than that so there’s food in the house when Killer gets home. I want to make him dinner for everything he’s done to help me. Even if I’m still mad at him for costing me my job at Naughty Peach. It may not have been the right job for me, but he never once gave me the chance to explore it.
As I walk up and down each aisle, I grab what I want in the house. The one thing I make sure to do is get what I know Killer really likes. Including the soda he drinks every once in a while, and the brand of coffee and creamer he likes. There’s also a ton of meat because that’s his go to for any meal. Including breakfast. If he could eat steak and eggs every morning, I’m sure he would. Not me.
I also make sure to grab some feminine products while I’m here since I can’t remember if I have many left or not. If I’d checked it before leaving the house, I’d know. Oh well.
Once the cart is loaded to the point I’m not sure if I’ll make it to the checkout line, I head to the front of the store. As I begin making my way there, I get the feeling someone is watching me. A tremor runs down my back as I frantically look around at everyone surrounding me. It feels as if there’s one person on top of another. Not a single person stands out to me though.
Walking forward, the feeling gets more intense. My eyes never once stop looking around the store. I know it’s not Rich or anyone from the club because they’d come up to me and let me know they’re here. After what I’ve been through, they wouldn’t intentionally try to scare the crap out of me. No, someone is following me, but I don’t know who it is. They’re good at hiding in plain sight. That only means it can be a handful of people. These are the men who worked for my father, my father, or Neil. Anyone else wouldn’t be as covert as those assholes are.
When I get to the closest line open, I get in line. Pretending to look around as if I want to make sure I haven’t forgotten anything. Still no one stands out to me. Frustration is filling me to capacity as fear and anger rush through my body. I thought I was past feeling this way, that someone is out to get me. Or pain, torture, and taunts are going to come flying out of left field at me. That’s the only reason for the frustration filling me. I don’t want to feel these things anymore. I want to live my life and move forward from the past that’s held me back for so long.
The second I’m the only other person in line, I place the separator bar between the orders and begin to set my things on the belt. I’m in a rush to get out of here and back to the relative safety of my car. Hopefully, Rich will help me load up the groceries so we can get outta here faster. Then, once I’m home, I’ll be able to relax. At least that’s my hope. If not, maybe I’ll go to Kim and Fox’s house instead. Fox will be there and I’ll be able to hang out with my sister. I wouldn’t impose and stay there overnight, but for a few hours I’d be able to feel safe.
Unfortunately, I chose the wrong cashier today. She’s slower than molasses in the winter. I swear. She picks up each item, inspects it, and then scans it before placing it in the bag. I’m ready to tell her I’ll bag the damn things because it would take less time, and more than one item would be in each bag. I’d like to say she’s new and doesn’t know much better, that’s not the case though. This particular cashier has been here a while now. I’ve had her before and it’s never been like this. Usually she wants to get the customers out of her line as quickly as possible.
Whatever the reason may be today, I don’t want to wait around and find out what her problem is. I simply want to get my things rung out so I can get the hell out of here. Before I can say a word, the customer behind me speaks up.