Chapter Three

"Morning." I waived to my boss as I entered the diner.

Sandra lifted her gaze, smiling brightly.

"Hi honey, are you ready for today?" She asked, cheerfully.

"Yeah, sure. Where should I start?" I asked, feeling a surge of enthusiasm.

Gratitude didn't even come close to how I was feeling. The woman was a lifesaver. My very own guardian angel. She really helped me out yesterday. The least I could do in return was to apply myself here at work.

"Here, take this order pad and pen." She handed me hers. "All you have to do is make a note of the table number and write down what the customer wants," she explained.

To be honest, it was all pretty straightforward, even a monkey could do it.

My first day was fairly easy. I learned how to make milkshakes with ice-cream, brew coffee, and make cakes. I'd never done anything like this before. It was fun.

Most customers were pleasant. We got the odd one, who would complain like a grumpy ass bastard, but you just let it go over your head.

A teenage couple walked in, draped over one another like they were conjoined twins. The guy had a blue football jacket on, so I'm guessing he was a jock. And the girl seemed like one of those, high maintenance, girly types. So she was probably one of the popular girls.

I went over to their table to take their order. As soon as the girl saw me, she looked me up and down with amusement. My facial bruising had already started to fade. Usually, my bruises took forever to heal. Now it just looked as if I had dark shadows under my eyes, which was probably why she was staring at me.

"Hi, are you ready to order?" I smiled politely.

The guy smirked mischievously as he glanced at his girlfriend.

"Um, what's so special about the foot-long special?" He asked.

The girl giggled. I looked back and forth between them, not understanding the joke. My face must have looked confused as hell because he started to elaborate.

"You see, my girl likes her sausage at least twelve inches long, so what's so special about it?" He grinned, waiting for my answer.

His girlfriend gave a mock gasp and playfully slapped him on the arm. When the penny finally dropped, I internally groaned. I would've died of shame if I was in her shoes right now. If that was my boyfriend, talking about me in that way, I would've stormed out of the diner. Maybe even yelled at him. Anything but laugh.

"You see, Sir, what makes is so special, is the jalapeno cheese sauce." My jaw ached as I forced out my words with a superficial smile.

He pretended to think while he tapped his chin.

I wanted to roll my eyes and tut at his pathetic attempt to embarrass me, but it was my first day, and there was no way that this jerk was screwing it up for me.

Stupid, immature asshole... and breathe!

His face dropped when he realized his plan didn't work. I could have hit him with a witty comeback, but I wasn't that petty. I doubted very much that this jerk had a twelve-inch-long penis. If he was genuine then why did he feel the need to brag about it?

They ordered two Pepsi's and started to suck each other faces off before I'd even turned around to leave. I looked at Sandra, who was casting them daggers from behind the counter.

I hated public displays of affection. I got embarrassed for other people. I always get uncomfortable when I watch it on TV, let alone when people flaunt it in front of my face.

As customers got up to leave, I cleared away the dishes and wiped the tabletop down. When there was nothing to do, I went from table to table, wiping the salt and pepper shakers clean. I caught bits and pieces of people's conversations, here and there.

I'm the first one to admit, that I love a good gossip. The nosey parker in me, just couldn't resist listening in to the happenings in people's lives. It provided me with a temporary escape from my own dark and desolate one.

Two men were sitting in a booth, eating all-day breakfasts, whilst deep in conversation. I hung back to take my time, wiping the table. Their voices became more audible as the record changed over on the jukebox.

"There's a pack meeting, later to discuss it. But for now, we're to keep a low profile." A tall, slender, blond-haired guy, hunched over the table. He was sitting adjacent to another guy, who seemed to hang off every word he said.

"I can't believe it, after all this time." The guy who was listening replied.

He was shorter than his friend but much more stocky. He had a wiry, ginger mustache that was the same color as his curly hair.

"I know, what a stroke of luck. I wonder what the Alpha's gonna do? He's been trying to track her down for years," the blond one mentioned.

"He'll want to mark her, stupid?" The guy with the mustache remarked, with an eye roll.

