Page 63 of Quiet Rage
It’s a relief when the bell chimes over the door, and I’m alone again. Alone for real, too. Mom has been even more out of it than I am, sinking deep into the bottle in hopes of drowning the memories. She couldn’t pull it together enough to come in this morning. Neither could Dad, though he used the excuse of making sure she was all right. He told me he’d be here later to relieve me. I hope he makes it soon, because I don’t like being here alone.
Even though it’s not really cold in here, I shiver and pull my sweater closed over the long sleeve shirt underneath it. I’m so cold all the time. I can’t make myself eat. Every time I try to do anything even slightly normal, I hear Mom screaming. I hear the table legs scraping against the floor every time Kellen slammed deep. I can feel the pain—physical and otherwise. There is plenty of both.
And even though he is the reason for that pain, I still miss him. That’s the worst part. I meant it when I said I needed space. I could barely stand being in the same room with him, breathing the same air. But I miss him now. I’ve been missing him all this time. Scared of him, and missing him.
A bunch of the canned goods need to be stocked, so I grab a box and go through the motions, moving the older cans up front, stocking behind them. Using the sticker gun to add prices. The big, round mirror in the back corner gives me a view of the front door, so I can always see if somebody’s on their way in. Foot traffic isn’t bad on a day like this, and I guess I should be glad to be busy. At least it helps the time pass, but it also means having to force an expression on my face that doesn’t look quite so haunted.
I’m so tired of having to push what I’m feeling off to the side for the sake of functioning.
The bell chimes and I look up at the mirror, a stack of soup cans in one hand. The man wears a black leather jacket and knit cap, and he walks with his head lowered. Like he’s hiding something.
Right away, my heart clenches. My stomach, too, sending bile up into my throat. It’s not like there’s anything else in my stomach, anyway. The hot, bitter sensation almost makes me gag as I instinctively creep to the back of the store, away from him. The way an animal who knows it’s caught will still try to keep itself safe for as long as it can.
Because there’s something very familiar about him. The way he moves. Quietly, I place two of the cans on a shelf, but tighten my grip on the one in my hand since it’s the only thing close to a weapon I have. He’s the one who wanted to take a turn with me in the kitchen. He was here, beating Dad. I wouldn’t be surprisedif he could hear my heart pounding while I wait at the end of the aisle, holding my breath, very much considering running through the back door.
“Anybody here?” Yes, that’s him, that’s his voice. It’s haunted me for days. “Hello? Don’t tell me there’s nobody here with the door unlocked. I could take anything I want.”
I know what he’s really talking about. I hear it in his nasty snickering. He couldn’t take me, could he? Kellen wouldn’t let him.
“What do you want?” Kellen’s not here, so I have to stand up for myself. If he sees I’m terrified, he’ll use it against me. Let him see I can stand up to him. Let him see he hasn’t taken everything away.
I step to the side, where he can see me, which gives me a look at his sickening smile. “There she is,” Dante purrs, taking one step my way, then another. I can get out through the back if I need to. I am not afraid of him.
“I think I asked you what you want,” I grunt. “If you’re not here to buy something, get the hell out.”
“Listen to you.” His lips purse in a high-pitched whistle as he keeps coming closer. The hair on the back of my neck rises and every beat of my heart urges me to get the hell out of here. Forget trying to pretend I’m strong. I need to go.
“I’m not kidding. Go.” I lift the soup a little, ready to hurl at him if it gives me a little extra time to get away.
He glances at it, laughing. “What are you going to do with that? Cook me a healthy lunch?”
Then he pounces. A tight, high-pitched yelp comes out of me before my back is to the rack of paper towels and tissues along the wall. Caging me in with one arm, then the other, Dante leans in close. He reeks of liquor and cigarettes. “I’m going to get what’s coming to me. Understood?”
“There is nothing coming to you.” Except a bullet that I hope very, very much smashes its way through him. Bonus points if I can be there to watch it happen.
“That’s what you think.” When he lowers his head to sniff my neck, I have to bite my tongue to hold back a whimper of disgust. “I’m coming for you tonight. You and me, we’re going to get to know each other very well. And this time,” he adds in a whisper against my ear, “Kellen won’t be there to stop me.”
I’m still frozen in horror when he lifts his head, smiling down at me. “He’s got a new toy now. He’ll be too busy with her.”
What does that mean? Somehow, in the middle of my paralyzing fear, the comment about Kellen’s toy rises to the top. If I thought I’d get an answer, I would ask what that means.
But I think I understand. He’s moved on. There’s somebody else in his life, taking up his time. I pushed him too far away for too long.
I was right. He was never going to save me.
The bell chimes in front, and I gasp, looking over his shoulder. I can’t remember the last time I was this happy to see Mom and Dad.
“Tamson?” Dad calls out.
Dante’s empty eyes meet mine. “See you tonight,” he whispers, then ducks through the back door the way I should have. There’snothing I can do but lean against the rack, shaking, fighting for every breath. He wasn’t joking. I know he wasn’t. He is going to come to the house later to find me.
And there’s nothing I can do to stop him.
“There you are.” Mom sighs with relief when I appear, still holding the can in my sweaty hand. It looks like she at least went through the motions today, showering and putting on clean clothes. She’s as haunted as I am. “How has it been here?”
“Quiet,” I murmur, glad when a few customers walk in, a group of girls who laugh and joke and loudly talk about their plans for later tonight. Normal girls, in other words, while I remember what Kellen did to me in the kitchen…and imagine how much worse it will be when Dante finds me.
What am I supposed to do? I have to assume he meant it. He’ll come to the house tonight. If I’m not there, he’ll wait for me. I know he will. If I’m still on his mind, if he still feels like he missed out somehow, he is not going to let up.
