Crave - Teresa Mummert Page 0,10

chest heaving in fear but I refused to back down. He raised his hands up in mock surrender as he and his friends laughed.

“Don’t fucking touch me, zombie,” I seethed as I turned back around to take my shot, hating that my hands shook.

“Actually, we’re not zombies, friend.” Grabbing the back end of my cue stick, the smile returned to his face.

“Dead is dead and I’m not your friend.” Throwing my cue onto the table, I walking out. I refused to show them any fear, they thrived on it.

I couldn’t take being here anymore. I stomped out toward my car, grabbing a cigarette from my purse, inhaling deeply as I lit it. My gaze found a shiny black muscle car parked several spaces from mine with a driver in the seat. It was exactly the kind of car my father used to drool over when I was little. I narrowed my gaze as I took in the dark haired man in the driver seat, his face obscured by the reflection of the street light on the glass.

“Eva,” Grayson called out as he got out of the car and walked over to greet me.

“Shit,” I mumbled under my breath. I jumped at the unexpected sound of his voice.

“What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you. I thought maybe we could talk.”

“I was just leaving.” Glancing back over my shoulder at the dilapidated building, I took another drag from my cigarette. He finally broke the silence as I opened my car door.

“Want some company?” He asked with forced enthusiasm.

“I think I’m just gonna go home and take a bath. It’s been a long day at work.” I was trying my best to look tired so he wouldn’t press the issue. It wasn’t hard after the day I had.

“Sure, no problem.” He placed his hand on my car door as I slid inside. “Have a safe trip. Call me.” He stared at me as the engine roared to life and an old rock ballad blared over the speakers.

“Sure thing,” I called back over the noise and shifted into drive as he pushed the door closed. I pulled out looking at Grayson through my rearview mirror. I had always thought he was the one. It was disappointing to learn that such things didn’t exist. Only in fairytales. Then I remembering that things such as vampires were all too real. Life was cruel.

CHAPTER FOUR

sacrificial lambs

I headed down the back roads toward home. I couldn’t get Grayson off of my mind. I felt awful for hurting him, even though we would have never worked out. My mind wandered to Elijah. I wondered if he would come around again. I hoped he would.

I turned onto Church Street with a new attitude. There was more to life outside of this small town. I had tasted it and I wanted more. I immediately went to my room to change out of my work clothes that smelled of coffee and sweat. I grabbed a pair of jean shorts and a tank headed into the bathroom as I thought of him while turning on the water and let the tub fill. My cell phone began to ring from my bedroom. I ran down the hall to see who it was. The caller I.D. showed Grayson. I set the phone back down on the dresser and walked back to the bathroom, lowering myself into the tub without answering. I felt like I finally had the courage to stop running back to Grayson whenever he flashed me a smile. It was only prolonging his pain. He wanted forever, and I knew our futures were no longer guaranteed.

I thought about the vampires at the pool hall and then those who had killed my brother. Three of them had been caught immediately, but their leader had avoided capture. Many doubted whether the ones found were even involved or if they were just sacrificial lambs to a higher power. I had my doubts as well. That is why I carried the gun. It had belonged to Marcus. If he had been carrying that night, perhaps he would still be around. I wouldn’t make the same mistake he had. He was caught off guard.

Most vampires have the ability to hide their true nature from humans, not making their secret known unless they deemed it necessary to get what they want. Or in the case of the pool hall assholes, they show their true colors for a good laugh. Most blended right in with the community, hiding