Restraint

Chapter Two - Adeline

Present Time

Memories have a way of forging themselves into immortality. Especially ones that hold no more than that of hurt and pain.

When I was eight, I scarred my leg. Gouged it in three different places. I was climbing amongst the old oak that rested within the forest that encompassed my backyard. It was tall yet feeble. Branches weak as the trunk leaned low to the ground. A "danger" as most parents would call it, as mine once did. But in a fit of hysteria I had begged them to save it. For I knew of a small family of critters who had made the old oak their home. And due to my abundance of tears, both of them had agreed to save the rotting wood. Under one condition. 

Never climb the old oak or befriend the animals of residence. 

Simple enough. A foreboding warning that was repeated on multiple occasions. A warning I chose to ignore.  And so when the branch I rested on broke beneath my weight and I tumbled down onto the muddy ground, I bellowed.  Bellowed in tears of regret - not pain. For I knew when my parents laid eyes on their disobedient daughter, they would have more to say than simple words of affirmation and rapport. 

That day, I left the hospital with four sets of stitches. Three on my leg and one resting below the arch of my brow. 

A lesson for my future endeavors. 

Now, beneath the dilapidated sign that hangs above the corner of 2nd and Main, lies a forgotten Coffee Shop. A sort of lost refuge left to those of speculation and seclusion. A safe haven. And for me, most importantly, my own Oak Tree.

It was a Friday night. The air was brisk as it bellowed against the neighboring buildings, echoing throughout the antiquated street. The cafe was vacant, it had been for several hours. Not that I was complaining. For within the silence of my own solitude, I had been left accompanied by my thoughts. A sort of remedy for someone as silently clamorous as myself.

When Maple had called in sick I had been all but relieved. It was bad enough that we had been scheduled to close a Friday alone, just the two of us. But in a fit of hysteria, she had called in. We all knew she wasn't sick. I knew, my peers knew, my manager knew, Denver knew. Maple had a tendency to relinquish herself of duties last minute, especially when she "felt faint". Nonetheless, it turned out that I was grateful for the alone time. It had been a rather slow night and, instead of having to put up with Maple's incessant talking, I had been able to write in peace.

The steady rhythm of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata sang through the cafe's overhead speakers as I meticulously counted the drawers. We had been closed for about a half an hour, although I had finished most of the closing much sooner due to the lack of clientele I had throughout my shift. This was the final task I had to accomplish before hanging my apron and returning to the comfort of my bed. I was tired and wanted to be freed of my duties.

The clock rested at 9:45 when I heard the loud ringing of our front door.

Shit, I must not have locked it.

"I'm sorry, but we closed at 9:00," I hollered from behind the counter, my eyes never leaving the cash I was diligently counting.

Damn assholes made me lose track of the ones.

I was met by the shuffling of shoes. The playlist seemed to have reached its end as a stale silence filled the room, contaminating the air like a thick smog. Strong cologne made its way to my nose, drowning out the pungent smell of espresso, when I heard the tapping of knuckles against the countertop marble. 

"Look, I said we closed-"

"We just want some coffee, sweetheart. Three large, black, drip coffees." A gruff voice echoed from behind me.

Slowly I turned, astonished by the amount of audacity a single person could have. But when I made eye contact with the culprit, I couldn't say I was surprised.

A well pressed suit clung to the man before me in a way that offered no room for imagination. He was tall and lean, dark hair perfectly combed. His hand grasped a credit card as he glared into my eyes, not a single ounce of remorse or sympathy grazing his chiseled face. And he wasn't the only one. Flanked on either side were two men who followed in his beauty and power. Both equally large and astonishingly horrifying.

"Did I stutter?" The first one cooed, breaking me out of my trance.

"No, but we're closed." I stated in an attempt to stand my ground, however the shake of my voice held more weight than I was letting on.

Slowly, the one to the right creeped forward. He had blonde, slightly disheveled hair, but appeared no less distinguished than his two friends. Deep green eyes peered down at me as he leaned onto the counter, lowering himself to my height.

"We aren't trying to cause any trouble. We just really want some coffee. You think you can make that happen, Little One?" He hummed, glancing along my lips. A sly smile appeared on his friends' mouths as a deep crimson blush stained my cheeks. His fingers drummed against the counter as he stared me down.

My eyes softened as I leaned in, pulling my lip between my teeth. "Just some coffee?" I asked timidly.

A sly smirk broke his facade. Gracefully his hand made its way to my cheek, brushing a strand of hair from my face. "Just some coffee. We really need some. You'd be doing us an awfully big favor, Princess."

Bile rose in my throat at his clear arrogance. At all of their arrogance. My back straightened as I leaned away from his comfort, a scowl etching itself onto my face as I once again found my confidence. "Well if you want coffee that badly then you won't mind waiting 'till tomorrow, Princess."

Blondie's smirk grew from one of cunning to one doused in amusement. Hands in his pockets he stepped back to his original spot, running his hand along his jaw as he held in a laugh and stared at the ground.

"Excuse me?" an authoritative voice boomed, causing me to glance at the original spokesman. Anger coated his face at my defiance as he scowled at me in an attempt to intimidate, which only served to piss me off a little more.

"You heard me. I said we are closed. Now leave before I call the police." 

Silence once again carved its way between us, acting as a sort of shield. I held my ground as I glowered at the center man. His eyes darkening as his tongue licked along his top teeth. 

A chuckle echoed throughout the room as I glanced at the final culprit. Tall and sophisticated, glasses resting against his bridge, he looked nothing like his two friends. He seemed like the kind to be trusted. The type of strange one would spill their secrets too. However, the darkness that surrounded him was all too similar. "You sure you want to do that, darling?" 

"I said leave."  

I shivered as his eyes raked over my body, a look of bemusement etching itself onto his face. Onto all of their faces. 

Meticulously, they backed away. Turning towards the door and striding away like they owned the place. 

"Your wish is our demand, Princess."

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The presents hadn't stopped. Every Friday, resting on my porch, lied a gift and note. Each letter the same as before, a handwritten poem followed by a bold "We're watching you". Each present a different garnish of golden jewelry. 

The police had said that, while strange, they were unable to help. That the letters and gifts held no signs of malice and since there had yet to be any signs of physicality, they could do nothing. 

Denver and I had bought a total of three cameras to hide outside our door in an attempt to catch the offender.  Each camera had turned up broken the morning after. Shattered into pieces and left on our front mat.  

So when I ventured home I was fully expecting to find the gift box and note. And I did. Once again a small box rested on my doorstep containing a bracelet forged in real gold, a note taped to the top. 

But instead of a lovesick poem scratched onto the blank paper, a red stained threat marked the sheet. 

You should have listened, Princess.