11
1396 Words
Charlotte Sanguinite
“What?” I wipe my eyes furiously. “You just don’t give up, do you? You want to know the truth? My family didn’t want me, okay? I’m a defect. I’m a defective vampire! If they went and struck me from the family register, they clearly don’t have anything to do with me anymore. I don’t have a clan. I don’t have a family. I don’t have anyone. So just—” my voice cracks, “just leave me alone! I just want to be left alone.” I get to my feet, my heart throbbing with a pain that has never really died. “If you want to get rid of me, just kill me. Stop wrecking whatever life I’m trying to build for myself!”
Turning on my heel, I run toward the back room.
He can catch me easily if he wishes, but he doesn’t.
I run past a startled Shelby, straight into the storage room, and slamming the door shut behind me, I sink to the ground, trying to regulate my breathing. I can feel the panic attack coming; it’s hard to think, hard to breathe past the suffocation that is strangling me.
I was never enough.
For my father, for my siblings, for my clan, I was never enough. And no matter how hard I work, how many plans I make for the future, the constant reminder of how unwanted I am never stops looming over my head. My heart feels like it will burst out of my chest, it’s beating so painfully hard.
Like packs are important to wolf shifters, vampires thrive in their clans. Without a clan, we are nothing. I feel like nothing most of the time. Sometimes, when I look at myself in the mirror, I want to smash the reflection. I want to hate the tired-looking woman staring back at me.
Why does no one want me?
The fourteen-year-old asked that question over and over again as she wandered into the city, shivering, her heart broken. The twenty-two-year-old woman I’ve become still asks this question.
I’ve worked at a number of places, but this one, this cafe, and the shelter I volunteer at, they helped me find my footing. This little coffee shop, the people who work here, they gave me a place to belong. Maybe for Shelby and Jazz, and even Gina, this place might just be another job, but for me, it’s stability. I’ve never had that before. I’ve found people I consider friends, something I’ve always wanted. It’s not much, but it gives me some peace. And now…Now, I’m being forced to give it all up again.
I wipe my eyes, and there’s a knock on the door.
“Charlotte, sweetie, you okay?” Shelby sounds upset. “Please open the door.”
“I’m fine,” I say, trying to breathe through the panic. “Give me a minute.”
Silence from the other side, and then Shelby says, “Your boyfriend is gone.”
A choked guffaw bubbles out of my mouth. The sheer absurdity of her words makes me want to both laugh and cry, at the same time.
It helps.
I press the heel of my palm against my forehead, a small, humorless smile playing on my lips now. Sometimes I feel like a broken ship drifting on a vast ocean, with no anchor. I’m just floating, trying to find a place to land.
I get to my feet and open the door.
Shelby’s worried face is the first thing I see.
“I drove him out!” she says fiercely. “Told him to take his attitude with him. If he bothers you again, I’ll give you some pepper spray to use on him.”
“Thanks, Shelby, but he’s not my boyfriend.”
“He’s not?” She doesn’t sound very convinced. “Are you sure? Because I saw the way he was looking at you…”
I shake my head at her. “Trust me. I’m nothing more than an inconvenience to him.”
The older woman gives me a troubled look and then says, slowly, “But he’s still bothering you, isn’t he?” She doesn’t wait for a reply, adding, “My sister and nephew run a farm up in Washington. If you want, I can talk to them about a job. The problem is, it’s a little isolated out there. The closest town is a half-hour drive.”
My head shoots up, “Really?”
That might work.
Shelby looks a little taken aback at my apparent enthusiasm. “Y—You want me to talk to her?”
“Will you?”
Her sigh is heavy as she puts a hand on my shoulder. “You’re a good girl, Charlotte. I wish you hadn’t got caught up with those loan sharks. I always tell my kids: never borrow money that’s not from a bank. But you lot are just young and hot-headed.”
At this point, I don’t even want to correct her.
Robert really is gone when I head to the front of the coffee shop. But under my laptop, he’s left his card. I stare at it.
Does he think I’m going to give him a call?
What is this, an interview?
I crumple the card, but before I can toss it in the trash, I hear my phone go off.
It’s Ricky.
I’m not due at the shelter today, so I wonder what he wants.
I press the phone to my ear, my voice a little scratchy. “Hey, Ricky. Everything okay?”
“Charlotte, can you come cover for me for a couple hours today? I’ve got some family stuff to deal with. It’s urgent. I tried Estelle, but she’s not picking up.”
Estelle is the vet who works in the mornings and afternoons.
“Um, how long?” I ask uneasily.
“I don’t know,” he admits, sounding tense. “It might be morning before I’m back.”
I groan inwardly. “Okay, but Ricky, Mano is home alone. And I was just about to head home to her—”
“Bring her with you. I’ll pay you. I can’t leave the shelter unattended.”
I sigh. “Okay, alright.”
“Look, I’ll book you a taxi. It’ll pick you up from your workplace, you can go get your cat, and then it’ll drop you off here.”
My brow furrows. The situation must be really bad for him to be springing for a taxi.
“Okay, don’t worry.”
As soon as I end the call, I absentmindedly stuff the crumpled card into my pocket and look at Shelby. “I’ll finish wiping down the tables. Do you mind locking up tonight? I’m needed at the animal shelter.”
“Of course!” Shelby seems a little too relieved, for some reason.
Ricky knows where I work because sometimes I bring him free coffee and leftovers from our bakery section. I’m drying the coffee pots when the taxi arrives.
“I’m leaving, Shelby!” I call out.
In response, the older woman hurries out of the kitchen, holding a bag. “Here. We have a lot left over.”
The smell of the beef buns makes my mouth water. Shelby has gone the extra mile and heated them up for me.
“You’re the best, Shelby.” I beam at her, feeling much better.
Grabbing my things, I make a beeline for the taxi waiting outside. Fortunately, there’s not much to pack for an annoyed Mano when I reach my apartment. But I slide my pajamas and a shirt into my bag. Ricky is waiting outside the shelter for me when the taxi finally arrives there, his arms crossed and anxiety radiating from every pore.
“You’re here.” He looks relieved. “Sorry, my sister’s baby. He’s not doing well. They’re both hospitalized, so I have to go.”
My eyes widen in shock. “Wait, what?”
“I have to go!” He gets in the taxi. “Thanks for this!”
I watch the car drive away, bewildered and concerned at the same time.
I don’t know much about Ricky, except that he owns this shelter. He’s mentioned his sister a couple of times, but I’ve never met her.
I hope everything turns out okay.
- Writer
