Page 22 of Haven Bound
My mom has called and texted several times today, leaving messages telling me that I need to call her. I haven’t had a chance to get back to her, but knowing her, she just needs me to do something for her and it can wait until later. I don’t have the mental capacity to deal with any of her drama and selfishness right now.
Despite that, the busy nature of the bakery has kept my mind mostly out of the dark and focused on customers, except for the gray sedan that’s been parked on the main street outside all day. The car is sitting acrossthe street—directly within my line of sight when I’m standing at the register—and a hint of nausea mixed with panic swirls in my stomach every time I look up to see it.
The rational side of my brain tells me that I’m overthinking it and worrying about nothing. But theside that’s filled with anxiety and that always assumes the worst-case scenarios will come to pass doesn’t like it.
Quinn pops her head back into the kitchen as I’m sliding a covered tray of cookie dough into one of the large commercial refrigerators. “Hey, Chels, are you still okay with me leaving a little early? I’ve got an appointment that I can’t miss.”
I forgot she was taking off early today.The idea of being here alone kind of freaks me out right now, but I can’t ask her to stay when I know she has somewhere else to be. At least I have the comfort of the new security system and knowing that it's being monitored.
“Go for it! I’ve got this.” All I really need to do is finish prepping a few recipes, which she wouldn’t be helping with anyway, and then get everything cleaned up.
“Thanks, I’ll make it up by staying late for my next shift,” Quinn says as she unties her apron from her waist.
“Don’t worry about it, Quinn. I appreciate everything you do to help me around here. Plus, you’re not leaving that early. Are you sure you don’t need a ride?”
She pulls her blonde hair down from her messy top-knot and runs her fingers through the tresses before pulling it back up into a ponytail. “I’ll be okay. I called for an Uber already. Thanks, though!”
Quinn has never been super upfront with personal details, but I do know that she doesn’t have a car and mostly uses public transportation,her bicycle, or transport services to get around town. I know what it’s like to be ashamed of certain aspects of your life and to want to keep the details to yourself, so I’ve never pried.
“Do me a favor and text me when you get there, okay? Just so I know that you’re safe.” She smiles and assures me that she’ll text as she heads out the door, double-checking the model and color of the vehicle on her phone before she climbs into it.
She almost always turns me down any time I ever offer to drive her, and I understand that too. I hate it when I feel like I’m inconveniencing people or being a burden. The damn car that’s been parked outside all day has me on edge.
With Quinn gone, I decide to err on the side of caution and lock up a little bit early. Not too many customers trickle in this late anyway. With the girl’s night that Hailey and I have planned, I throw all of the remaining cookies and the few mini bundt cakes into a blue bakery box, knowing that at some point we’ll both be looking for something sweet to eat.
Popping in my wireless Bluetooth earbuds and setting up my playlist, I power through getting everything cleaned up and disinfected in no time. When I’m finally done, I untie my apron from around my waist and hang it up with the others before doing one last check of the storefront area.
After Austin came by and installed the new security cameras, he also had some new window shades installed that, when lowered, make it impossible to see inside through the front windows. It seemed like a bit much at the time, but now I'm thankful for the little piece of extra security. As I’m rounding the corner of the counter to pull down theshades over the windows and the entry door, I notice the car that’s been sitting across the street all day is finally gone.
I knew that I was worrying about it for nothing. Shaking my head as I turn back around to head through the kitchen to the back door exit, my steps falter.
Sitting on the counter next to the register is a single deep red rose with a black satin ribbon tied around the stem.
18
Chelsea
The phone only ringstwice before Hailey’s voice answers and filters through my car’s speakers.
“Pleeeease tell me that you’re on your way! I swear that massage table is calling my name already,” Hailey chimes. I can already picture her twirling in circles in her chair at her desk.
“Hey, Hails. Uh, yeah… I’m on my way. I just got a little held up at the bakery. I’m running home to throw an overnight bag together now.” I do my best to keep the anxiety out of my voice, grappling with the thought that the rose was likely agiftfrom Jason.
“Why do you sound weird? What happened?” Of course she would notice the gravelly tone of my voice. When you’ve been best friends with someone for as long as we have, it’s no surprise that she can pick up on my tells and tics even when I try to hide them.
“Jason came into Buttersweet again,” I say quietly as I pull up to a red light, anxiously chewing at the inside of my bottom lip.
“What! Are you okay? What did he do?” Her anger and worry for me are evident in her tone. I can hear what sounds like paper shuffling in the background. The job title of Event Coordinator sounds fancy, but every single event comes with a monumental pile of paperwork that has to becompleted and tasks to be done, leaving Hailey to sometimes feel more like an office assistant than the epic event planner that she is.
“He didn’t reallydoanything… Quinn left early for an appointment, so I was there alone, and when I was locking up I found a single rose with a black ribbon tied around the stem sitting on the counter. I didn’tseehim but, who else would have done that?” In my haste to get out of there, I completely forgot to even check the security cameras to confirm that it was him. But there’s not a single doubt in my mind that it was.
As far as I know, he’s the only one twisted enough to derive pleasure from my fear. It’s part of the sick power that he likes to hold over me.
“Where are you now?” Hailey asks as the light I’m sitting at finally turns green. I’m only about ten minutes from home, but something about going to the house by myself has me feeling insanely uneasy. I find myself pausing for a moment at the green light, not immediately accelerating.
“I’m almost to the house, but—” My eyes catch on a familiar gray sedan in my rearview mirror. It’s trailing behind me, a few cars tucked in between us. “I think someone’s following me,” I murmur, gripping the steering wheel so tightly that my fingers ache from the pressure.
“Why do you think that?” she asks, her voice lowering.
