Page 24 of The Hellkeeper

He’s awakened something inside me; something I never even realized existed. And now… now I want something twenty-four/seven, and I don’t even know what it is.

I just know that it aches. That it hurts. That I’m so frustrated I could scream.

It’s been two days since he littered this place with peonies and gave me the phone I wanted, but he hasn’t visited the restaurant since. He still sleeps in the same room as me. I feel him there, lingering in the walls, in my sheets, in the spaces I leave behind. But he hasn’t revealed himself. No more conversation. No more heated words that leave me burning from the inside out.

Something must be wrong with me.

Because I miss him.

And I want him to fix whatever mess he caused between my thighs.

I press my lips together, my fingers toying with the diamond pendant around my neck. Is what he said true? That the village, the people, the way we were raised, it’s all a lie? The elders always held lectures, hammering into our heads that pleasure was indulgence, indulgence was weakness, and weakness led straight into the devil’s hands. Even in marriage, there were rules, modesty, restraint, duty above desire.

And yet, he speaks of it like it’s something else entirely. Something I was meant to crave.

I put on my best smile as I turn to greet the customer who just walked in, only for it to falter slightly. She doesn’t look like she belongs here. Tall, elegant, draped in diamonds, she’s probably the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen.

My fingers brush over my necklace again. His gift. How am I supposed to make sense of my feelings when the man who stalks me, taunts me, and invades every part of my life is also the one who spoils me?

I shake the thought away. “Welcome. Would you like a table?”

She completely ignores me, giving the place a once-over. Something close to disgust twists her beautiful features into ugliness before she makes her way to an empty table like she’s gracing us with her presence.

I ignore her rudeness. “What can I get you?”

She looks at me like I’ve personally offended her, which isn’t possible as I’ve literally just met the woman. “Just a coffee. Black. No sugar.”

No sugar? Yeah, that tracks. She probably diets hard to maintain her figure. If she wanted just coffee, the café next door would’ve been the more logical choice, but of course, I keep that to myself.

I nod, jotting it down. Before I can leave, she lifts a manicured hand.

“You work here full-time?”

I glance down at my stained apron, then back at her. “That’s right.”

“That’s… nice.”

The pause is just long enough to make it clear it isn’t.

“I expected you to be more,” she says nonchalantly, flipping her perfect blonde hair back.

What does that even mean? I don’t even know her. “I’m sorry?”

She waves a delicate hand. “Oh, nothing. Forget it.”

She gives me a smile that’s all teeth. “I admire people like you. So content with what they have. Simple things. Simple lives.”

Ouch. Clearly, that was a dig.

“I suppose it’s a gift. Some people spend their whole lives wanting things they can’t have.”

It just felt like the right thing to say at the moment, because even though this woman looks perfect, there’s something about her that drips with desperation. She’s desperate. For what? I don’t know. I have no idea why she’s projecting that desperation onto me, but it doesn’t make me insecure, it just makes me sad for her.

I leave her stewing and return with her coffee. She doesn’t touch it right away, just sits there, stirring slowly, watching me.

I don’t let it get to me.

Eventually, she lifts the cup and takes a sip. She sets it down, dabbing at her red-tinted lips with a napkin. “It’s bitter.”

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