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Mr. Dangerous

Page 6

by Alexis Gold


  She had a wonderful time and felt as though she were on cloud nine, floating through the kitchen like a princess who successfully courted a prince. Despite her happiness, she had a sinking feeling in her stomach that something was wrong, since Mason had not come to work yet. Perhaps he was angry with her or regretted the previous night. Then again, her paranoia could have been due to the strange nightmare she had as well.

  As she continued cooking, she suddenly heard a gasp from the diner. Peering out of the kitchen window, she witnessed a crowd of dining guests and staff members surrounding the television screen that hung up against the corner of the wall. The television was a recent addition to the café – a modern version of reading a newspaper with breakfast. The channel was always placed on a local news station, which came in handy during the winter when schools could be potentially closed due to snow storms.

  Typically the Rootsville news station featured mild theft arrests, wedding announcements, and feel-good stories about Good Samaritan acts of kindness. However, at that particular moment, she knew that something must have been terribly wrong.

  One of the waitresses, Gwen, appeared in the kitchen with her typically-perfect mascara now smudged around her eyelids as if she had been tearing up. Her hand, which still held a notepad from taking orders, was shaking. From outside of the kitchen, Jasmine heard more gasps and the sound of someone asking for a remote to turn up the volume.

  Gwen opened her mouth and closed it several times before finally choking out, “You should come see this.”

  “All right,” Jasmine agreed hesitantly as she slowly made her way out of the kitchen and into the diner among the dozens of people watching the television screen in horror. Images flashed of fire damage from a local restaurant. Video footage scanned the scene, showing the devastating wreckage. The once-beautiful building, an old-fashioned Italian-style eatery, lay crumbled in ashes on the ground.

  The camera panned and zoomed into the last remaining piece of the building, which was the restaurant’s sign, featuring the Italian flag against a deep emerald wood. On the sign, however, was a truly horrifying sentiment that elicited a gasp from Jasmine, causing her to cover her mouth. Etched and drawn with ashes, the shocking statement was written: “Burn as we have burned.”

  On the television screen, a woman in a sleek business suit looked visibly shaken as she prepared to give the report. Clearing her throat, she began, “Today, the town of Rootsville has witnessed a horrific tragedy. The Italian Grill has been demolished in flames by an unknown arsonist. Using several high-powered matches, the assailant is believed to be still at large. There have been no fatalities, though several staff members have reported burn injuries. It seems as though the perpetrator was attempting to gain attention; therefore, police do not believe the arsonist is a safety threat at this time. The department is, however, warning local business owners to remain extra cautious of those who enter each establishment.

  “Currently, our hard-working police officers are attempting to gather evidence and will continue to work hard to keep our town safe. Please do not attempt to capture these criminals on your own. If you have any information that could be helpful to the case, please contact the local police department. Thank you. Stay tuned to the news station for occasional updates regarding this devastating situation. For now, it’s time to tune into weather updates with meteorologist Bobby Remsen. Stay safe, Rootsville.”

  As the station turned to weather updates, the diner became silent. No one moved; no one spoke. Unlike the silence she experienced with Mason the night earlier, this silence was upsetting and loud. The quiet that overwhelmed The Morning Bell spoke volumes, as it was a quiet of fear and anxiety.

  Everyone wanted to speak and to voice his or her opinion, but was simply afraid. It was as if the silence was the only thing keeping the panic of the situation at bay. Jasmine knew that everyone needed someone to start the conversation to ease the fear, so she sighed. Dozens of heads, previously glued to the floor, turned toward her.

  “Well, how about we all sit back in our chairs and relax. Everyone gets a free cup of coffee on me. Children can have any juice for free as well,” she said with a gentle smile.

  Then, she disappeared into the kitchen and rested her back against the wall, shocked at the events she witnessed on the television. Thinking quickly, she grabbed her cell phone from her pocket and dialed her brother’s number to check to make sure he was okay. The phone rang several dials until eventually, he answered.

  “Jasmine?” Calvin asked, his voice full of concern – much to Jasmine’s surprise. “Are you doing okay? Did you see the news?”

  “Yes,” she said, equally concerned. “Are you okay? I know you were looking for job applications and I was just hoping that you weren’t in the area that burned.”

  “I was nearby, but thankfully I left before anything went down. Part of me wishes I had driven slower and possibly witnessed the person who did it, but I didn’t. Did you see the destruction? The whole Italian Grill is burnt to a crisp.”

  “Yeah, I saw,” she said, her voice numb in disbelief. “I’m hoping it was a one-time situation, but nothing like that has ever happened here before this. What if they target The Morning Bell next?”

  “They won’t.”

  “You don’t know that. Besides, why do you even care? I thought you hated me.”

