Kutz’s mouth hangs open, while Zeke’s eyes burn emerald green, narrowed at the sight of us. I glance back to Silas to see him staring at his brothers. There’s something in his expression. Shame, maybe? His shoulders are slumped and his eyes drooping.
“I’ve…I’ve got to get home,” I say in the heavy silence. No one breaks eye contact as I shuffle past Silas and his brothers, grab my apron and purse, and scurry out the door.
* * *
The drive home is only a blur. A routine. I pay no real attention to my surroundings, only going through the motions until I am home, up the stairs, and in my room. As I sit on my bed and lean my head against the headboard, I pull my knees to my chest. My chin resting on them. Finally, I laugh.
I’ve had my first kiss. But my face falls. My first kiss was from a demon. But it’s so hard for me to think of him as that. He’s such a good man and he saved my life.
He works, laughs, loves, and seems so…normal. My eyes peer around my room to the locked door and window. There’s a part of me — a small part — that wishes he would visit me in the middle of the night. Not for the reason of a typical Incubus, but just so I could spend more time with him, away from prying eyes.
His brother’s reactions are concerning. Zeke’s mostly. Kutz seemed surprised, but something about Zeke’s narrowed eyes told me he didn’t approve — not in the least. He didn’t seem worried I would let their secret slip. The only conclusion I can come to is perhaps he feels I could be a temptation to Silas — the half of him he keeps in check.
I drift off to sleep thinking about my kiss and what it might mean. Was it simply a kiss because we shared a moment of understanding, or was it something more? How do I act around him now, and around his brothers? If Silas and I wish to be together, will his makeshift family support us? And if I chose to be with him, what would that mean for my soul?
* * *
Monday morning comes far too soon as I hand in my paper on the Bull Dog’s game and sit at our growing lunch table.
“Who’s this?” I ask, sitting down with an apple and taking a bite before Simone has time to answer.
“This is Josh,” she answers. “He’s Evan’s friend. I thought you two should meet.”
I peer at Josh for a moment. He could be Evan’s brother with his pocket protector and brown-rimmed glasses. His hair is short, with curls that appear hardly groomed, and when he smiles at me there’s a mouth full of braces staring back.
“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?” I meet Simone’s eyes with a ”don’t even think about it” glare. I already know where this is going. She’s trying to set me up. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not shallow enough to only base an opinion off of appearances, but there has to be some sort of physical attraction and there is zero here.
“Oh…um…he’s just Evan’s friend and I thought he could sit with us at lunch,” she stutters. An obvious lie but a generous one. I take another bite of my apple in relief.
“So, how are you two love birds doing?” I ask Simone.
She beams. “We are great. I met his parents last night. They are interesting people…” She rambles on. I barely listen. Truth be told, I don’t listen at all, only making the occasional “Mhm” sound and nodding while my head swims with images of my first kiss.
I daydream my way through environmental science and the rest of my classes the remainder of the day until it comes time to go home and get ready for work. But once I’m home, my mother and father sit waiting for me in the living room.
“Emma, sweetie?” my mother asks as I close the front door behind me.
“Yeah, Mom.”
“Could you come in here? Your father and I want to talk with you.”
I roll my eyes. “Since when?” I mutter under my breath.
“Come sit beside Mama,” she instructs. “We want to talk to you about a few things.”
I plop down on the sofa next to her and cross my arms, peering from her to my father who is sitting on the edge of a chair next to us. “So, what’s going on?”
My mother stirs a bit in her seat and my father scoots even further off the chair to be closer, though he sits straight and tall. “Well, Em, I suppose the first thing we want to make sure of is that you feel safe at your job. I know we never discussed what happened last week. I’ve been so busy at the office…but that’s no excuse,” my father concludes.
My dad works as a union delegate for a construction company. Although, I’ve never known what his job entails. All I know is he’s always told me never to show up at his work, for fear of getting in trouble I suppose. “So, do you…feel safe there? If not, I’m sure we can help you find a different job,” he continues.
I hold up my hand to silence him. “Dad, I promise you, the pizzeria is the safest place I can be. The owners are…protective over their staff. Had I been working anywhere else and it happened, I’m not sure if the outcome would have been the same.”
“What do you mean, dear?” my mom asks, sweeping my hair behind my ear before putting her arm around me.
“Just what I said. They’re protective.”
“So these guys, they are good men?” my father asks.
I nod. “Good men, Dad. There’s nothing to worry about. What’s this all about?”
My father glances to my mother and she nods. “The police have caught up with two men they believe were the robbers that day. They want you to come to the station and see if you can identify them. Of course, if you don’t want to or you’re scared, you don’t have to. We would never make you do something you don’t feel comfortable with.”
My mind nearly shuts off. Until now it hadn’t occurred to me that I might see those men again. I was going, though. “Yeah, I can do that.”
“Okay, well they’re waiting on us, so let’s load up,” my dad says.
“What about my job? I’m supposed to be at work in a couple of hours.”
“You’ll make it,” my mom says. “Besides, I’m sure your bosses will be up there as well.” That’s something else I hadn’t thought about. Silas and my parents in the same room. Great.
