Page 1 of Don't Scare Me, My Love

ONE

THE EYE PATCH

JASON

Owningand working at a gas station toughens you up for whatever life throws at you. The amount of crazy I’ve seen over the years could fill several movies.

You wouldn't believe how many dipshits would put the nozzle in their car and then drive off. Not only did they spill fuel all over the place and risk setting the entire mountain on fire, but the repair costs and insurance hassle were just plain annoying. After this happened for the tenth time in the first three months of owning the station, I stopped selling gas at night. I was already having trouble finding employees, not to mention that the nights didn't bring in enough money to justify an extra shift.

Unfortunately, the list of annoying things doesn’t end there.

Those big-ass bricks on the restroom keys? You would think that people would remember to return them.Nope.I always keep five spare keys on hand so that at least we, the staff—which was me and three guys in their seventies who wanted to supplement their pensions—could continue to use them. Unless, of course, someone made a pit stop on their way through the mountains and decided it would be funny to vandalize the walls or do their business anywhere but the toilet.

Now and then, I get angry one-star reviews complaining that the only gas station within fifty miles was closed at night. Only to find those same people still waiting for me to open up in the morning and play all nice so things go faster.Yeah, see if taking out your frustration over your poor planning on me will make me work faster.

Spoiler: it won’t.

So, when I found a minivan parked behind the station that Sunday morning, the only thing that made me raise an eyebrow was that it wasn’t parked next to the gas pumps but blocking the back door instead.

What was the purpose of that? To catch me going inside to tell me to hurry the hell up? To hide from the police? To attack me when I unlock the back door to steal some money?Good luck with that.Even the old people here have given up on cash. Everything is done with credit cards these days.

The autumn rain had soaked the minivan. With the floodlight mounted over the back door bathing it in a cold, white glow, it almost looked like a coffin.

I drove past it, craning my neck to get a better look. Nobody was sitting in the front seats. The rear windows were tinted so that I couldn’t see inside—at least not from this angle.

The car looked like it belonged to a mother who had left her husband in a hurry with her two children and was now stranded in the woods. It was always a mom, a retiree, or an alcoholic. Never a hot guy. Never someone whose good looks would at least make up for whatever it was they made me deal with.

I backed into the space on the opposite side of the back parking lot, next to the small shed that was tucked into the pine trees so I could keep an eye on the van.

My jaw clenched. Only thirteen minutes to seven—already two minutes of my life lost to some new shit that was about to happen.

As I turned off the engine, my car’s headlights, which had made the rain look like needles trying to scratch the minivan, faded, leaving it looking dead and empty.

I pulled the hood of my jacket over my head and yanked the door of my car open. The wind made the drizzle feel colder than it was. It had been raining for days. That was the bad thing about living in a place surrounded by mountains. Once those clouds get here, they stick to the treetops and don’t leave until they’re empty. But the rain didn’t bother me too much. I’ve grown up with it. I’ll probably die with it. What bothered me was the van.

Fixing my gaze on it, I walked over. Another glance through the windshield revealed a black sweater and two ripe bananas on the driver’s seat.

The minivan was parked so close to the building that there was hardly any room. I didn't want to squeeze through the small gap because who knew if someone would jump at me out of nowhere, but I had little choice. If I went through the front door, the alarm would go off, and I wasn’t in the mood to deal with the police this morning.

Damn it. If I get robbed, I get robbed. I have insurance for that.

I wedged myself between the wall and the wet minivan, my eyes still scanning everything, trying to figure out what was going on with this car. I walked past the rear windows, and since I could only see my reflection because of the tint, I leaned closer until the faint reflection of me and my eye patch was gone.

As soon as I could make out the back row,somethingmoved.

Someonewas lying there.

Aguy.

His feet were tucked in because he was too tall for the seats.

I couldn’t see his face. Squinting my left eye, I moved closer to get a better view.

He lifted his head. For a second, the rain pounding on his car drowned out every other sound until he let out a thunderous scream. He jumped to the other side of the vehicle and pulled his feet in as if he were about to be bitten by a bear, causing the whole minivan to shake.

Startled, I jumped away and jabbed the handle of the back door behind me right into my spine, letting out an unplanned scream of my own that frightened the crows hiding in the trees so much that they flew away.

I put my hands up in front of me to show him I didn’t have any weapons and didn’t mean him any harm. Not that he would suddenly pull out a gun and claim it was self-defense in the end. You never know this far out in the woods.

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