Page 7 of My Boyfriends Are All Monsters
A quick look inside proved it was as empty as the others. Rows of delectable chocolate treats were left wholly unguarded in more of that impossibly safe small-town charm. I’d never felt the call to shoplift so strongly in my life, but I resisted and let the door close behind me as I exited. “How does this ghost town have enough people to support two bakeries and a candy store? I walked all over the damn town and haven’t seen a single grocery store or even a Dollar General. Where are they getting groceries? And where is the dentist’s office? I know he’s making bank.”
Hobbling farther into the street, I rested my walking stick against my chest, cupped my hands to the sides of my mouth, and screamed, “Hello!”
Still no answer.
Pretty white flowers were growing along the wall of the candy shop, and lacking anything else to do, I wandered my way over to them for a closer look. The fattest little bumblebee was putting in work on flowers far too small for him to sit comfortably on. The adorable struggle made me giggle, and I snapped a picture with my phone. The bee finished his work and flew off. I reached out to pluck the flower as a souvenir.
“I wouldn’t do that!” called a man’s voice.
I turned around to find the source, only to find it was coming from the woods. “Is anybody there?” I asked.
“Over here!” the voice called. A tall, pale man dressed in fishing gear stepped from the trees and waved at me. “So you’re the petitioner rousing old thorns?”
“I’m the what now? Look, I was on a hike but I got caught up in a rockfall. I was looking for a place to stay at the bed-and-breakfast, but I couldn’t find a soul there.”
The man laughed, his shaggy brown hair falling over his eyes. “Then I suggest you count your lucky stars and make a run for it. That bastard won’t be gone long.”
“Um, I’m sorry?”
He shook his head. “These mountains are home to more than deer. Didn’t anyone ever tell you to be careful what you wish for? A gullible thing like you is bound to be devoured in no time.”
“There’s cannibals out here?”
He walked closer, then seemed to stumble just before he reached the sidewalk. Righting himself, he chuckled and beckoned me closer. “Don’t worry, you’re going to be fine. There’s still enough daylight left to get you out of here before nightfall. Take my hand, I’ll guide you.”
A sense of unease settled in the air around me. I brought my hand to my chest, unsure if I should take his. “You know,I think I’ll wait at the inn and find my own way down in the morning.”
Mirth bled from his features, and the once-jovial, friendly eyes turned gaunt and hateful. “Don’t be daft. Whatever it is you wished for, that rotted thing won’t grant it without a price. Now, unless you’re dying to know how deep his thorns cut.” He offered his hand again.
“Wish? I don’t know what you’re—”
“Lucy,” Dr. Crane roared.
I whirled around, nearly jumping out of my skin. The doctor walked toward me in long, powerful strides. He grabbed me by my upper arm and pulled me closer to him. “What are you doing wandering around like this? You should be staying off that ankle. I told you to rest at the inn.”
Incensed by his manhandling, I pushed away from him. “There’s nobody at the damn inn! This weirdo is the first person I’ve seen in ...” I turned to the fisherman, only to find no one there. I looked around the tree line, but there was no sign of him. “What the ...”
Dr. Crane let out an exasperated sigh. Then he picked me up and cradled me against his chest.
“Whoa. What the fuck?” Did every man in this town have a secret mission to sweep me off my feet?
He grimaced at my outburst but merely adjusted me against him and began walking back toward the inn. Pushing the door open with his foot, he turned sideways so I didn’t bang my head, and we entered. “I just stopped by to drop off a pair of crutches. Caroline probably took a nap in the back. Woman’s older than dirt—it’s to be expected.”
As if summoned, a frail old woman shuffled into the room, followed closely behind by the most geriatric-looking golden retriever I’ve ever seen. “Who are you calling older than dirt?” She settled behind the counter and leveled a glareat the doctor, then puffed out a breath and said, “Oh, who am I fooling? It’s me. I’m old, my back hurts, and I should be drinking whiskey down at the bar with Evangeline, but here I am!” She spread her arms wide, then tapped the counter with her fist. “Still running the same—albeit lovely—inn I’ve been running since I was your age, and do you know why?”
His brows drew together in an agonized expression. “Caroline, please—”
“Because all you youngins wanna move to the big city! Can’t make enough to buy so much as a one-room rat-infested shed, and the air’s more polluted than a chain-smoker’s Cadillac, but hey, at least you get pizza delivery!”
“Carol, I have patients—”
“And I’ve got hypertension! And the only thing that can heal this old woman is a glass of whiskey with Evangeline,” she whined.
“That’s ...” Dr. Crane sighed. “That’s not gonna help.”
“Well, it couldn’t hurt,” Caroline snapped, planting her bony hands on her hips.
His voice was rough with anxiety. “Yes, it could.”
