Secrets Abound (Supernaturally Bound Book 1) (9 page)

What
was
that? Static electricity? Maybe. If it was, it had been building for a while because that was strong. I wasn’t vibrating, anymore. It was like all that energy just dispersed or something. How bizarre.

I spent the rest of the period staring straight ahead or down at my paper. I didn’t want to look at Vicky, again. The next class went by in a flash. I was lost in thought the entire time and couldn’t tell you a single thing Mrs. Conner said.

After school, I went home and got dressed for work. I left my hair in a braid and tugged on the poodle skirt and blouse that screamed 1950’s. I walked the short distance from my house to Betty’s Diner.

I was relieved to see that both Kayla and Samantha were here today. I wouldn’t have to cover quite so many tables. I needed the money, but I
so
wasn’t in the mood to be cheerful, today.

“How are you today, Mrs. Harris?” I asked Julie Harris. She was a heavy set lady with short brown hair that she always wore curly and tall like you would have seen in the eighties. She was well-known as being the town gossip, so I always knew my ears would get a workout when she sat in my section.

“Oh, hi Bridget. I’m fabulous. How are Bill and Judy? I haven’t seen them around in a while.”

“They’re good.” I said unable to keep my tone from sounding bitter.

She gave me a sympathetic look. Everyone in town knew Bill and Judy were drunks, but nobody ever spoke of it directly to them or their foster kids.

“Do you know what you want to drink?” I asked her.

“Sweet tea.” She said, and I left to get her drink. I entered the kitchen to get to the pot of tea and cups.

“Should I start making the chicken strip basket?” Damon asked. Damon was the evening cook at Betty’s Diner and worked mornings at Jeffery’s Marketplace.

He was sexy in a “too cool for school” sort of way. He had messy black hair and had tattoos all the way down his arms. His lip was pierced. He wasn’t supposed to wear his lip ring at work, but as long as Betty wasn’t here, then he would. He was nineteen and had graduated last year.

“What if
I
make the chicken strip basket, and you go take Mrs. Harris her order?” I suggested.

“No, I’m good.” He gave me a lopsided grin. He was so cute when he did that.

“Oh come on. She won’t talk your ear off. You scare her.” I smiled.

“While it may be my goal in life to scare the old bitties of this town, Betty would kill me.” He said.

“Fine, but if I’m not back in ten minutes, you send someone to save me.” I pouted.

“Deal.” He laughed as he threw chicken strips and French fries in the deep fryer.

“What can I get you today?” I asked Mrs. Harris as I set her drink down on the table.

“I’m not sure, yet.” She pretended to examine the menu. She always did this to keep me standing there listening to her stories, but she always ended up getting the chicken strip basket. “Have you heard about that Lincoln murderer?” She asked.

“Yes, I saw something about it on the news.” I told her.

“You know what they’re calling him now, right?” Her eyes were wide. “They’re calling him John Wilkes Booth. Get it? The
Lincoln
murderer.”

“Yes, clever.” I tried to strip my voice of sarcasm. It was difficult. I was disgusted with how the media was glorifying the killer. He was a sick bastard who deserved to rot in hell. Not someone to give clever nicknames to.

“Well, I hope all you kids are smart enough to steer clear of Lincoln. I know everyone thinks that only blondes are in danger, but a psycho is a psycho, and you never know what they are going to do.” She said.

“Yes, ma’am. “ I answered. She gave me a sour look at the word ma’am but didn’t say anything.

“I guess I’ll get the chicken strip basket.” She said finally.

“Okay, I’ll go put that order in for you, right now.” I told her.

I glanced around for a second. She was the only one in my section, at the moment. Samantha and Kayla were rolling silverware at one of the booths. I decided I would hide from Mrs. Harris in the kitchen until her food was ready.

Damon was placing bread in the toaster when I entered. I noticed something on his neck. At first I thought something was actually crawling on him, but then, I realized it was a tattoo.

“When did you get the tattoo on your neck?” I asked him, hopping up on one of the counters opposite the grill.

