Black Rose

11.

The next morning, I woke to the smell of pancakes. My favorite. My thoughts automatically drifted to my mom. I envisioned her in the kitchen with her favorite candy apple red apron on, busy at work trying to prepare her family a five-star breakfast. It used to be like that every Sunday morning. Pancakes, eggs, fresh fruit, orange juice. My stomach growled in response.

Opening my eyes, I had to blink a few times before realization settled in. I didn't wake up in my bed, surrounded by the comforts of my bedroom. I woke up in Badge's den, bundled up in an old blanket, surrounded by games and a flat screen. It was cold down here. I had to hug myself to keep from shivering. It was not like my attic/room that always seemed to stay warmer than the rest of the house. I couldn't hear the sound of my sister's footsteps colliding into the paneled wood in the hallway downstairs, or Clark's annoyed voice as he yelled at her for stealing something out of his room. Even the presence of my dad's voice booming after them was absent, leaving a curious ache in my heart. It was not Sunday morning.

I reached over onto the coffee table for my phone. It was nine in the morning. And Thursday. And I was late for school. I found my way up the stairs, following the enticing aroma. I stopped in my tracks as I entered the kitchen. Slick was cooking over the stove, busy flipping away at the pancakes he was making.

"I figured you might be hungry," he greeted, not looking up. "I heard these were your favorite." He must've sensed my hesitance. "Don't worry. I didn't use eggs or buttermilk."

I didn't know what to say. Part of me felt like I was still dreaming. "W-where is everyone?"

"School. Work. Out into town," he replied, stacking the pancake he was working on onto a pile of pancakes on the side.

"Why did no one wake me?" I asked curious, watching him as he poured more batter into the pan.

"They thought you might have needed the day off to work things through."

"And they left me here. Alone. With you?" This was the first time he looked up at me since I entered the room.

He had a dubious look on his face. "What? You don't trust me now?"

"I-I don't really know you."

He gave a smile. "Why do you think I'm here?"

"I thought it was to protect me."

"That among other things." He winked. "Sit. I'll make you a plate."

I hesitated for a moment before taking a seat at the empty table. "That's a lot of pancakes for just the two of us," I noted.

"Well, I figured your friends might want some too," he answered, bringing a plate over to me. "What kind of syrup do you like?" He asked, walking back over to the cabinets, opening and closing them.

"What friends?" I questioned, breathing in the plate before me, my stomach growling louder in response.

"You know...Rayne, and the mopey one who's name I can't remember," he replied, finally finding the syrup bottle and bringing it over to the table.

"They're still here?" He nodded his head, taking a seat across from me. "W-what about Tula?"

"She left," said another male voice. I looked up at the entryway of the kitchen and found Rayne and Keahi both standing there awkwardly. Neither of them looked like they wanted to enter any further. To be honest, they both looked disheveled and exhausted. A look I was not used to seeing on them.

"Come sit. We need to discuss." Slick motioned for them. He seemed kind enough when he said it, but there was still enough conviction in his tone that told you that his offer wasn't really optional.