Facing Reality

Chapter 1

PART 2

(Sarah Parks)

    I huffed as wiped the flour from my hands onto my apron. I was fed up with the group of men sitting in the middle of the dining area, laughing their drunk asses off. I did not allow any type of alcoholic or drug-related substance in my cafe, and that included intoxicated people. It was at times like these that I really wished I had hired some type of part time security.

    I stormed up to their table, hands on my hips. "Excuse me, but I want you out of my cafe right now," I told them, snapping my fingers toward the door. "You are disrupting my customers."

    All of them chuckled as one of them got up and took a unsteady step toward me. "Ay! I like myself a little diva. Would ya be mine, sweetheart?"

    I held my ground, glaring up at him. "Don't talk like that about me!"

    The man's arm shot out and wrapped around my waist, jerking me toward him. I could smell the beer on his breath as he grinned at me. "Oh, come on, beautiful! Don't be like that."

    I'd had enough. In one swift movement, my knuckles connected with the drunkard's jaw. He let go of me and doubled over, clutching the side of his face. His companions stared on, confusion washing over their expression.

    "Get out or you'll get a lot more than just a punch in the jaw." I jutted one hip out and stared each of the men down.

    After a long moment, the men left, grumbling.

    I dusted my hands off and started back toward the kitchen, smiling at each of my customers on my way. They smiled right back at me, most of them being regulars who knew about my policies.

    When I entered the kitchen, I came upon a very welcome sight. A sleek, black haired girl with big blue eyes sat on the counter, eating one of my freshly baked cookies.

    "Riley." I crossed the space between us and gave her a tight hug. "It's so good to see you! I'm glad you're back from putting those awful two men behind bars. I can't believe they had the audacity to make up such an outrageous story!"

    She smiled weakly. "Yeah, it was a relief to know they are locked away..."

    I frowned and raised an eyebrow. "Girl, tell me right now what is on your mind, or I won't let you have any more cookies."

    Riley's shoulders slumped. "I just... there were three of them, and I wish that man hadn't died. I mean, even if he was after what he did, I don't think he deserved to die. He deserved another chance."

    My heart softened for my friend. "I know, honey." I reached over and placed one of my hands on her shoulder. "Would a bowl of fresh pudding bring your spirits up again?"

    Riley's eyes lit with excitement. "I hate to say this, but yes. What kind?"

    I laughed as I went to the fridge and pulled out a large bowl. "Raspberry." I doled her out some and watched as she took a bite. Her eyes closed in bliss.

    "Mmm. As wonderful as ever, Sarah."

    I clapped my hands together. "Right. Now you owe me one."

    Riley's eyes snapped open, and she eyed me cautiously. "What do you want?"

    I twisted my lips to the side and made a show of thinking about it. "Be my guinea pig?"

    Riley opened her mouth, probably about to tell me she wasn't about to try any of my fried tomatoes ever again.

    "Please?" I batted my eyelashes at her and made my best puppy eyes. Yes, I was twenty-nine years old and still made full use of my puppy eyes.

    Riley groaned and let her head drop backwards so she could stare at the ceiling. "Fine!"

    I clapped my hands excitedly and let out a little squeak. "Yay! Now, get Luke over here. I'll have it ready when you get here."

    She sighed, jumped off the counter, and left the kitchen.

    Smiling and humming to myself, I started to do my part of the deal that Luke had made with me. I carefully placed the two pieces of velvet coffee cake on the counter, making sure I knew which one had the ring in it.

    When I stepped back, excitement raced through me. I was beyond ecstatic that Luke was proposing and had asked me to help him.

    As I studied the set up, I heard a bang and a thump come from the back door.

    "Really?" I growled. The mailman was always banging on my door when he came by. I wasn't sure what was up with him, but I was getting sick and tired of it. If he did this one more time, I was going to call his superiors and complain.

    Storming over to the door, I jerked it open, ready to give him a piece of my mind. What I found stopped me in my tracks and made my heart leap into my throat. A man lay on my porch, his whole body twisted at an awkward angle.

    Carefully I inched toward him. As I got a clearer view, it became more and more obvious that something was very wrong. Bruises lined his cheeks, small cuts littered his face which was a pale, pasty color, and a purple line that looked like a rope burn peeked out from beneath his shirt collar. I couldn't tell if he was even breathing.

    Suddenly, he jerked. His eyes flew open, and he stared straight at me. "Help," he croaked weakly.