When we arrive it’s just like in the movies. Six men all line up under numbers, while Silas, Zeke, Kutz, and myself watch on. I recognize them immediately. I glance to Silas and he gives me an assuring nod.
“Do you recognize any of these men?” the officer asks.
I take a deep breath. “Yes. Number two and number six. That’s them.” A normal person would probably feel fear at this point.
The man who held a gun to my side is standing twenty feet away with only glass between us. I don’t feel fear though because I know the safest place in the world to be is in this tiny room standing next to Silas and his brothers.
The officer peers at the brothers and they all nod. “It was definitely two and six,” Silas agrees, as do Zeke and Kutz.
“Okay, let’s get you out of here. They’ll be charged with armed burglary immediately,” the officer assures us.
“Thanks, officer,” Zeke says, shaking the man’s hand. Silas and Kutz follow suit. I, on the other hand, am just ready to leave the room.
“So was it them?” my mother asks with concern. I nod. “Oh, are these your bosses?”
Glancing over my shoulder, I see the brothers walking toward us. I hold my breath.
“You must be Mr. and Mrs. Lester,” Silas says, holding out his hand to shake theirs.
“Indeed we are,” my mother says accepting his hand. “Emma only has good things to say about you three. It’s nice to finally meet you. It’s odd, living in such a small town and having never run into one another until now, and under such circumstances. What a pity.”
I roll my eyes.
“Mr. Lester,” Silas says, holding out his hand. My dad stares down at it for a moment before his eyes meet with Silas’s again. Finally, he accepts his hand and shakes it tightly. Too tight if you ask me.
“Mr.—?” my dad asks.
“Sims,” Silas replies.
“Silas Sims,” Dad repea
ts. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I suspect we’ll be seeing more of one another now.”
“How’s that?” Silas asks, his face smeared with confusion.
“Oh, I just have a hunch.” He drops Silas’s hand and takes my mom around the waist, pulling her out the door without another word. Silas stares after them, as do Zeke and Kutz.
“What was that all about?” I ask them.
Silas stares at the door they left through for another moment, then takes a deep breath and peeks at me with a smirk. He shrugs. “No idea. I’ll see you at work in an hour.” He walks away with Kutz at his side, but Zeke takes another second to stare at the door my father passed through.
“Zeke?” I say, snapping my fingers in front of him.
“Yeah,” he says, still staring at the door. “I’ll see you at work.” His eyes are as piercing as Silas’s have been in the past. He finally glances my way as he brushes past me.
Nine
The Beginning of the End
Work tonight is difficult. Identifying the robbers didn’t bother me one bit. But it seems ever since meeting my parents, Silas and his brothers have been avoiding me — staying in the kitchen the whole night so far. I drum my fingers on the waitress station as I peer out at the few customers we have.
Monday nights are always slow. There’s never much to do which just reinforces my belief they are purposely steering clear of me. When nine o’clock rolls around, all the customers are already gone and I’m left with nothing to do except clean. So I do so quietly.
Starting with the salad bar, I begin packing everything up, refilling it for the next day, and placing the containers in the freezer. I take my time doing the few dishes that have accumulated, and finally, I start wiping down the waitress station before moving to the customer tables out front. As I wipe them down, I can see into the kitchen, and though I try to refrain from looking, my curiosity gets the better of me.
A quick glance up finds all three of them huddled in the back of the kitchen as though they are having a mini conference. I wish I could hear what they’re saying. There’s a part of me that thinks it might be about my family. The way Silas and Zeke acted around my father was peculiar. Although, the way my father acted was as well.
I don’t understand any of this at all. I’ve finished my work before I know it and leave the vacuuming for the boys before I take my apron off, grab my purse from behind the station, and leave without so much as a goodbye, letting the door slam behind me. It’s when I’m trying to get my car door closed that one of them appears before me, and it just happens to be Silas.
He opens my door again. “No goodbye?”
“You’re joking, right?”
“What do you mean?”
“You three have avoided me all night like I’m contagious, and you have the nerve to ask why I didn’t say goodbye? Well, I didn’t want to interrupt whatever you three were discussing in the kitchen without me.”
He shakes his head slightly, wiping the little bead of sweat that’s formed from his forehead. “It’s not you, Emma.”
“I saw the look Zeke gave us when he saw us kiss. And I saw the way you, my father, and Zeke all stared at one another when you met. I’m not understanding what’s going on, and it’s obvious none of you are going to explain it to me, so I’ll just ask my father.”
His mouth opens to say something but he closes it again without a word. He stares at me, and me at him. “I…I don’t think that’s a good idea, Emma.”
I shake my head, rolling my eyes in the process. Climbing out of the car, I shut the door and lean against it. “Fine. Explain why then.”
He licks his lips and turns his head. “There’s things you don’t understand, and it’s probably for the best. As far as Zeke and our kiss…it should have never happened. That was my mistake.”
My eyes narrow. “Mistake.”
“Yes, one I admit to.” He crosses his arms across his chest. I do the same.
