Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79349 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79349 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
I’ll have to be patient and see if she relaxes over the next few days. Maybe she just needs to get used to seeing me around.
I let out another heavy sigh because patience is not a virtue I’ve mastered.
Chapter 5
JENNA
Five minutes after Mr. Cahoon leaves, I hear engines rumbling, and my eyes snap to the road.
When a whole group of bikes pulls into the gas station, my heartbeat sets off at a wild pace, hammering against my ribs. My breaths speed up, and I freeze where I’m sitting, my wide gaze locked on the men.
I watch as Derek lights a cigarette, then he laughs at something Wayne says, and when Kirk joins them and they begin to walk toward the store, my body chills, and dread pours through my soul.
No. Go away.
I’m a trembling mess by the time the three men enter the store, and while Kirk and Derek go to the fridges, Wayne stops at the counter and smiles at me.
“How’s my favorite cunt? Missed me?”
My breaths saw audibly over my dry lips as I wrap my arms around my middle while ducking my head low and curling my shoulders forward.
They all start to laugh, and when Wayne’s fingers brush against my arm, I yank backward and collide with the shelves behind me.
Not caring about the store, I run to the end of the counter and through the room where everything is stored, and into the small toilet. I slam the door shut and quickly lock it, then brace my hands against the door in case they try to kick it down.
“Oh, come on, sweet cheeks. Don’t ruin the fun,” I hear Wayne shout while it sounds like they're trashing the store.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are, little whore,” Derek calls out. “Or I’ll huff and I’ll puff.”
“The bitch is the one who should be huffing and puffing on our dicks,” Kirks says before laughing loudly.
Eventually, the noise dies down, then I hear the bikes start and their engines rumbling as they drive away.
Slowly, I unlock the door and pull it open until I’m able to peek through a slit, and not seeing anyone, I cautiously creep out of my hiding spot.
When I step into the doorway between the store and the storage room, I still don’t see anyone. I take in the mess, packets of candy, chips, and cookies lying scattered all over the floor.
I glance at the counter and see a few dollars lying near my phone.
At least they didn’t take my phone.
Feeling completely rattled, I begin to clean up.
“What happened?” Mr. Oliveira suddenly asks right behind me, scaring the crap out of me.
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 lands on 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.