  “I never hate you. I just…” he took in a deep breath, “I just feel really alone right now. That’s not your fault. None of this is your fault. I suppose it’s been getting to me that things will never be normal again and I have no one who understands that.”

  “Why don’t you call up your friend from the military? He sent letters for months after you came home. Maybe he’d be a good person to talk with about all of this.”

  “I can’t talk to him. What happened out there haunts me every day.” His voice cracked.

  “He was there with me so, it’s like he’s just a reminder of that.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said sympathetically. As angry as he made her, she knew that he was suffering and needed his big sister to forgive him and guide him.

  “Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault. I should have never taken my anger out on you. It was unfair and absolutely untrue. Can you ever forgive me?”

  “I’m your sister. Of course I forgive you,” she laughed. “Just don’t do it again.”

  “I won’t. I’m sorry,” he said sincerely before continuing. “Anyway, that news story was crazy, wasn’t it?”

  “Yeah, it was,” she sighed.

  She missed talking to her brother. The two spent several minutes speaking about the events that transpired over the television. Never once in her entire life had she ever experienced something so shocking and sad. Violent crime never happened in Rootsville; it simply didn’t exist.

  Even the other night when the thief entered The Morning Bell, she knew that he would never shoot because no one ever did. Of course, she had heard of violent crime occurring in other, more populated, towns. The problem with committing a crime in Rootsville is that everyone knows who everyone is – you couldn’t stay hidden for long.

  On the phone, Jasmine expressed her concerns about her diner, then briefly mentioned her date with the new chef who she said would, hopefully, keep her safe. Calvin seemed intrigued and wanted more details, but had to leave. He had an interview at a local car mechanic and he didn’t want to be late, as he stated that he truly did want this job to work out. She wished him good luck and then hung up, feeling happy that she and her brother were on better terms.

  She was not, however, feeling happy about the situation going on in Rootsville. She felt scared for the safety of The Morning Bell and the one person she counted on to protect her still had not shown up for work. She strolled over to the sink and stood over it, taking deep breaths to stay calm.

  Suddenly, she felt strong arms wrap around her stomach and a warm whisper in her ear that said, “So, you thought you could just sneak out on me in the morning, huh?


  Gasping, she turned around and clutched her hand to her heart. “You scared me. Why would you sneak up on me like that?”

  “I’m sorry.” Mason backed away with his hands up in defense. “I was just trying to surprise you. Why are you so jumpy?”

  “Why are you so late to work?” she snapped, then composed herself. “I didn’t mean to yell at you. I’m just nervous today. Didn’t you see the news?”

  His face suddenly became ashen, “What? What happened on the news?”

  She explained the events that transpired on the television, her voice slightly frantic in fear. His eyes flickered slightly with anxiety; he was very nervous about the situation. She wondered why he would be so terrified, as he had not grown up in the area and had probably dealt with crime in other cities.

  Perhaps he was simply worried about her. Although she didn’t want him to feel nervous, she was grateful that he was concerned, as she had – only moments earlier – feared that she may never have heard from him again. Although she did not mention her concerns, his eyes were intent as he studied her, knowing something else was bothering her besides the story on the news.

  “Hey, is something else wrong?” he questioned. Noticing her dismissive look, his face changed to a sudden realization. “Did you think I was avoiding you?”

  “Well, no,” she started, then continued with confidence. “Actually, yes. I, for one, thought we had a fantastic date last night and when you didn’t show up for work, it was quite concerning.”

  Mason’s face, which was previously attentive to her concerns, turned to stifle his laughter. He began chuckling and gave her a deep kiss on the mouth. When he pulled away, he said, “I didn’t have my alarm on because I had assumed we would leave for work together. I was unaware that you had different plans of leaving on your own.”

  She felt her cheeks redden. Looking back, she wasn’t entirely sure why she had decided to leave on her own rather than resting in bed with him. Perhaps she felt anxious being away from work or maybe her nightmare had spooked her from his arms. Whatever the case, she saw that he did not have any bad intentions – he simply overslept after a long night of passion, and now he was looking at her with that same look again.

  His eyes were full of love, just as the night before; yet, she noticed a twinge of something else. As loving as he looked at her, it was slightly tarnished by something going on in his mind. He seemed momentarily distracted by an internal monologue. She decided to brush it off.

  “I’m sorry I made such a big deal about you not showing up for work,” she said, embarrassed.

  “Don’t apologize. You’re the boss. I could definitely be fired right now.” He winked.

  “Who says I’m not still considering firing you, huh?” She winked back.

  “Because of this.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and brushed his nose against hers. Then, ever-so-slowly, he gave her a gentle kiss on the lips. She pressed her lips deeper on his, savoring his unique taste. The gentle hint of tobacco rested on his tongue, covered by a cool, minty flavor.

  He sucked in a shocked breath when her tongue danced around his, causing him to dip her with passion. Holding onto her leg gently, he slowly parted his lips from hers, then brought her back to standing. Breathlessly, she smiled lovingly at him.

