Consume my broken heart

Chapter 4

I'm dragging my feet to the cash desk, forcing a small smile to Nathalie. "What's wrong?" Nathalie asked with concern.

"It's nothing. That older man might think it's funny to play with me. Then he wants a donut, then he doesn't want one. Then he wants a brownie. Then his coffee isn't warm enough, which is ridiculous because I made it just one second ago." I explain to her and sigh hard.

"You know what, I'll take that table for now," Nathalie says patiently.

"No, it's fine. Your shift is done. Go home and enjoy your evening." I smile at her.

"Alright then. See you tomorrow." Nathalie answers brightly. I know Nathalie is dying to go to him since she still has some work to do in the new house she bought with the love of her life. Nathalie walks into the back, leaving me alone with mister grumpy.

I clean the counter with precision, far away in thought, when the doorbell rings, shows someone has entered the bakery. I glance at the entrance, but Nathalie brought attention to her when she basically threw herself in front of me. Startled, I let the cleaning cloth fall out of my hand on the floor.

I lower myself to the ground, Nathalie following my gesture."Did you see who came in? He's freaking hot. Grace, look at him!" She whisper-yells in my ear with too much enthusiasm.

"Weren't you engaged?" I ask her playfully.

"Yes, but a girl can look, right?" She winks, teasingly. I roll with my eyes and crawl back up, tossing the cleaning clot into the bucket with water and soap. "Have fun serving!!" Nathalie whispered in my ear before vanishing out of the bakery with swaying hips. This girl is almost equally bad as my sister with her flirting skills.

I turn my gaze to the man that was sitting with his back toward me. I'm not sure why she's all WHOO with the guy. From where I was standing, I could only see he has dark brown hair, cut very short. He was wearing a leather jacket, not uncommon for a guy. My view got blocked by the old man grinning at me. "Here, young girl, a nice tip. But if I may give you some advice. Work on your concentration and you'll be a fine server." The man says boldly before strolling out of the bakery.

I stood there with my mouth open in utter shock. Is he for real? That man has dementia for sure. He was the one asking for different things constantly. He better gave me a gold medal for my patience. I take the five-dollar bill and put it into the jar under the desk.

I exhale loudly and take my little notebook and pen with me. Stopping at a distance, I ask in a friendly way, "Good evening, did you want to order something?"

"I want two chocolate chips and a black coffee." The man spoke calmly, his face fixated at the glass window in front of him. Okay, not making eye contact is rude, but I can live with distance. "

"Okay," I answer politely, before walking back to the counter. I don't know what's with him, but he gives me an odd feeling in my stomach. It's certainly not because of his looks. I'm not that shallow anymore that I only look at the outside of a person, but the inside counts to me. Maybe because a young man is here alone with me. Nathalie has made a fuss over nothing. Now I'm overstressed about nothing. He's just a customer like everyone else and nothing more, I assure myself, to keep calm. Hopefully, that hour will be over soon because I'm tired and just want a nice shower before heading off to bed.

I place everything on a platter before I make my way toward the man. "Here's your coffee and chocolate chips," I say, gently placing everything on the table in front of him.

"Thanks," the man spoke friendly, and I couldn't restrain myself to peek under my lashes to his face. I had to know why Nathalie gushed about his exterior. At that moment, I stop breathing when I notice the scar that went straight through his eyebrow. No, it can't be him... "Is there something wrong?" The man asks with raised eyebrows, a curious expression on his face.

"Nooo, it's nothing." I stammer and my feet drag me back behind the counter at a safe distance from the man. What the hell??? I'm so freaking out right now...What if it's him? He did no wrong to me, but that incident a few blocks away. Him wearing a gun at that exact moment. What do I have to do now? I glance at him and he's drinking from his coffee, enjoying his view.

I swallow hard and reach for my purse that was underneath the cash desk. I lower myself and rummage through my purse, desperately searching for my phone. Sighing in relief, I push my secret code onto the screen. I bite my lip nervously and dial 911. What will I say? I don't even know if he was involved.

"What will you say to them if they ask what you did that night, all alone in that alley?" I hear his voice very close and bury my phone inside my pocket. I lean against the wall behind me, my eyes growing wide in fear. I swallow the lump away that was forming in my throat. "I wasn't ..." My voice cracked uncontrollably.

"A coward and a liar." The man spoke calmly, not revealing any emotion on his face.

"I'm not a cowarrddddd!" I whisper-yell at him. The anger that was boiling inside of me wanted to be free. He insulted me that night, and now he's here insulting me again.

"Apparently, you became smarter after our talk, but I had to see it with my own eyes. Is your decision final or is it just postponed?" The man asked boldly, watching me intently.

"That's none of your business." I hiss angrily.

"It became my business when you had almost interfered my work with your stupid suicide attempt." He says in annoyance and glares at me.

"Your work?! You mean your mission to murder that poor man!!!" I yell at him. Now that was out of my mouth. My legs became weaker, and I had trouble holding my bearings against his dominant stare. Is he going to kill me now, he knows I'm a potential witness?

"Poor man?" He chuckles, a wide grin spreading on his face. "Do you think a man that raped several young girls in his neighborhood is innocent?" He asks in anger. His height towering above me. Luckily, he kept his distance. The cash desk was the only thing that separated us at the moment.

I swallow hard and look at the ground. No, a man that raped girls isn't innocent at all. Did he deserve to die? Probably yes...but this is fucked up. "That's what I thought. The papers wright what they want, and he was far from innocent. So I dealt with him because he deserved it." The man spoke now calmer and with more control.

He's a killer, just like I thought. I knew I had to follow my gut feeling. He's a dangerous man. Who knows what he will do with me now I know the truth. I swallow silently and peek under my lashes in the direction where he's standing, trying to figure out what his next move will be, but he was already gone and sitting back at his table, sipping from his coffee as nothing has happened. Like he never confessed a murder to a total stranger.