Page 53 of These Witches Don't Burn
“I know.” I groan and flop back against the couch, staring at the exposed beams of the pool house ceiling. “But I can’t just text her. That seems too small for what I did.”
“Why not?” Benton asks. “A text is better than nothing.”
Gemma ignores him. “We’ll think of something perfect. A grand gesture that says ‘I’m sorry’ without looking like you’re trying too hard.”
“It has to be soon though. It’s already been over a day.”
“But why—” Benton tries, but we both shush him.
Gemma’s eyes grow wide. A grin lights up her face. “I have just the thing.”
•••
When I go to work the next day, Lauren won’t stop looking at me. A few days ago, I might have chalked up her interest as the worry of a highly perceptive boss. I couldn’t muster my usual level of cheer when I clocked in this morning, and I’m sure the forced curve of my lips set off her Concerned Adult mode.
But now my mind goes to a more insidious place.
What if Lauren really is a Witch Hunter? It’s possible she noticed Veronica spelling the air that day before the bonfire.
I shake the thoughts away and focus on my work. The displayof tarot and oracle decks is already meticulously ordered, but I adjust the angles again anyway, making sure they’re perfect. I turn to work on the runes and nearly jump out of my skin.
Savannah stands before me, a hand cocked on her hip and a scowl on her face. She looks pissed, but I have no idea why.
“Hi, Savannah. I hope you weren’t waiting too long,” I say, my face flaming. “Can I help you find something?”
“You want to help me? Stay away from Veronica. You’ve done enough damage.”
“Damage?” I have no clue what she’s talking about.
Savannah rolls her eyes. “You heard me. She told me everything. How you flirted with her and got her hopes up just so you could reject her again. You humiliated her.”
“But I didn’t—”
“Save it.” She comes in close, her flowery perfume overpowering. “If you don’t leave Ronnie alone, Iwillhurt you.”
There’s nothing I can say to convince her she’s wrong—Veronica clearly spun what happened to make me the bad guy—so I keep quiet. Savannah seems satisfied by my silence. She turns on her heel and slips out the front door.
“What was that about?” Lauren’s voice startles me, and she reaches out a steadying hand. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s fine. Do you need me on the register?” The shop is busier than usual, and Cal casts a frazzled look our way as his line grows to five customers deep.
Lauren glances back at the front counter, a frown pulling at her lips. “Maybe in a minute. I wanted to ask you about something.”
“Ask about what?”
Lauren fidgets, fussing with the pentacle she wears aroundher neck. “Your energy is different today. Withdrawn.” She steps closer and lowers her voice as a customer wanders past. “Is everything okay at home?”
“Home is the least of my worries,” I say without thinking. I stumble over what to say next. It’s not like I can tell her about yesterday’s coven meeting or the threats hanging over us.
“Something else then?” she prompts. “If there’s anything I can do to help, please don’t hesitate to ask. I’m worried about you.”
Her concern blossoms a seed of guilt in my chest for thinking she was a Witch Hunter. But maybe that’s what she wants? I sigh internally. Being suspicious of everyone is exhausting.
The bells chime above the door, and I use the excuse to turn away. “I should really help with the register.”
“Hannah.”
“Hey, Lauren,” a man says behind me. Chills run down my arms. I know that voice.
