Page 34 of Royal Havoc

Onyx: 2024

Hormones are worse than devil birds! They swoop in uninvited, peck around at your lady bits, and hover when you try to shoo them away.

The prick’s got me wishing I’d changed my thong before charging out of the cottage after him. Heknewif he told me to stay, I’d leave, just to spite him.

Ugh, I totally let him mind fuck me!

The rich butterscotch scent intertwines with the bitter aroma, settling my hateful mood once I step in line. A middle-aged couple flirts disgustingly in front of me, to the point I almost gag. Who needs all that sickeningly sweet affection?

Someone who’s jealous of never getting any attention.

Maybe….

“You came back,” Amy gushes, her dark-painted lips stretched across her face, smiling at me.

Hesitantly stepping towards the counter, her joy setting me on edge. “Yup,” I answer, reading the sign above her, trying to avoid her bighearted stare.

She sways back and forth, oblivious to the heavy air hanging between us. “Your usual?” she asks, grotesquely sweet.

“Um… yeah,” I answer tensely.

How does one visit constitute a usual? Isn’t that a phrase most would use for a customer they’ve had for years? Or even months? I’ve literally ordered once, and the chick has it memorized?

I glance around the small shop, observing the few older people scattered around enjoying their day.

“Not my business,” she starts, causing me to flinch, not realizing she’d finished making my order. “It’s a little early,” she hints cryptically.

Glancing at my phone, my brows dip when I meet her questioning stare. “It’s almost eleven.”

She exhales as she leans on the counter, tucking some of the blonde strands hanging from her messy bun behind her ear. “I just meant, if you needed to talk…” her words hanging between us as she straightens to fold down the top of the small bag beside my to-go cup.

What the hell is she saying?

“Talk about what?” I ask somberly, letting out every bit of my confusion.

She finally catches my vibe, fidgeting with her dark nails. “Not judging, just sayin’, since you’re not at school…”

Annoyance drips over me. “I wasn’t feeling it,” I shrug, dropping my card on the counter, ready to cut and run.

“Sounds like a guy,” she throws out nonchalantly, one of her thick brows raised as she swipes the card.

“It’s not —” stifling my own words when I notice her read the name on the card before examining my throat.

This nosy bitch is stuck in left field without a chance in hell.

When I rip the card from her hand. “I get it. Guys are assholes.” She shrugs carelessly.

Fuck Vex! I hate turtlenecks!

“Whatever,” I sigh, grabbing the cup with so much force I almost pop the top off from how hard I’m squeezing it.

All I’m searching for is some damn privacy, to think. I remind myself as I hightail it to the back of the small shop and drop the small bag on one of the empty tables by the windows before falling into the empty chair. My mind spins as I take my first sip. Hendrix might be a lot of things, but I’ve never heard of him being an abuser. The few years he decided to hang around, he was… nice. I remember us playing dolls…

Noticing my phone on the table reminds me of the other task I need to handle.

He answers on the second ring. “Onyx?”

“Hey, Nolan.”

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