“Tell me why, Silas.”
“Because I’m a half-breed, Emma! Isn’t that reason enough? I don’t want to hurt you. And you will get hurt someday.”
“I don’t believe that. Not for a second.” Climbing back in my car, I slam the broken door and back out, blasting past him as I head home. Maybe I will have better luck with my father.
* * *
When I arrive home, I’m drained. I walk slowly, dragging my feet behind me, feeling my energy has been sapped from me. But once I spot my dad, I regain some sense of urgency.
“Hello, dear,” my mom greets me as I walk into the living room and sit on the couch adjacent from my father.
“Dad?” I ask.
He looks up from his book but doesn’t make eye contact. “Emma, you need to find a different job. Immediately.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask. “Why are you acting this way? Why are my bosses acting this way? I don’t understand any of this.” I jump up from my seat.
“You don’t have to understand, young lady. Just do as you’re told,” he yells.
“Okay, guys. Let’s…just take a deep breath and everyone calm down,” my mother instructs, pulling my elbow for me to sit again. I comply, but I cross my arms in annoyance. “What your father is trying to say is we don’t think it’s the appropriate place for you to be working — just you and three young men all night.”
“Oh, please, Mom. We live in Jefferson, for goodness’ sake. I could throw a stone and hit the next town over. If anything funny was going on everyone would know, including you two. Don’t use that as an excuse. Tell me what’s actually going on here.”
“Darling, please. Your father and I are just concerned.”
“Mom, Dad,” I begin calming my voice, “as I told you before there’s no safer place to be. Silas saved my life from that gunman. I might not be here right now if not for him. Please, I beg you, trust me on this one.”
My father and mother stare at one another for a few moments. Dad’s jaw locks, and my mother’s eyes fall to her lap. “Emma,” my dad says, “I want to know immediately if anything takes place that makes you feel uncomfortable. It doesn’t matter what it is or how small it appears. Anything.”
I nod, still not quite understanding. “You got it.” Rising from my seat again, I flee up the stairs, closing the door behind me and crashing onto my bed. My head swims.
A mistake, he said. I was mad at the time, but now my heart breaks as I hug my pillow and tears fall. Staring into the darkness outside my window, I push myself off the bed and go to it, opening it. The cool night breeze rushes in and blows against my face and hair.
I stare out. Am I searching for him? Would he know if I called out to him? I cross the room, dragging my vanity chair to the opening and sit, resting my head on my arms which lie on the window seal. As I gaze out at the trees, the rustling sound of the wind blowing through them relaxes me.
My eyes become heavy as I struggle to keep them open. But soon it becomes too difficult and they close, until suddenly a hand grabs mine forcefully and I’m jolted awake.
“Emma Tracy! What did I tell you about keeping this thing closed and locked?” my father asks sternly. I glance down at his hand and notice a ring on his finger I’ve never seen before. I’m only able to get the slightest glimpse of it before he slams the window down, locking it. “Get in bed. You have school tomorrow.”
“Dad? What’s that ring?” It’s gold in color and thick. The symbol on it is a simple one: a hatchet of some sort, which is also golden but is raised a bit from the surface of the ring. Just enough to see it’s there. It’s almost camouflaged.
My father covers his hand. “It’s nothing. It belonged to your grandfather and his father before him. The ring has been in the family for years now.”
“I’ve never seen you wear it before,” I say, climbing into bed fully clothed and uncaring.
“Go to sleep, Em. You have school tomorrow.” He leaves, but not before turning the light off and locking the door.
* * *
<
br /> I slept little last night. The thought of seeing Silas at work tonight kept me awake. Him saying our kiss was a mistake was like a knife to the heart. Of course, the first time I decide to open myself up to someone and become vulnerable, this is what happens.
I throw myself into my studies today and hang on every word every instructor says. Taking notes and doing most of the assigned homework as it’s given to me. Anything to keep my mind from racing between Silas and my father.
Having my mother in my life for the first time in a long time has been nice. She was the obvious voice of reason last night. I’m not used to seeing her sober. It’s odd, like she has been asleep for ten years and has finally awakened. I wonder what would happen if I tried to talk with her. Perhaps she could give me some answers, or at the least some advice.
I throw my books in my locker after school ends, having completed all my homework in classes, and rush to my car. When I arrive home I’m happy to see my father is still at work and my mother is doing dishes in the kitchen. But I’m unsure how to start this conversation.
I have so many questions and emotions. The one thing I do know is I can’t tell her about Silas and me. It’s obvious they don’t want me to have any sort of relationship — at least with one of my bosses.
“Hey, honey,” my mother greets me as I enter the kitchen.
“Hey, Mom. Need any help?”
“Sure. I’ll wash, you dry,” she says, handing me a dishcloth.
I take the rag and start drying the dishes that sit on the rack. “Mom, can I talk to you?”
Her eyes glance up to the window above the sink for a moment, and I sense her breathing stops for a moment before she answers. “Of course.”
I take a deep breath as I shove the cloth down in a glass to dry the inside. “What’s changed?”
“I’m not sure I know what you mean,” she says.
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