“A few days ago. It’s a scorpion. Do you want to see?” He asked.

“Yeah.” I answered.

He sauntered over to where I was sitting and angled his head to the side. It was an incredibly realistic scorpion. This made me think of Aiden’s tattoo. I hadn’t seen the whole thing. It started so enticingly on his rippled abs and continued on with a downward descent to unknown territory I had yet to explore but had thought about on more than one occasion. What was visible seemed to be a tail of some sort, but I couldn’t tell what animal it might have connected to. I pushed the images from my mind and focused on Damon’s tattoo.

“I like it. I didn’t know you were a Scorpio.” I said.

“Yeah, what sign are you?” He asked, going back to his work.

“Cancer.” I answered.

“Nice. You should get it tattooed somewhere.” He suggested.

“Well, I still have a couple of years to decide on a tattoo.” I muttered.

“You know, if you don’t want to wait until you’re eighteen, I know a guy. I could hook you up.” He grinned.

“
That
sounds sanitary.” I said sarcastically.

“No, it’s all good. I get all my tattoos from him. I’ve never had a problem.” He assured me.

“Alright, I’ll think about it.” I said. He handed me the now ready chicken strip basket.

“Good luck.” He winked. I went back out to face Mrs. Harris.

The next few hours were busy. Betty’s Diner was the only restaurant in Waverly, so we had a full house most nights.

Cassie came in right as it slowed back down, so I decided to take my break. I waltzed to the kitchen to clock out and take off my apron.

“Could you make me a couple of burgers, please?” I asked Damon sweetly.

“I guess I could do that.” His lips tipped up at the sides.

“Thank you.” I smiled. I took two cups and a pitcher of water with me to the booth that Cassie lounged in.

“Food is on its way.” I slid into the seat across from her.

“Good, I’m starving.” She poured herself a glass of water. “Do you want to use my cell to call Aiden?”

“No, it can wait until Saturday. Besides, I wouldn’t know how to have
that
conversation over the phone.”

“Face to face is good. Face
on
face is even better.” She winked before glancing behind me. Her expression changed to flirty and she said, “Who is the hottie bringing over our food?” Damon walked up and set our food down in front of us.

“Cassie this is Damon, our cook. Damon this is Cassie.” I introduced.

“Nice to meet you.” Damon gave her a nod.

“Back at you.” She said, giving him a smile. Damon went back to the kitchen and she said, “If things don’t work out with you and Aiden, you should definitely hook up with
him.
”

“Cassie, you think I should hook up with every cute guy.” I rolled my eyes.

“So, you admit you think Damon’s hot.” She teased.

“Well, yeah. I mean look at him.” I grinned.

“I thought I’d bring you some fries.” I heard Damon say beside me. He eyed us awkwardly, set them down, and waltzed back toward the kitchen.

“Oh my God! I’m going to kill you Cassie. How long was he standing there?” I asked her.

“Long enough to hear how cute you think he is.” She laughed.

I was horrified. I knew my face was bright red. I would definitely remember to get her back for this. I finished my burger and fries while I listened to her rattle on over Ryan.

When my break was over, I darted through the kitchen to the back office to clock back in. I stood in there for a second deciding how I wanted to approach Damon. I seriously could strangle Cassie. She really knew how to make things awkward for me. I took a deep breath and entered the kitchen.

“Listen, I know you heard Cassie and me talking back there…” I began.

“Hey, don’t sweat it. It’s never a bad thing to hear a cute girl admitting she thinks you’re hot.” He said with his side smile.

“Okay, so we’re cool? No awkwardness?” I asked.

“We’re as cool as Vanilla Ice.” He said.

“Then we’re lame?” I teased.

“Oh, you better take that back before I start rapping.” He threatened.

“Okay, I take it back, just please do not start rapping.” I laughed.

The rest of the night went smoothly. We even got the diner cleaned in record time, so we were all getting out early. I stepped out the back door into the cold and wrapped my sweater around me, preparing for the long walk home.

