Her First Mistake

Chapter One: Just a Bit Creepy

    "I swear, if one more pervert tries to get me to sit on his lap, I'm going to carve out his eyeballs with this spoon and make him eat them!" I slammed the glass down on the counter. The silverware in it rattled with enough force for the din in the bar to lessen for a moment. I scowled at someone, daring them to comment. The lady shook her head and looked away. Noah flinched and snatched the glass away before I could crack it.

   "Look, I know the late shift is annoying, but you're the only girl who will work here. Just try not to kill any customers, please."

   "I'm not promising anything." It frustrated me that he had a point. No sensible girl would work in this bar at night. It wasn't exactly in the nice area of town and the guys there were . . . grabby, to say the least. I barely put up with it as it was. Probably because I could imagine ten different ways to break wandering fingers, and that pacified me most of the time.

   Noah headed to the kitchen, pointing at the new plates to be passed out. I hissed under my breath and shoved my sweaty strands out of my eyes. The chestnut hair was as wild as ever, strays framing my face. It probably made me look worse when I was this sweaty. Snagging the plate of food, I checked the ticket and reminded myself to punch Noah later. I've got to go back to that pervert? Gah. At least let me give him a suicide, I'm begging you. Grudgingly, I moved to his table and set down the plate of cheesy fries. "Here's your order, sir. Is there anything I can help you with?" I better get one heck of a tip or we're going to have problems.

   A wide grin split the man's greasy face -- how the heck was it greasy? He hadn't even taken a bite! -- as he looked up. His beady eyes crinkled at the corners weirdly. It looked like he had spent too long in a basement and his face had turned to brittle paper. "Thanks, sweetheart. Care for a drink after your shift?"

   I nearly threw up in my mouth and clapped a hand over my lips to fight it back. 

   "Yeah, no," I deadpanned instantly, waving my hand and turning around. My footsteps carried me away, but I still heard his angry muttering at my response. I grinned to myself and headed back around the bar. Well, that takes care of him . . . at least temporarily. Grabbing a few more plates, I headed around the seating area and made it very clear I was avoiding him. Even if he made a fuss, all I had to do was tell my manager he was being a perv. She was incredibly protective of her employees. Especially the girls, because we were rare finds in places like this.

   Finally, I knew I couldn't keep avoiding him forever. Snagging his bill, I headed to the table and scanned his tab. My nose wrinkled. No wonder that guy's mad all the time. He eats nothing but crap. "Sir, would you like to put it to the tab or pay tonight?"

   "I think you have the wrong table."

   "I know I don't -- wait, who're you?" I halted, blinking at the woman that sat there. I wasn't surprised because the guy was gone. No, because this lady was the strangest I'd ever seen. Her skin was as pale as the moon on a good night, but pitch black designs swirled over her skin like art. Different symbols and lines covered her so much that she was like a walking canvas. Besides that, her dark hair was done in a multitude of thin braids. The marks even covered her face, but did nothing to hide the black depths of her eyes.

   Besides that, she wore leather everything. Jeans, jacket, choker. I'd seen some strange types while working, but nothing like this. Something about her put me on edge. The hairs on the back of my neck raised and my hackles went up. As to why, I had no idea. Her eyes twinkled in the silence as I stared. As if amused, she remarked casually, "I've never seen one of your . . . kind . . . in a place like this."

   My eyebrows furrowed. The heck was she talking about? "Excuse me?"

   She chuckled. It was like nails down a chalkboard. I felt like putting my hands over my ears. "You don't give me enough credit, clearly."

   "If you're talking about my boxing skills, then you're a stalker and I'm going to my manager," I threatened. "So tell me what you mean or I'll sic the cops on you." I kept my face straight, but inside I was worried. It wasn't a lie, either. If she knew who I was, that meant she was stalking me. I'd worked hard to keep my name or address from getting into the bar's customers in case of an angry customer going after me. Since I had never met her -- I would have remembered someone this creepy -- she was following me. I wasn't having that. Nuh uh.

   She raised a hand. My eyes latched onto her wrist and narrowed. "No need to worry. I understand. Consider it a good guess. Mind telling me what that sign says?" She pointed. I pulled my eyes reluctantly away from what looked like a knife's hilt in her sleeve. Is that allowed? I don't think it is. I need to get to the manager before this nut attacks someone. Glancing at the sign, I opened my mouth to speak when something tugged at the back of my head. My words turned into a yelp.

   I whipped around, arm cocked back to fight, but the woman hadn't moved. In fact, she was holding perfectly still. She hadn't even budged an inch. Her head tilted. "Well?"

   "Uh--" I put my hand on the back of my head, the skin smarting. I could have sworn she just ripped out some of my hair. "That's the prices for happy hour."

   "Is something the matter?" She inquired, putting her hand in her pocket. I shook my head hurriedly. "No, I'm fine. I'll just go get a menu real quick."

   "Fill this up for me, would you?" She slid over a glass of water. I snagged it and speed-walked away. I glanced at Noah as he sliced lemons, sticking the water under the dispenser. "Would you tell me if I'm going crazy or is that lady over there unhinged?" My nerves wouldn't settle. Considering I got into fights for fun during high school, that said something.

   Noah looked over and examined her as she gazed toward the windows. "Just a bit goth if you ask me."

   "I could have sworn she just pulled out some of my hair, bro." I pressed the dispenser and water instantly spilled onto my hands. I yelped and let go out of reflex. The glass slipped and shattered against the floor. A wave of silence swept over the bar before nervous chatter started up again. Noah grabbed the broom, his eyebrows pinched.

   "Roxie, are you okay? I've never seen you this nervous, and that's including the time we had two guys come in and try to rob the place."

   I exhaled and took the offered broom. "I dunno, man. Something about that woman is weirding me out." I looked at the glass of water and frowned. "And she literally just gave me a full glass to refill. How else could it have spilled over so fast?"

   Noah patted a towel onto the spill and looked up, concerned. "How about you take the rest of the night off? Maybe you're just tired." He was the front of house manager, and that was the entire reason he was allowed to let me go.

   I doubted it, but sighed. "Fine. Just -- write a note to the manager about that woman, would you? I think she might be following me."

   "Do I need to call the cops?"

   "Not yet." Then I realized that was probably what all the victims said before they ended up getting murdered. "Okay, fine. I'll call them and ask them to put a car around my dad's apartment."

   Noah nodded and stood up. I dumped the glass shards away and glanced over at the woman. She was looking pointedly at the windows. Am I just tired? Is Noah right? No, he couldn't be. I'd never had this issue before. Shaking my head, I took off my apron and grabbed my purse, preparing to leave. The signal in this bar sucked, so I'd get a few blocks home before calling the cops.