The angry Kytten.
The damaged Kytten.
I slid the knife against my leg, tracing the vine tattoo that wound around my thigh. The roses and the thorns. When the blood appeared, I smeared it into my skin.
The monsters screamed.
And I fell asleep.
“Aren’t you just the cutest little thing!”
Those were words I heard often, and when I heard them as I stepped into the bakery, I plastered the smile on my face like I always did.
Never let ‘em see you sweat, right?
“Good morning,” I returned in my sickly-sweet voice. I had perfected it over the years.
I’d had to.
People saw the tiny little woman with the pink hair and tattoos and expected a pixie. So I gave them the pixie.
“My name’s Trudy. What can I get you?”
“Hmmm,” I hummed as I perused the bakery case. “It all looks delicious.”
“Because it is.” Trudy winked when my eyes caught hers. She was older, maybe in her seventies. She had a warm smile. A genuine smile. A grandma smile. It shone through her eyes, like a beacon calling you home.
“How about a bear claw and a coffee?”
“You got it.” She rang it up and when I gave her the money, she instructed, “Have a seat and I’ll bring it out.”
She bustled around and made the coffee, setting it on the counter while she dashed through the swinging doors into the back.
I stared at the coffee, wondering if I should get up and grab it, when Trudy came bustling back with a plate.
“I warmed it up for you.” She smiled and set the plate and coffee in front of me.
She wasn’t gone long before she was sitting at the table opposite me with her own coffee and a cinnamon roll.
“You’re new in town.” It wasn’t said as a question, but it was definitely a question.
“I am. Just passing through.”
“You’re pretty young to be passing through. Where do you call home?”
I took a sip of my coffee, stalling. I wasn’t sure what the third degree was about, but I wasn’t telling this woman where I came from.
“Tennessee.”
“What brings you out here?” Trudy asked. I couldn’t help but answer. There was something about this woman that just made me open up. She reminded me a little of Val.
“Traveling the country. I took a year off college for some real-world experience,” I lied and took a bite of the bear claw. I had plenty of real-world experience. More than I should.
“That sounds like fun. How many states have you seen?” she asked, and I wondered how long she would sit here with me.
“Um, I think about half now.” The sound of motorcycles had me glancing out the window. I recognized his bike right away. The man I met on the mountain.
Well, met might not be the right word. We didn’t exchange names or even pleasantries when we spoke. It wasn’t anything like meeting Trudy.
