Bonnie Lawrence had always believed that she was destined for one thing: to be forgotten.
When a demon attempts to murder her for this very reason-she starts to resent that statement.
And the two men that saved her may just have the answers to her...
A/N: Hi lovelies! Thank you so much for 150 reads, I'm so glad you're liking the book so far! As always, let me know what you think and I can't wait to hear from you!! I'm hoping to have this book finished for the watty's so uploads might be becoming more frequent, especially next month, but I'll keep you updated!!!
All my love xx
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As far as anyone was aware, the small, twenty-four-hour cafe that sat on the corner of a usually quiet and boring Glasgow street, had been the victim of mindless hooligan vandalism. The people that did it took off with nothing, not even the small amount of money in the till, but they left behind a tornado of mess made by the ingredients found at the front counter. Luckily, the only worker who was there was found unharmed, but unconscious. Therefore, the plagues to society couldn't be identified. Not only that, but because of the lack of staff and miscommunications, the security system wasn't active and therefore no leads were going to be followed.
Or at least that's what every single person believed, except for Bonnie.
She obviously knew that there had been no hooligans, no spontaneous decision to mess up an otherwise unknown cafe and reap no benefits. It had genuinely surprised her when she woke to a figure standing over her asking if she was alright—she half expected to be dead. But as her vision came around and her mind stumbled to realisation, it only took a moment to understand that the early morning construction workers had come in and found her, and that the men from before had been honest about keeping her alive.
If they were real, that is.
It had been on Bonnie's mind since the moment she looked around the place. It would be right to think that all that had happened here was exactly what she'd told everyone, but in small speckles of evidence, she could still see the truth. A few charred marks on the wall, a dark substance that looked like ash, but thicker, splayed over floorboards. She'd noticed them when the sunlight had risen, overlooked by the people around, but so obvious to her.
A part of her almost wanted to tell the truth, to at least see if what she knew could even be the tiniest bit logical or someone could offer a hand of explanation. This idea quickly died when the shouts of her boss had chimed from along the street upon seeing the front smashed window, and she knew the anger that would grow at seeing his business in such a state inside. He would only redirect it to her if she started talking nonsense or trying to blame the dent in his income on mythical beings and men who appeared out of nowhere. Plus, if she admitted she'd been awake, then she might not have received such a caring hug from him or been told to take the next couple of days off. She was especially grateful for the cover story when he'd realised that his daughter had forgotten to check the cameras earlier in the day and he had zero claims available with the lack of evidence. She'd hate to think about how he'd react to knowing she'd skipped out on work, too.
But that wasn't her problem—Bonnie felt bad that Isabel was probably going to get the lecture of a lifetime and a fair amount of blame, but she wasn't the one who had almost died and was still trying to figure out if they were going insane or not. The mess on the outside of Bonnie was no match for the unravelling crisis beginning in her head. Maybe it was the shock that kept her legs working and mouth shut.
