Page 45 of Demons & Damnation







Chapter 18

Kyla was not in the mood for a twelve-hour shift, and especially not twelve hours of Keith. When she arrived at the pub, as per usual for Sunday’s, the place was heaving. Darren, Keith’s only friend, ran around behind the bar trying to serve everyone their drinks in a timely manner.

Why Keith couldn’t hire one or two more staff for weekends, Kyla couldn’t fathom. Well, she could. She guessed he’d rather keep the money in his bank account ready for his monthly visits to the local prostitute. A cold chill ran down Kyla’s spine as she mentally praised the woman bold enough to take Keith’s clothes off for any amount of money.

Keith stayed away from Kyla for the first couple of hours, run ragged in the kitchen cooking meals, his tiny little brain couldn’t cope with more than one thing at once. By three p.m., most of the lunch crowd had disappeared, no doubt to go home and collapse on the sofa. The pace would pick up again around teatime when others would come in for an evening meal.

Just before three thirty, Lloyd, Keith’s most loyal customer, ordered his usual grilled sandwich and sweet potato fries. Kyla served him his usual pint of ale before heading into the kitchen to give Keith the order.

Kyla opened the kitchen door to see Keith wiping a mixing bowl clean with his finger, then sucking it. She stood staring at him, letting the door slam shut behind her. Keith jumped, dropped the bowl, and wiped his podgy little hands all over his dirty white apron.

“Kyla, dear. I didn’t expect you back here with more orders just yet.”

“Evidently,” she replied, sarcasm dripping from that one word.

“Is there a problem?”

“Lloyd wants his ham and cheese grilled sandwich with the sweet fries.”

He nodded. “I don’t suppose you could be a doll could you please and get the sweet potatoes off the shelf for me?”

Kyla glanced over to her left, at the walk-in pantry. Tucked away in the far corner on the top shelf, were the sweet potatoes. Keith’s short little ass would struggle without a stool, but Kyla knew there was one in there.

Still, in the spirit of being a good employee, she did as she was asked. As she grabbed hold of the plastic bag with the last of the potatoes inside, a greasy fat hand settled on her hip.

“Careful, dear. I’m behind you getting the bread.”

The repulsion that swept through her at feeling his touch made her stomach swell with nausea. Fury ignited in her veins. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and mentally counted to ten.

However, as Keith stretched forwards to take the bread from the lower shelf, his hand, of course, happened to slip and rest on her ass.

Her fury boiled over into rage. Three years of working for this slobbery, grimy pervert who took any opportunity to touch her came to a head.

Kyla spun around so fast, his hand ended up resting over her groin. The vile man grinned, thinking she was finally giving in to his advances. Kyla recognised the predatory glint in his eyes, abhorrent distaste flooding her in a split second.

Taking his hand, she put her thumb on his and her fingers on top of his wrist. She piled on the pressure, forcing his chubby digit back to the underneath of his forearm. He ran backwards from the pain, squealing like a pig.

But she wasn’t done. The horrible creature needed to learn a lesson—this had all gone on too long.

Keith bumped into the shelving behind him, and Kyla grabbed a hold of his throat with her other hand, digging her fingernails into the sweaty folds of his neck.

“Stop fucking touching me,” she said, her top lip curling back as she all but snarled. “You’re nothing but a sleazy pervert with nothing better to do than wank himself silly over his bar staff. You will NOT touch me, or any of the other girls EVER again. Do I make myself clear?”

The arrogant man grinned at her. “You love it,” he said, snaking his tongue out to lick his lips. “You’re all little whores who love the idea of a man jacking off to thoughts of you.”