  “Get to work,” she said as she took off her hairnet and put it on his head.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he saluted her and headed over to the grill.

  Later that evening, after closing up The Morning Bell and wishing Mason a “goodnight,” Jasmine sauntered up to her apartment with Abby close behind, who offered many thankful sentiments throughout the entirety of the evening. Proclaiming that she would sleep on the couch, much to Jasmine’s refusal, Abby raced into the living room and rested sideways on the couch, claiming that it was plenty comfortable.

  Jasmine hesitantly agreed, but only for the time-being until she could buy a small bed. The two newly-established roommates shared a tight hug. Then, Jasmine went to her bedroom and shut the door behind her.

  She flopped onto her bed and sighed. It had been a long several days, and now the added worry of a crime wave had her on edge. Thankfully, Calvin had checked in with her and told her that his interview with the mechanic went great. Apparently, he had a natural talent for fixing vehicles and was hired on the spot.

  He decided to start working the day he was hired and wouldn’t be home until late, as he wanted to make friends with his new coworkers. Jasmine was beyond excited to hear that he was doing better than before, and said a small “thank you” to the stars that aligned to allow for life to improve – even by a small margin. She yawned and closed her eyes, causing her to recall a moment she and her brother shared as children.

  “Jazzy? Where are you going?” A six-year-old Calvin ran after ten-year-old Jasmine, who was scoping out a strange sound she heard coming from the forest in the back of their home. She and her brother had been playing hide and seek in the yard, when Jasmine suddenly made her way toward the trees instead. The spring season bloomed a gorgeous array of bright and beautiful floral plants that let off soft scents – the sign of warmer weather to come. She stopped at a specific tree and looked up, squinting when the sunlight hit her eyelids.

  “Aren’t we kind of far from the house? Mommy may get mad if we are too far and she can’t see us,” Calvin exclaimed, nervously looking back toward the house.

  “It’ll be okay. This is very important. Lives are at stake, Calvin.” She looked at him and nodded seriously to gain his attention. She pointed up at a bird’s nest, which had been torn up slightly at the side. Then, he followed her pointing finger back down toward four small baby birds resting on the ground below the nest.

  “Whoa!” he yelped. “What happened to the birdies?”

  “They fell from the nest. We have to put them back up before the momma bird comes back so they can be fed.”

  “How are we going to do that?”

  She motioned for him to get down on his hands and knees, telling him that he would be a step-stool for her to reach a branch. If she could only reach the branch, she’d be able to climb up onto it and toward the bird’s nest. He complied, resting on all fours, and awaited her instructions. She reached over to the baby birds and scooped them up in her arms. She tucked her shirt into her pants, then plopped all four birds into her shirt as a carrying device. After giving a quick warning, she stepped onto Calvin’s back and jumped up to grab the branch – with success.

  “Are you okay, Cal?” she asked as she held on to the branch with one hand and her stomach full of birds with the other. She awaited his thumbs up of approval, which he gave as soon as he stood back up and brushed the dirt off of his hands. She smiled at him, then shimmied over toward the trunk.

  Wrapping her legs around the trunk, she checked to make sure the birds were secure, then climbed up the tree slowly. As she made her way closer to the bird’s nest, she lost her balance and nearly fell, letting out a slight yelp of panic.

  “Don’t fall!” her brother yelled up at her.

  She regained her composure and continued her climb. As she approached the nest, she kept her legs tightly secure on the tree trunk and scooped the baby birds out from her shirt one at a time. Reaching into the nest, she gently placed each baby bird into the nest and stacked the sticks back up to fix the hole from which they fell.

  Smiling with satisfaction, she slid back down the tree and jumped down onto her feet. Her adventure was a success, with only minor cuts, scrapes, and splinters on her hands from the roughness of the tree.

  “Wow!” Calvin said excitedly. “You’re a hero.”

  “You’re a hero, too. We were heroes together by saving the baby birds. Now they can live happily in their cozy nest.” She smiled.

  The two walked back to the backyard and toward their mother who stood on the patio looking very angry.

  “Where did you two think you were going?” her mother yelled, hands on her hips. Before Jasmine could explain, her
mother pulled her into the house and told her she was grounded for being a bad influence on her brother and straying too far from the house.

  “But, Mommy, Jazzy was being a hero!” Calvin defended her.

  “Well, sometimes being a hero isn’t the right thing to do,” her mother explained.

  Jasmine didn’t care what her mother said, however, because she still saved the birds – that was all that mattered.

  Suddenly, her memory was disrupted by a loud “ping” sound which came from her laptop sitting open on her desk. She wondered who would be sending her an instant message, as she usually only used it to communicate with old high school friends and family members such as her parents down in Florida.

 

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