A Sweet Man - Jaime Reese Page 0,17

he was a young boy and the excitement was almost too much to contain.

“Before we do anything, we need to set you up to take the online course today for the food handler license you’ll need. I believe there’s a text-only option, but I’ll double-check. It’ll take about two hours, but you need to have that license before you can tackle any prep work.”

He nodded and smiled as Natalie outlined a typical workday schedule. She would arrive at her usual early morning hours to prepare the items for the morning rush. While she manned the store opening and morning crowd, he would help with the prep work for the afternoon baking. She would start him off with the basics. Then, add in tips and techniques until he could handle some of the items on his own. Afternoons were reserved for any required cleanup and preparation so that she could start the process all over again the next day before dawn without delays.

She promised to teach him.

He promised to absorb every lesson.

For the first time in a long time, a grin dug into his cheeks for so long they ached.

Ben pulled the pillow under his head, hoping sleep would come. After only a handful of days on the job, his excitement to learn more grew with each new task and responsibility. Natalie pushed him to work harder, learn more, and practice. He couldn’t wait to find out which new technique Natalie would show him next week. In addition to her lessons, she brought in a few baking books for him to read. In the afternoons, she would let him practice, both her recipes and ones he had read.

He read every page of every book. Absorbed them. Bookmarked pages and added sticky notes with comments. He wished he could access the Internet on his phone, but that went against the rules. Instead, Matt let him borrow the laptop and oven, fueling his eagerness to explore and experiment with combining different ingredients.

Natalie had told him he was a natural. Matt was excited Ben had found his calling, and Julian was thrilled Ben brought leftover goodies to satisfy his sweet tooth. He had finally found something he loved doing. If only he could get some sleep, the night wouldn’t drag so much and he could do it all over again tomorrow. He turned again and pulled up the sheets, tucking them under his chin. He took a deep breath and then exhaled, trying to cleanse his mind of lingering changes to recipes he wanted to try.

Finally relaxing, he took another breath, and then exhaled again, repeating until the tension left his body and sleep teased him.

A hand covered his mouth.

Breaking through the haze of sleep with jarring speed, he jolted in bed. Instinct drove his hands in the air, ready to strike.

A firm grip stopped his hands midair.

Am I dreaming?

Opening his eyes, he willed his vision to adjust to the darkness. His hands were thrust up above his head and hot breath blew across his neck as the weight of a body pinned him down. His heart thundered as the breath pushed through his nose with force. Writhing and bowing his body, he fought for the slightest inch of space. The grip on his hands tightened and the weight on him grew.

No, this was real.

A hint of light peeked through the slats of the blinds.

David.

Ben bent his knees, shifted, and tried kicking, needing to use every limb and twist of his body in defense. If he could reach his phone stashed under the pillow, he could call up the app with the bullhorn. He couldn’t hear it, but he knew everyone in the house would.

One second to escape. Another to grab his phone.

In the back of his mind, he sensed he didn’t have that much time.

He glanced over to the nightstand at his side as he pushed and struggled. Maybe he could reach something there, use it as a weapon on David or throw it at something. Anything to alert the others in the dead of night. His prior term at Halfway House had taught him Julian was a light sleeper. One loud sound was all he would need.

He roared under the palm covering his mouth. Screamed as loud as his lungs allowed. It didn’t matter what was said. All he needed was sound. He stole a glance over David’s shoulder. He whimpered at the shut door, something he never did. The thumping in his chest quickened, he would need to make a sound

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