A Stranger in Familiar Land

Chapter 2

Ella had worked herself into a panic the night before, walking home in the cold convinced every sound she heard was a motorcycle and that someone was going to appear out of the alleyways with a gun. She hadn't realized how much Maria's words had affected her until she was walking alone through dark streets, shivering from the mild northern breeze.

The only thing that had gotten her to sleep was the notion that Maria was a prejudiced old woman that believed every bad rumor she heard about people she didn't like, and that the motorcycle club didn't know where she lived, so they couldn't kill her in the night. Despite both those facts lulling her to sleep, her dreams were filled with the old guys creepy eyes and people chasing her on motorcycles.

Her anxiety had ebbed away to a low thrum by the time Ella woke up the following day, the sunrise shining through the threadbare curtains in Ella's tiny bedroom reminding her that it was a new day.

She pulled herself out of bed and trudged to the kitchenette attached to the tiny living room. Her apartment was barely larger than the motel room she'd spent the first four days of her stay in Charming, and it was the same level of crappy. A small kitchenette with barely enough counter space to fit a sink and kettle next to the gas stove, oven, and fridge, a table that looked like someone had taken a chainsaw to an old door to make, a couple of folding chairs she kept against the wall to avoid tripping over them, a threadbare couch pushed up against the wall next to the front door, a barely-filled bookcase, and a dingy coffee table bowing under the weight of the old CR-TV resting on it. The bathroom was cramped, shoved into the corner next to the coffee table. The bedroom was through the door next to the kitchenette.

The kettle boiled while Ella slapped her face and rubbed at her eyes to herself up. Half-awake, she poured a small amount of instant coffee into a mostly clean mug and breathed deeply, leaning against the chipped counter.

It was Friday, which meant she just had to make it through today and tomorrow before having the day off. One day off was not enough, but Ella didn't mind the backbreaking work schedule. Keeping busy meant keeping her nose out of trouble. At least it was supposed to, until she opened her big mouth yesterday.

The kettle went off, pulling Ella out of her thoughts.

She poured the water into the mug and went to change into her work clothes, her robin-blue work shirt and a pair of loose jeans, while it steeped and cooled. She downed the coffee in three sips, burning her tongue in the process, while pulling on her work shoes.

Grabbing her bag, she left the apartment, locking the door behind her.

The walk to the diner wasn't long. Her apartment was positioned equidistant to the industrial section of Charming and the town center, making it only a 20-minute walk to get to work. Half of the walk was along streets without sidewalks or working streetlights, which made her trek home at the end of the day slightly intimidating, but the morning walks were nice.

Ella made it to the diner at five minutes to six in the moning. Maria was already there, a deep frown on her face. Ella bit her tongue and helped Maria opened the diner without her usual morning chatter. She greeted Dave and Kirk when they showed up ten minutes to seven, and then began her work day.

The day started out normal, the usual breakfast rush, her mid-morning break, and the lunch rush somehow keeping Ella's nerves down, lulling her into a false sense of security. All that changed at the tail-end of the lunch rush, when the roar of motorcycles stopped outside the diner and the door opened.

Ella didn't flinch when she heard the door open, but her heart had leapt back into her throat at the sound of the bikes. Maria took in a stiff breath, which is when Ella turned around to find the old guy from yesterday, flanked by two younger men, walking in. All wearing Sons of Anarchy motorcycle kuttes.