Page 37 of Feverburn

His lashes met in a slow blink as he swallowed hard.“Give it to the right man next time.”And from there, he turned around and pushed the swinging doors open wide, the sunlightblindingme, forcing me to see the harsh light of day.

Days went by with no texts, books, or loaded looks. Kiszka was nowhere in sight, and the office light was always off. Even though I was living above him, it was like he disappeared. I was too proud to go into the store to track him down for answers. I’d be apatheticcrying mess, so it didn’t matter.

His last name was the first thing I saw when I woke up with the vintage mural across the loft from my bed. After three days, I nailed up a tapestry to cover it.

I moved tables around at the coffee shop so I could put a display of Kaylee’s pottery to block my view of the fire crotch faerie. I couldn’t run past the spot where he first kissed me in the forest. I couldn’t listen to Greta. When I did laundry, I choked back a sob when I saw my cheesy wolf shirt with the russet mark, his mark, still on the inside.

It was over too soon before it could start. That’s what hurt the most, along with the lack of reasons. It made me feel untouchable, like damaged goods. Maybe Carson didn’t want to date the girl involved in Kaylee’s affair. Perhaps I was too guarded? I needed to be in the past.

I asked myself why he did what he did, but I couldn’t find answers. It created a numb feeling in me. The sadness quickly morphed into scorn. I renamed his drink and blared Garth Brooks in my loft on my days off. One night, I saw Rambo while out back. Out of spite, I left a trail of Wheat Thins to thebackdoorand left it cracked open all night, hoping Carson would wake up to raccoon shit all over.

In my disdain for Carson, I’d have pockets of deep heartache. I almost wished I had dated him, so it was worth all this torment. To remedy my pain, I planned a healing spell of self-loveto pour good energy back into myself. That way, it wouldn’t matter what he did. This was my fresh start. No man could take that away from me, dammit!

On the third night of the waxing crescent moon phase, I gathered green candles and chrysocolla crystals, both great for healing heartache. I also mixed some lavender, rose, and calendula to burn on a charcoal disc in my mini cauldron. As I squared my shoulders, I set my intentions and lit the candles and herbs. Halfway through the ritual, I had to pee. When I returned from the bathroom, the entire macrame above my altar was on fire.

I froze, staring at the blaze. It was already eating up my entire altar, flames licking the wood, smoke expanding wider. I ran to my bed topluckmy phone up to call 911 as the firedevouredthe ropes of the macrame, charring the brick wall, angrily popping and sizzling. While on the phone with dispatch, I grabbed what I could around the flames like the vase Kaylee made me, yelping when the fire got too close to my hand.

Coming to my senses, I remembered I had a fire extinguisher beneath the kitchensink. Pinning the phone between my face and shoulder, I sprayed the can, dousing the flames. My eyes burned, and my lungsstung. Cinders still flashed with smoke now thick in my loft. Coughing, I realized I had to leave.

“Ma’am, you need to exit the building. Where are you located?”

Rushing out the back door, I cringed,“I’m at Kouris Hardware on Borrel Avenue and Main Street.”

Chapter Sixteen

I got a call late one night from my buddy Rhett at the fire department. He told me a fire had happened in the loft above my store. I sat straight up in bed, seeing black spots, thinking about my dream of her dying amongst flames. I asked if Rosie was safe, and he explained she was the one who called. She was with Frankie at the clinic, getting checked for smoke inhalation.

I headed into town, hating that I somehow did this to her with my shitty luck. If Rosie ever got hurt because of me, I couldn’t live with myself. Hearing she was okay, myworrymorphed into dread over the damage to my store. Anyattackon the store was anattackon me. It was more than my income; it was my legacy. People don’t understand how heavy Greek guilt is. My pappou and yia yia sacrificed so much, moving to America. I was obligated to keep the store operating. My brother went the ranger route, and my sister went into nursing. I had several cousins, but they all passed on helping me. Some went to college, some moved, and some straight-up admitted the idea of managing a hardware store was boring as fuck. Their decisions were valid but also a pain in my ass.

I might be cursed and hated around town, but none of that could change one unshakeable truth—I was a dutiful son. I had no choice; it was one of my only redeeming qualities. I might be a cranky asshole, but I stay when most people leave.

Rhett was waiting for me in the back lot, the firetruck parked along the side street. The fire charred some brick inside, damaged the ceiling, andruinedher dresser. He said it was caused by candles because, of course, my little firecracker was playing with flames.

Due to safety and regulations, I’d have to close my store while the damage was repaired and structural safety was ensured. I didn’t mind. I was glad both Rosie and the store were mostly unscathed. Rhett hung around to escort her to get some of her things to stay with Azalea at Stonebriar Inn. I thanked the fire department for their help and caught Rosie near her 4Runner.

“Are you okay?”I asked, looking her over for any signs she was hurt. I reached out a hand to touch her and shoved it in my pocket instead.

“I’m fine. I’m sorry I almost burnt your store down. I know how much it means to you, and I’m truly sorry.”She crossed her arms over her chest.

“Candles?”I teased, enjoying talking to her, even if it was about something as shitty as this.

“It was for a ritual. Witchy stuff, you know, candlemagic.”

I shook my head, mumbling,“Magissa…”under my breath in amusement.

“What?”she asked.

“Nothing.”

I wish she’d stop being so defensive. I couldn’t date her, especially now. But it was hard not to feel like afoolaround her. She was so damn tempting.

“What did you just say in Greek?”

I called her a witch but wouldn’t let her know that detail.“Listen, be safe, okay? And when you return to the store, maybe ease off the candles, okay Sparky?”

She scoffed and slammed the trunk door.“You don’t get to stand here and talk to me like a condescending prick! Whispering shit in Greek and mansplaining fire safety to me after already catching menakedin the woods.”Her mouth went in a tense line.“After already catching menakedwith a raccoon. Oh, and let’s not forget when I was drunk off my ass! I get it. You’ve seen me at my worse, and it's really fucking unfair. But you don’t have to pretend to care about me. We both know I’m in the way of your life here.”

“What?”I spat.

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