Page 69 of 12 Months of Mayhem

Her voice carried from somewhere behind the shelves, and I knew immediately it was her.

I’d spent all day trying to push her out of my head, but the second I heard her, it was like I’d been waiting for it.

I glanced around, but I wasn’t really looking at the shelves or the cheap display racks near the register. I was looking for her.

A shift in the air made me turn.

She walked toward me from one of the aisles and moved with an easy kind of confidence, unaware of me at first. She had another oversized sweatshirt on with the sleeves hanging down past her hands, worn jeans that fit just right, and black boots that had seen better days. Her dark hair was piled on top of her head in a messy knot, with loose strands falling around her face.

The second her eyes landed on me, she stopped in her tracks.

A surprised flicker crossed her face.

“Hey,” I called.

Maddie sputtered. “Oh, uh, hey, hi, oh…” She shifted uncomfortably, and her eyes darted around like she wasn’t sure what to do with me standing in her store at this hour.

A small smile played on my lips. “I was wondering if you were working tonight.”

She looked around like the answer wasn’t obvious. “Uh, I don’t think there’s been a time in the past five years I haven’t been here.”

Before I could say anything else, the door swung open behind me, and a guy stomped in. I turned to see him looking pissed.

“The fucking pump won’t take my card,” he called angrily.

I glared at him and felt my irritation spike. There were a lot of things I let slide, but people acting like assholes over stupid shit wasn’t one of them. My jaw clenched, and I was just about to tell him to calm the fuck down when Maddie spoke first.

“I can help you,” she said quickly and moved toward the counter. “The pump’s been acting up all night.”

She slid behind the register, and her fingers moved over the buttons with the kind of ease that told me she had done this a million times before. The guy stomped up to the counter, still muttering under his breath, and slammed his card down like that was gonna make a difference.

“What’s the point of having pay-at-the-pump when it doesn’t fucking work?” he spat.

Yeah, I did not like this guy’s tone one fucking bit.

I stepped up beside him and closed the space between us. He wasn’t a small guy, but I had a couple of inches and a hell of a lot more weight on him. He looked up, meeting my eyes, and I just folded my arms over my chest and stared. Didn’t say a damn word.

Maddie grabbed his card, completely unfazed. “How much did you want to put in?” she asked, her voice calm and professional.

The guy hesitated and cut his gaze back to me. I could see the wheels turning in his head, wondering if he could take me if it came down to it.

One look at me, and I knew he knew the answer.

“Uh, just twenty,” he muttered, suddenly a whole lot less aggressive. He turned back to Maddie, his voice quieter. “Please.”

Now that tone I liked. But I didn’t step back.

Maddie quickly swiped his card and handed it back to him. “You should be good to go. Sorry the card reader wasn’t working.”

The guy snatched his card back and shoved it into his pocket. “Yeah, you should get that fixed.”

I growled low in my throat, not loud, just enough that he heard it. He stiffened, and his shoulders locked up. Then, ever so slightly, he glanced at me out of the corner of his eye.

“But, uh,” he stammered, and shifted on his feet, “it’s okay. I understand how things are.”

I watched him cower, and his bravado was gone in an instant as he scurried toward the door. The bell above the door jingled, and then he was gone as he scurried back to the pump like a scared little puppy.

The door swung shut.

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