Page 1 of Seducing Scylla
1
Morgan
Fog swirls up from the pavement with each of my steps, the morning sun warming the brisk autumn air as I make my way through the busy city streets to work. I hoist my satchel on my shoulder before squirreling my hands under my armpits inside my cardigan to stave the residual cold away. Sirens and the occasional toot of car horns wail in the distance, a cacophony of city noise that brings me comfort in the chaos. Someone yells at someone else who curses back, causing me to duck my head, a smirk teasing its way onto my face. My breath filters out before me in a cloud as I sidestep the bustling crowds of people traveling to their nine-to-five before heading to the local bars or restaurants with their friends and colleagues until late, before doing it all again tomorrow. Rinse and repeat.
That used to be me. BD. Before Divorce. My failed relationship with my ex-wife siphoned a kernel ofsomethingaway from me and I haven’t managed to find it again. I try, I really do. I plaster a smile on my face, making sure other people feel valued and seen. I pretend to be on the outside what I wish I felt on the inside. Fake it ‘til you make it, and all that. I’m not depressed, I don’t think. I don’t want to catapult myself off a bridge or anything. I’m just, you know… here. Okay, maybe I am depressed. I’ll pocket that thought for my therapist.
Dodging cars, I cross the road and skip through an ornate wrought-iron archway and into the park in the middle of the city, where the library, my work, sits smack bang in the center. A monolithic building of colonial design with its white stone façade framed by tall, looming pillars. A parking lot sits off to one side, full to the brim, and I’m thankful I don’t have to drive into the city.
I follow the pathway through the trees and flowery bushes, a chill washing over me as the canopy blocks the weak morning sun from warming the path. Birds titter as a couple passes me on their morning walk, and a shirtless man, layered in a thin sheen of sweat that glistens as the sun hits his skin, throws a ball for his dog on the grass. Theretriever, getting distracted, bounds over to me in the process, nearly knocking me flat on the path.
“Hello, my sweetie pie,” I croon, sticking out a hand for it to sniff before bending down and giving it a thorough back scratch.
“C’mere, Bulldozer! Sorry about that!” The man jogs over, calling for his dog.
I wave a ‘no problem’ with a laugh before giving Bulldozer one last scratch behind his ear. I’m still smiling to myself as I enter the library foyer, Bulldozer being the perfect pick-me-up.
“Morning, Joe!” I wave to the library security guard, an elderly man, with short greying hair, matching stubble, and crinkles around his eyes like he’s spent his life laughing.
“Hey, Morgan, how you doin’, darlin’?” He tips his navy cap off to me, ever the gentleman.
I shrug with a smile. “Oh, you know, same old, same old.”
“Same shit, different day, my Pa used to say, s’cuse my French.”
I laugh and nod. “Same shit, different day.”
Working the weekday shift at the library is my favorite. Hardly anyone comes in besides some college students and a few people sleeping rough, who just want to sit inside somewhere for a whileand aren’t going to be ordered to leave. At least, they’re not on my shift. I’m quite happy for anyone to come in. The state’s paying for the resource, so everyone should be entitled to use it. They might even find comfort in a good book while they’re here.
I walk between the aisles, pushing my returns cart, stopping now and then to shelve a book or tidy a stack. I grab a copy ofThe Odysseyto return it to its rightful resting place, scanning the call number on the spine and then those of the books on the shelf, mumbling the alphabet as I go. I huff, noticing someone has put the wrong book in the place whereThe Odysseyis meant to go. Pulling it out, I quirk an eyebrow at the beautiful alien woman on the cover. I haven’t read this one, but it looks interesting, so I add it to my returns cart to check it out later and go to popThe Odysseyin its place.
As I reach up, I spy a young woman sitting at one of the library booths through the gap in the books. She’s got the gray hood of her washed-out black denim jacket up, and shaggy purple hair hanging out the sides and over her face like a curtain. Her attempt at being inconspicuous makes her stand out all the more. I haven’t seen her around here before, but I think she’s one of the few who seek refuge inside these warm walls. A tall man with dark hair stands next toher table. His back is to me, so I can only assume he’s talking to her, but she looks like she’d rather be anywhere else, her eyes flitting around as if looking for someone, or something, to help her escape. I narrow my eyes, all too familiar with uncomfortable interactions. How many times had I been followed to work, my heart rate picking up as some man decided he wanted to talk to me and wouldn’t take no for an answer? Or the vulgar catcalls from construction workers in the city as I passed by building sites, minding my own business?
PushingThe Odysseyinto the empty space, I flatten out the skirt of my dress, a plan forming in my head. For once, I can actually do something. I plaster a big fake smile on my face and push the cart out the end of the aisle. I hum to myself, keeping the young woman in my peripheral vision as I near her table.
“Oh!” I yelp, pushing my returns cart into the back of the man’s legs, and dramatically fall to the floor, landing on my hands and knees.
“What the fuck!” he shouts, whipping around to see what hit him, dark eyes flitting between the cart and me kneeling on the timber floors.
The woman doesn’t miss a beat, taking her cue and quickly sliding out of the booth, hightailing it toward the foyer.
“Oh, I’m so sorry! I tripped. I’m so clumsy!” I say, trying my best to keep the amusement from my voice while pulling myself up off the floor and dusting off my dress.
He growls in frustration, whirling back around to where the woman was sitting, his hand running through his short dark hair when he realizes she’s gotten away. He lets out a string of curses, eyes flitting back and forth over the library, trying to catch a glimpse of where she could’ve gotten to.
“Can I help you find anything?” My voice is saccharine, and I continue to stare at him with a pleasant smile, my sea-green eyes wide and falsely apologetic.
He turns back around, and I gulp, my smile slipping just a little. His eyes are dark and dead as he stares at me, gaze raking over my body, and I suddenly feel very self-conscious of my curvy hips and bust. I’m not petite. I’m no size six, and I’m fine with that. I like my body, but I don’t like the way his gaze makes me feel like I shouldn’t. I shudder.
“No.” He grunts and dismisses me, turning around and stalking out to the foyer.
I mutter an obscenity under my breath, hoping the woman has managed to get far enough through the park that he won’t see her once he’s outside.
“That man botherin’ you?” Joe strides over.
I shake my head, brushing an unruly curl behind my ear. “Not me. That girl that was sitting here. I thought I’d offer her a distraction so she could skedaddle, but I think he’s followed her outside.”
Joe hums and pats my arm. “I’ll check out front, make sure she got away.”
