MAYHEM

Four

Valentina was pacing her apartment floor, wondering what she should do.

Nobody told her she couldn't go out. But she was questioning everything she did at this point. She had officially gone stir crazy. It'd been a couple days with no work, no visits, no errands. Just her, her cat, and an empty apartment. This was insane—her life couldn't be put on hold because of her father. Not again.

Butcher had given brief text responses to any questions, other times not answering at all. But what she could immediately tell was that he was strict, similar to what she could only imagine a drill sergeant was. He even advised her against checking her mail until he got the camera installed.

It had been three days, and she was going to starve. She was down to a can of Pringles.

Valentina was in desperate need of groceries, and her small town barely outside the city had a market just around the block. She didn't want to ask Butcher the question she already knew the answer to.

It's just around the block. She shrugged and ignored Ziggy staring at her. "It'll be fine. I'll be quick."

That's how she ended up with a shopping cart filled with her favorite groceries and many other comfort foods.

Her head tilted while examining strawberries. Which ones would she like more...?

Going down her grocery list, she was almost positive she got everything checked. When she was double-checking, she saw her phone light up. Her brow furrowed—no one ever called her. Picking it up she saw two missed calls from Butcher and another ringing through right now.

Her eyes widened and she answered immediately, "Where's the fire?" she asked with surprise.

"Where the fuck are you?"

Her lips jutted out at his attitude. "At the market. How did you—"

"You're supposed to fucking tell me when you leave, goddamnit! I can't babysit you when you do shit like this. Don't move for shit, Valentina," Butcher barked through the speaker.

Her lips parted to speak up for herself but the call went dead. Valentina pulled away in surprise. She blinked once, then twice. Panic settled in her chest, head swiveling around as if Butcher were going to pop out of the woodwork.

"Maybe...maybe I can hide...?" she muttered to herself. Her head was on a swivel for something to duck behind.

It took her a few moments to restart, forcing herself to roll over to the checkout aisle. Sniffling quietly, she helped the cashier out by setting up all her food. He was young, eyeing the food and the obviously unhappy woman with a pout on her full lips.

"These are my mom's favorites," he offered politely as he scanned the chocolate-covered strawberries.

Valentina grinned a little as she took over bagging. "I used to make them homemade, melted the chocolate myself and everything. Now I don't have the time anymore." She recalled the mess in the kitchen left behind at her grandmother's home.

"My mom would be jealous—she's been banned from the kitchen. My dad is the cook between the two. Every time she cooks, somehow the plastic gets melted onto the stove. Doesn't matter what she's making." The kid—Josh as his name tag read—shook his head as if in disbelief.

Valentina snorted at the story, fully smiling. "Sounds like my brother. I don't know how they survive, honestly."

"They get lucky to have people like you and my dad who can cook, obviously." Josh smirked a little with a wink.

"Obviously," she nodded. It was amusing to have a teenager send her such a flirtatious look. She chuckled a little—the confidence was out of this world.