Water’s Edge (A Series of Sharp Edges #1)

14. Mattie

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

mattie

T he door slams shut behind me, causing me to jump at the sudden noise. Tally breezes in and hangs her purse and jacket up on the coat rack next to the bar’s back door. Wiley calls it the “employee entrance,” but besides the three of us, there’s only a cook who sometimes comes to help on the weekends.

“Lawd have mercy, Mattie,” Tally shrieks. “Aren’t you getting any sleep?” I laugh a little under my breath. The last thing any god has for me is mercy, and I definitely can’t sleep when I’m haunted by nightmares each night. Every time I close my eyes, I see shadows creep out, threatening to strangle me, crush me under their wave of darkness.

I sigh and stare down into the sink, looking into the soapy water I’m using to wash dishes. “I look that bad, huh?” I certainly feel that bad. It has been too long now since my stranger left me shattered and alone to pick up the pieces. I’m not sure why I care so much about him, or why I’m so desperate to see him again. I subconsciously clutch the vile hanging from myneck.

Tally tsks at me, bumping me out of the way with her hip so she can take over. “Go sit, sugar,” she orders, pointing one press-on red nail towards the break table.

I pour myself a stale cup of coffee before I sit. It has been on the burner since this morning, but at least it’s warm—and caffeinated. Once I sit, I realize just how tired I really am. The harsh light from the fluorescent bulbs stings my eyes, and my entire body sags to lean on the table.

“Spill it,” Tally says, raising an eyebrow at me before turning back to the soapy water.

“I don’t know, Tally,” I sigh, defeated. “I just feel off. I have for days, and when I finally do fall asleep, I’m trapped in recurring nightmares.”

“Hmmm.” Tally puckers her lips in thought. “Tell me about the nightmares,” she says, not looking back up from her busy hands.

“I’m in the woods, screaming a name,” I tell her, closing my eyes so I can imagine it just the way I see it every night. “But the funny thing is, I don’t know what name I’m yelling, even though I know I’m screaming the same one every night. I’m running and screaming until eventually, shadows appear from the trees and just swallow me whole.”

Tally taps her foot and lets out another hum. “How much did your mama tell you about these woods?”

“I mean, I grew up in them. I live in the same damn cabin I was born in,” I say, yawning out the last few words. Tally shoots me a wide-eyed glance like I’ve grown a second head.

“Oh Mattie, no wonder.” She shakes her head like my upbringing suddenly explains everything. She doesn’t even know the half of it, but hearing I’m from the Hellsmouth woods tells her everything she apparently needs to know.

I grimace and look down into my coffee. Being treated differently because I’ve always lived well below the poverty line is nothing new to me, but it stings more coming from Tally. She can’t be much better off than me, but apparently, I’m still worth pitying.

“There’s boogers in those woods, Mattie. There’s story after story of people going missin’, windin’ up dead, seein’ all sorts of unnatural creatures.” Her eyes tell me she’s serious. She really believes all the stories that come from the woods. “The Appalachians are older than the bones. What did ya reckon you’d find out there?”

I nod my head. I’ve heard all the stories too. My ma warned me repeatedly about all the rules I had to follow to keep from bringing anything home with me, rules I had to follow to make it home. All her stories and rules just made me wonder why Hellsmouth couldn’t swallow up my pa instead. He was the only monster lurking out there in the dark.

“Those are just children’s whoppers, Tally. They’re meant to scare little kids into gittin’ home before dark,” I scoff, brushing her off while trying to swallow the lump in my throat. I’ve heard the voices in the woods, felt the presence of something I couldn’t see or explain. There was also something itching at the corner of my mind about the stranger from the bar and the vial he’d left me. Somehow, I knew it all connected to my recurring dreams.

Wiley pops his head through the swinging door separating the small kitchen from the bar area, causing both of us to jump. “Alright ladies, enough chit-chatting. Git on out there. Folks are startin’ to wander.”

Tally and I look at each other and barely keep from cracking up. Wiley’s sass lightens up the adrenaline from scaring ourselves. We both grab a tray of glassware and head to our usual spots behind the bar. Wiley is right. There are already five people lined up on the stools with their first round in front of them. I say a silent thanks to Wiley and then take mental notes of what everyone’s poison is tonight.

