Donovan's Desire

Cruising

If Stacia was worried about Addy's costume choice, she didn't voice it, preferring instead to whine about how much extra cardio she had to do to fit into her cousin's old cheerleading outfit.  The woman would have no problem attracting men in those scraps of cloth. 

It had taken three days to forgive Charles, during which time Addy's guardian had only done patrols around her property or followed her during morning chores, taking a post outside the garage or house depending on where she put herself. On the fourth day, he didn't make his presence known at all and this upset Addy more than she would've liked to admit. 

Addy smoothed down her dress, a coral high-low with a beaded neckline that complimented her collar bones and slipped on a cardigan just in case the restaurant was cold. Her eyes skimmed the other dress hanging on the back of her bedroom door, a sleek black thing with silver crescent moons all over it, the point of a witches hat sticking out at her. She never would actually wear something so stupid looking, but it would help people realize what she was going as. 

Well, that and the accessories...the thin plastic broom was one thing, but the amulet she would pair with it was entirely real. Her grandmother had given her several pieces of jewelry over the years, but this emerald was no Party City trinket. Set in its silver more than two hundred year prior, it had been crafted specifically for Addy's bloodline as a protection. 

Halloween was not a holiday to take chances on. Myths of the barrier between worlds at its thinnest were not exaggerated and were often used to a witch's advantage. Not Addy. Not with a protector assigned to her. 

Her cell screamed a generic ring tone that she had set to denote a caller from her work number, usually someone wanting to switch her shifts or to let her know one of their residents was particularly ornery. Tonight she had a date that she was already dressed for, so she snatched the device up, ready to turn any and everyone down.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Adsila. It's Keith Duncan. How are you this evening?" The male voice asked from the other end. 

Her brow furrowed. "I'm sorry, Keith from the kitchen or Keith from HR?" Yes, there were two unfortunate souls at the old folks home named Keith, and neither was a resident.

"Keith from HR," he said flatly.

Shit. "Oh, okay then!" She laughed nervously. "I wasn't sure. Usually Carol calls me for resident issues and protocols, but-"

"I am not calling about a resident..."

"Oh?"

"Unfortunately, I am calling about another matter. We live in a small town and word travels as you know. I was contacted by one of the employees at the bar you were at the other night. This employee happens to have a family member in our care here and they were worried about a series of events that took place."

The skin on her face seemed to heat up immensely as her fingers tingled with the urge to drop the phone right then. That night had caused far more problems that she had ever thought possible and she couldn't help but scan her room for her guardian to stroke his fur in an effort to steady herself. 

She knew exactly who Keith was talking about, too. Kelly Clamper, a pot-stirring high school server worked there and her ancient great-grandmother stayed in room twenty-six, a place the little bitch had never cared to visit unless her parents dragged her along. "Mhm."

"This individual claims that you attacked and physically injured another customer before leaving the bar without paying your tab. Though the customer did not notify the police or press charges, the employee was quite afraid that you might injure their family member if you became angry enough. This is extremely concerning behavior, Adsila, as you know."