“Do you need a ride?” Damon asked me as he stepped outside. I almost turned him down but decided a warm car was far too appealing.

“Sure.” I said.

I followed him around to the front as Kayla was locking the back door. He drove an old red Camaro, but it was well taken care of, so it still appeared nice.

“Where do you live?” He asked me when I slid into the passenger’s seat.

“Mansfield Street.” I told him, and he began driving. He flipped on the radio and a Metallica song came on.

“Do you like them?” He asked me.

“Yeah, Enter Sandman is one of my favorite songs.” I answered.

“Mine, too.” He smiled.

“That’s my house.” I pointed it out as we got closer.

“Oh. I didn’t realize you lived with Bill and Judy.” He sounded taken aback.

“How do you know Bill and Judy?” I asked, surprised.

“I lived with them six years ago. I was only there for maybe two months.” He informed me.

“I didn’t know you were a foster kid.” My eyebrows flew up.

“Back at you.” He chewed his bottom lip near his lip ring. “Listen, I know how awful it can get there. If you need a place to stay or anything, just call me.” He handed me a piece of paper he’d scribbled his number on.

“Okay, thanks.” I smiled appreciatively. “So, where did you go after you left Bill and Judy’s? I mean, you were still in Waverly, I’m assuming.”

“There’s another foster home on Montrose Court. It was a little better than here.” He gave a tight smile.

“But they are never really good, are they?” I pursed my lips, already knowing the answer.

“No they aren’t.” His tone held a deep understanding.

“Do you still live there?” I asked.

“No, I live in the apartments on Thirty-Seventh Street.” He told me. “I moved out as soon as I turned seventeen.”

“But you stuck around Waverly?” I asked.

“Yeah, I like my jobs and friends here.”

“Oh.” I paused in silent thought. “I guess I’ll see you later. Thanks for the ride.” I told him as I got out of the car.

As I strolled up the driveway to my house, I thought of how terrific it was to talk to someone who survived foster care. It gave me a form of hope that there was actually a light at the end of this dreadful tunnel. My seventeenth birthday was months away, but it seemed like an eternity. My chest felt warm as I recalled Damon’s offer.

I unlocked the front door to a spotless living room, which could only mean one thing.

“There’s an inspection tomorrow. Make sure your room and the bathroom are pristine.” Judy barked, coming out of her bedroom after hearing the door. “And I need your tips from tonight.” She held out her hand.

“What? No. We need that for food.” I argued. The assault was abrupt and unexpected as Judy’s hand made contact with the side of my face.

“Don’t sass me. I am
not
going to ask you, again.” She warned. Irritated, I yanked the wad of ones out of my bag and handed them to her. “You need to come straight home from school tomorrow. Do not be late.”

I stomped off to my room to clean. Clarissa had most of it done by the time I got there. I started folding the clean clothes that had been piled in the basket.

“Hey, Clarissa, you were here six years ago, right?” I asked her, grabbing a shirt.

“Yeah, I’ve been living here for seven years. Why?”

“Do you remember a guy named Damon?” I grabbed a pair of pants from the basket.

“Yeah I remember him.”

“Why was he only here for a couple of months? What happened?” I asked her.

“He got in a fist fight with Bill. They kicked him out.” She answered quietly.

“What? Why?” I pried. Her expression became guarded.

“Well, no one told you this, but,” she paused, glancing away from me, “Bill used to get real handsy with the girls when he got drunk.” She admitted. I was shocked. I had no idea. I thought I’d finally found a foster home that didn’t have those issues. Foster Care Tip #3: Just because you do not see it happening, does not mean that it isn’t. She continued, “There was this one girl living here at the time. Her name was Linda. Bill was trying to mess with her one night. Damon intervened, but of course, he was the one punished, not Bill. Before Damon left, he told Bill he’d kill him if he found out he did anything to anyone else. I guess it scared Bill enough to not do it again because he hasn’t since.”