Even though I’m exhausted, I manage to get into my serving flow easily. The crowd is a little rowdier than usual, and there’s a tension in the air I can’t place, but the bar stays lively as someone starts a song on the jukebox as soon as one finishes.

A larger man, with blond hair slicked back under his backward baseball cap, sits at the end of the bar. He’s loudly making raunchy jokes and slapping the back of the guy beside him. Based on the empty glassware in front of him, he has had several beers and multiple shots of tequila already. Yet, he slams down his empty glass on the bar like he’s dying of thirst.

My eyes narrow, and rage tightens in my chest. A familiar fire spreads through my veins. I’ve been too preoccupied with all the newfound weirdness in my life to satiate the one itch I always need to scratch. I haven’t brought anyone down to Devil’s Pool since hearing the voice in the woods, since bringing my stranger home. Now, the need is boiling over like a pot I forgot to watch on the stove.

“Hey baby,” he bellows. “How ‘bout you git me another beer? My glass is just full of air.” A lop-sided smile and a belch follow the words. My nose crinkles, and my response rises in my throat like bile.

“How ‘bout you pay your tab and get the fuck out of here?” I snarl. Multiple heads turn in my direction, and Tally is moving past me before I can head down to the end of the bar.

“Don’t mind her none,” Tally soothes. Her voice is soft and submissive. “This one here’s on me.” He grins at her, eyes glassy. His tongue traces his bottom lip sinisterly before taking a sip of his freshly poured beer.

“I don’t mind girls like her anyhow,” he laughs. “I just want her to git on it and pour me another beer.” His eyes shift from Tally’s tits to mine. “Maybe I should take her out back and remind her what she’s good for.”

I want to strangle the life out of him, right here, right now. I imagine launching myself over the bar, breaking his empty glass over his head, and slitting his throat with a jagged piece of it. I can feel the warmth of his blood on my hands. My nostrils fill with the metallic tang of his blood spilling onto the floor.

My mouth pulls up in a tight smile, and fear flashes through Tally’s eyes. Before I can take a step, she’s pushing me back towards the kitchen door. “What has gotten into you?” she chastises. Nothing has gotten into me, though. I’m just too tired to keep my mask up.

“Sorry, Tally,” I apologize. “I’m just beat.” She raises an eyebrow at me suspiciously but seems to believe me.

“The sun don’t always shine on the same dog, sugar.” She smiles then and brushes a strand of hair out of my face. “Why don’t we switch sides? I’ll handle the drunk asshole.”

“Thanks,” I sigh and try to return her smile. She gives me a playful push, and we head back out to the front.

I plaster a pleasant look back on my face and let Tally’s customers know I’ll be taking care of them for the rest of the night. I let myself get lost in the mindlessness of refilling drinks and wiping off the bar top, because now, I have something to look forward to. I glance over at the drunk. He’s eyeballing Tally and groping her each time she has to come around the bar to serve a booth. I breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth, trying to ground myself and not give in too soon. I’m going to kill that asshole tonight and make him regret every disgusting word he has ever uttered.

I picture how he’ll look, blue and lifeless, floating down to the bottom of the lake. He doesn’t know he’s drinking the last beers he’ll ever taste. All I have to do now is wait.

The hours tick by, slowly, but eventually, he gets up from his stool and slurs out a goodbye to whoever is listening. He stumbles out the door, alone, and I have to make my move now. He can wait unconscious in my car until I close the bar.

“Tally, I’m going to grab some fresh air. I’ll be right back and help you close up,” I call to her as I dash out the back. She gives me a mumbled response and a quick wave.

My heart pounds in my ear, each breath heavy in my chest as I make my way around to the parking lot. The humid air is as thick as my need to stab my knife into this asshole’s gut. I close my eyes and exhale slowly, steadying myself to pounce, but when I look around the corner, the parking lot is empty. The only noise is faint music trickling out from underneath the front door. There’s no engine rumbling, no crunch from the gravel as someone walks to their car. I’m out here alone.

A savage, bloodcurdling howl echoes in the distance, reminding me that creatures hungrier than me lurk in Hellsmouth. I shudder and pull my arms around my waist, quickly stepping back into the roadhouse. “Damn,” I whisper. I’ll have to find someone else to play with.