I let out a shriek and scurry to the other side of the store, putting a row of shelves between us. When my wide gaze landson him, I see a dark frown forming on his forehead while a dangerous expression settles over his face.
He looks terrifying as he glances at the mess I still have to clean up, then his eyes flick to me. His voice is nothing but a low rumble as he asks, “What happened here, Jenna?”
I need to calm down. He’s my favorite customer, and I don’t want to freak him out.
I shake my head as I carefully move back to where the packets are lying on the floor, and as I continue to place everything back on the shelf, Mr. Oliveira doesn’t move and keeps looking at me.
“Can you talk?” he suddenly asks.
I nod, my hands trembling as I place the final packet in its place. Wrapping my arms around my middle, I bring my shoulders up as I head back to the counter, but as I come out of the aisle between the shelves, he places his hand on my shoulder. A whimper escapes me, and unable to stop myself, I dart for the exit and rush out of the store.
I suck in deep breaths of air, and when a sob bursts from me, I keep walking to the side of the building where I crouch down. I rest my forehead against my palm while doing my best to calm down.
Why did they have to come tonight?
I was looking forward to seeing Mr. Oliveira. The third time he came in, I grew a brain and looked for his name on his credit card.
Mr. E Oliveira.
Closing my eyes, I focus on taking deeper breaths, but then a shadow falls over me, and as my eyes pop open again, I see Mr. Oliveira crouching in front of me.
His expression isn’t as severe, and instead, he gives me a gentle look.
“Would you like me to take you home?” he asks.
I shake my head, and as I gather the courage to look at his face, my lips part, but I can’t make the words come out.
Tonight I wanted to say hi to him. Just hi. But then the bikers showed up, and three of my rapists had to taunt me.
Slowly, he reaches out to me, and I freeze. I don’t even take a breath as he gently places his palm against my cheek. He tilts his head, his golden-brown gaze staring deep into mine.
“If you need anything, you can ask me,” he murmurs.
I’ll never be able to do that. I feel my face growing warm as a blush creeps up my neck.
“And if you’re in trouble, I can help.”
No, he can’t. No one can help me.
I climb to my feet and walk back to the store, just as Muriel’s car turns into the gas station.
If I tell anyone about Wayne, Derek, and Kirk, they’ll kill me and the person I ask for help. The MC club has gotten away with murder before, and they’ll get away with it again.
I hurry to the cash register, and as Muriel comes into the store, I grab a box of cigarettes and place it on the worn wooden counter.
She glances around, then asks, “Where is the hot guy. That’s his SUV right?”
I glance out the windows, and seeing the dent on the back door, but no sign of Mr. Oliveira, I frown while shrugging at Muriel.
She places the cash down and picks up her cigarettes. “See you tomorrow.” When she leaves the store, she glances to her left, then comes to a stop. “Oh, hi there. I’ve seen you here a couple of times. Are you new in town?”
“You could say that,” Mr. Oliveira replies, then he appears right outside the window.
I stare at him as Muriel says, “A bunch of us are hanging out at a friend’s house. Want to come? It will be a great way to meet some of the folks in town.”
There’s a flash of annoyance on his face. “I’m not interested.” He comes into the store, not paying Muriel any further attention.
She shakes her head before she walks toward her sedan.
