becomes unsteady on her feet. She stretches a hand out to catch herself on the side of the van, and I watch as her head dips toward her chest. We rush to her side, Hailey placing a gentle hand between her shoulders. “Whoa, what happened? Are you alright?” Hailey asks.
Quinn shakes her head and braces her other hand against the side of the van. Hailey takes a small step back from Quinn, keeping a hand on her shoulder as she visibly checks her over. “Come on, let’s sit down for a minute.” Hailey’s voice is gentle as she helps Quinn turn around, both of them lowering to the ground with their backs propped against the van.
“What happened?” a deep voice barks. The three of us look up to see Zack running in our direction. Hailey and I watch as he drops to his knees in front of Quinn. One of his hands rests on her leg, while the other moves to cup the side of her face, tilting her head back to try and make her eyes meet his. She mumbles something as I watch her eyes try to grasp on to his face, fueling the worry coursing through me.
“We were just loading up the van when she stumbled like she was light-headed. She’s been fine all day. She hasn’t said anything about not feeling well,” I tell him.
Zack nods his head but doesn’t tear his eyes away from Quinn. “When was the last time you ate?” His voice is stern, laced with a note of concern and something else I can’t quite place, and though I know his tone isn’t directed at me, it still causes goosebumps to pepper my skin.
As hard as I’ve worked to overcome and process a lot of my trauma, some things will likely always remain a part of me. Like how my body tenses and fear crashes through me any time a man takes a strong tone with me. In this instance, I know that Zack’s words are not directed at me. He’s clearly worried about Quinn. We all are. But that doesn’t stop my emotional reflex.
Quinn shrugs her shoulders in response to his question, her eyes still unfocused and her skin tone looking pale. His eyes narrow at her dismissal, his voice practically vibrating as he growls, “Your blood sugar is too low.”
“I’ll go grab her something,” I chime, walking back toward the house as quickly as I can. We just finished packing away any leftover desserts before we’d started to load up the display items into the van. I snag a couple of cookies and wrap them in a napkin, taking them back outside. Austin and Ethan joined the group in the few minutes that I was gone, everyone now crowding around Quinn, concern etched on everyone’s faces.
I hand the napkin of cookies to Zack who proceeds to break off a piece of one and hold it up to Quinn’s mouth. “Open up,” he soothes. She obliges, and he slips the piece of cookie into her mouth, waiting for her to chew and swallow it, then repeating the process.
“I’ve got her. She needs some space,” Zack says, looking over his shoulder at all of us. “I’ll make sure she gets home safe.” I desperately want to ask if something is going on between them with the way he was so quick to rush to her side, but I know that now isn’t the time.
I kneel beside Quinn and place a hand on her shoulder to get her attention. “Text me when you get home and let me know if you needanything, okay?” She nods her head in response, and we all say our goodbyes to her and Zack. I feel terrible leaving Quinn, but if the way Zack is looking at her is any indication, I know that he won’t let anything happen to her.
43
Chelsea
It feels so strangeto be at Buttersweet without Quinn, but after she texted last night to let me know that she was home safe, I told her to take the day off to rest and recuperate. Very rarely do I work by myself, and I’ve found myself trying to fill the void by staying busier than normal.
You know in those horror suspense movies when the main character is just going on about their day, but you, as the person watching the events unfold, know that something bad is coming? That’s the way today feels. Like there’s an eerie sort of calm settling over me. It’s been a few weeks since I last heard from Jason, and as much as I’d like to believe that he’s moved on and forgotten all about me, I have a sinking feeling that’s just wishful thinking.
I haven’t talked to my mom since the night on the beach when she called to tell me about Dan’s death and then proceeded to argue with me. She was so insistent that I attend his funeral and pay my respects, but I will never hold an ounce of respect for that man. Not even in death.
Being at Buttersweet by myself, with no large orders on the schedule and only one delivery to handle today, I actually have time to bake just for fun. Sometimes, I forget how much of a stress reliever it can be to just bake for myself and try out new recipes that I think my customer base will love. Stress relief is how I got into baking in the first place, butthere are times when the business aspect of running a bakery becomes the source of my stress. The dessert table order for Austin’s family was an easy one to take on. I knew his family’s dessert preferences and that when Lara said she wanted to keep it casual, she meant it.
Some customers will place large orders for casual events, say they don’t want anything fancy, and then complain when the cake design is too simple or the flavors aren’t elaborate enough. I look forward to the day when I can hire more help and take a step back from some of the smaller tasks like recipe prepping. I’ve had a hard time in the past relinquishing control, and I don’t know if I would actually be able to do it. Quinn has been a tremendous help. I know she’s capable of taking on more responsibility, but it also seems like she has a lot going on and might not have the time to take on a bigger role right now.
I’ll admit that I’ve dreamed about opening a second Buttersweet Bakery location, even if it’s a smaller shop in Sutton Ridge or Rivercrest. However, I know that I wouldn’t be able to manage multiple locations by myself and would need to hire someone that I can trust to manage a new location. Hailey’s mentioned bringing the Buttersweet name into the Elysian a few times, but I’ve always been hesitant to make such a big move.
The smell of freshly baked cookies wafts through the air as I pull a tray of coconut toffee cookies from the oven and set it on the counter. They need a few minutes to cool on the tray before I can remove them and load them into the display case. Given that it’s Sunday, I still have at least an hour before the first little rush of customers. Officer Finch will likely be in within the next hour to pick up a box of assorted cookies to take over to the police station, as he does every Sunday.
The bell chimes over the entry door, signaling that someone is walking into the bakery, and I quickly pull off my oven mitts. “Good morning!” I call, stepping from the commercial kitchen space into the lobby area to greet the customer.
“What can I—” The words catch in my throat at the sight of Jason standing there with his hands braced against the counter, his dark eyes locked on mine. His face is void of all emotion as he watches me, scraggly blond strands of hair hanging down over his pierced eyebrow. A cruel grin spreads across his face, the dark circles under his eyes making him appear like he hasn’t slept in days.
“What do you want?” My voice wavers as I lean against the back counter to steady myself, needing to keep my distance from him. His dark eyes examine me with a cruel glint as they trail up and down my body, his jaw clenching as the corner of his lips twitch.
“Why do you assume I want something? Maybe I’m just here to see my girl.” He steps back from the counter, his arms crossing over his chest. Looking at him now, I don’t know why I was ever drawn to him. He’s nothing like the person I thought he was. It was all just a mask that he wore to get me right where he wanted.
“I’m not your fucking girl.”
“C’mon now, sweetheart. You know you’ll always be my girl.” His words are laced with venom as he drops his arms from his chest and reaches into his back pocket. He pulls out a twenty-dollar bill and throws it down on the counter, rattling off a list of items that he wants.
“I don’t want your money, Jason. You need to leave.”
His dark eyes rake over my body, sending a shiver of disgust down my spine. He leans forward and braces his hands on the counter again, andbefore I can say anything, he’s leaping over it. A gasp rips from my chest, and I take a step back, afraid he’s going to come towards me.
He doesn’t. Instead, he opens the back of the display case and grabs three cookies, raising one of them to his lips and taking a bite. His eyes remain locked on mine the entire time, and nausea swirls in my stomach. He smirks and walks back around the display case, heading for the exit.
I exhale a sigh of relief when he presses his back to the door, pushing it open as he mutters, “See you later, sweetheart.”
