Page 8 of Smoke
“More,” she said.
“There is no way it needs any more. You’re going to have a bellyache and twenty-seven cavities,” I argued.
She grinned. “But my heart has a sad and the syrup will make it all better,” she said, batting her long lashes at me.
Tossing my head back, I laughed, thankful she was slowly coming back to me after such a shock. “You little brat.” I was pretty sure I was seeing a small peek of the Little she kept denying she had.
She opened her mouth and I fed her another bite. I was happy to see her tears were starting to dry up.
“It is really good. Do you want a bite, Dawson?”
“No thanks, baby. This much sugar would give me indigestion for the rest of the month.”
“Cause you’re so old?”
“You are being such a stinker today!”
She rested her head on my chest for a minute before taking her fork from me.
“You need to eat too. You’ll need all your strength to deal with Bash and a drill today.”
A new waitress came over and refilled my coffee.
“You’ll need lots of that too,” Ashley said, nodding toward my coffee.
“I will,” I agreed. “The last time Bash tried to fix something, he flooded the bathroom at the shop so badly, we had to close for two days.”
She laughed so hard she snorted. “That’s so terrible.”
We sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes before she spoke again, “Dawson?”
“Yeah, baby?”
“Thank you for protecting me today and for making me feel better.”
“I will never forgive myself for not being there to protect you when you were hurt, but I’ll do my damndest to make sure I’m here for anything else you may face,” I promised her.
***
Ashley
I set the pink donuts on the counter and grabbed the jar of sprinkles. Making the donuts pretty was my favorite part of the job. I shook the container and smiled when all the tiny flakes of happiness poured out. My favorite was when we did themed days and I got to use icing bags and tips to decorate donuts.
Picking up the tray, I walked to the display case and started arranging them in their slot.
“Those are so pretty,” a familiar voice said. The voice made my stomach churn and my skin crawl. I shivered at the sensation of spiders crawling on me.
I looked up and into the dilated eyes of my mother.
“Hey, Ashley, baby,” she said. Her skin was pale, her brow sweaty, and her face bruised around her mouth. “Can we talk?”
“No,” I said, pulling the tray back and walking away from the counter. “You aren’t supposed to be here,” I called over my shoulder, trying to sound calmer than I felt.
“It’s really important, Ashley!” she yelled from where she was still standing.
My heart pounded so loudly in my chest that I worried my co-workers would be able to hear it.
“Ashley, is everything okay?” my boss, Edison, asked me. His face was blurred and it was hard to hear him over the blood rushing in my ears.