"Nah, not yet, he can't. She's underage," the blond guy muttered. "He won't do anything that'll scare her off. Desperate times call for desperate measures. If she runs for the hills, she could wind up..." He stopped what he was saying then turned to face me.

I hadn't realized that I was staring and had been blatantly caught, eavesdropping. I hurried away, pretending to act innocently.

The men finished the rest of their food in silence.

How weird. The nicknames people came up with these days. Alpha. Didn't cops use that word? 'Alpha, Bravo, Charlie, Delta, Tango, Foxtrot' I'd watched enough shows to know they were probably cops.

I also kept thinking about the woman on the bus yesterday, and about the things she said to me. I lay awake half the night, stewing over everything. Then a crazy idea popped straight into my head. One that would only gnaw away at me if I didn't follow it through.

"Sandra, can I ask you something?" I asked as she was leaning against the counter, filling out paperwork.

"Sure, honey, what is it?" She replied, flicking her gaze to meet mine.

"Does this town have a list of births and marriages, like a library archive or something?" I asked, fidgeting awkwardly.

It was worth a shot. If I didn't at least check, then I'd always wonder, wouldn't I?

She looked back at me, thoughtfully.

"Yeah, there's a Library down by the Town Hall. If you ask for a woman called Nina, she will help you look. Tell her you know me. We went to school together."

"Thank you, so much. I really appreciate everything you've done for me," I thanked her.

If it wasn't for this wonderful woman, I'd be dead in a gutter for sure.

"It's no problem at all. I hope you find what you're looking for?" She flashed me a friendly smile.

As soon as my shift ended at 2 p.m. I took a walk into town. I didn't pay too much attention to all the gasps and stares, this time. I caught a few of the comments though.

"That's the girl."

"Are we allowed to speak to her?"

"Do you think he's spoken to her yet?"

Their whispers seemed to carry on the breeze. My hearing had always been sharp, having the ability to hear a pin drop in a crowded room. It's as if my sense of smell had heightened too. Allowing me to distinguish the scent of each flower I passed along the flowerbeds.

The library was one of the oldest looking buildings in town, situated alongside the town hall. Both buildings were made from grey stone, and had white marble stone pillars holding up triangular pitched roofs. There were sculptures carved into the sides of the walls. As soon as I laid eyes on them, I thought of Mount Olympus. But instead of Gods, they were wolves.

Inside the library, the air smelled musty, like old pages of books. There was a maze of bookshelves, that reached as high as the ceiling, and ladders on wheels that enabled you to reach right to the top. It was painfully silent in here I had been so keen to go inside that I accidentally let the door slam shut behind me.

The lady sitting at the desk snapped her head towards me, narrowing her eyes. I cringed sheepishly, mouthing the word 'sorry'. As I approached her desk, her emerald eyes never left me once. Her hair was as black as raven feathers. Shiny and luscious and scraped back into a tight bun. Her talon-like nails tapped the desk, impatiently.

"Can I help you?" She asked in a way that sounded more like 'are you lost'?

It wasn't the friendly response I was hoping for, but I had just made a noise like an atom bomb being dropped and probably scared her shitless.

"Hi, do you know where I could find, Nina? I was told she could help me."

I internally cringed as she eyed me up like an insect. One that she was just about to stomp on. I felt as shy as a turtle, trying to push my head inside my shell. It was either that or stick my head up my ass.

"I'm Nina," she snapped, abruptly.

Jesus Christ.

I shuddered as if a cold draft blew down the back of my neck. The way her lips twisted as she scowled, it was if I'd just disturbed her from reading a steamy scene from Fifty Shades Of Grey.

"Well, what do you want?" She looked like a viper, waiting to spring right over the desk and sink her poisonous fangs into me.

"Um, Sandra said," I mumbled, wishing that the ground would swallow me.

Her brows relaxed with surprise, brightening her features.

"Oh, Sandy sent you. Why didn't you say so?"

I let out a relieved exhale.

"I want to check the births and marriages," I explained, gathering a little more confidence.

"What name are you wanting to search for honey?" She tapped away on the keyboard.

"Grayson... Leah Grayson," I gave her my name.

My stomach fluttered with anticipation. Either the old lady on the bus was some freaky opportunist or she wasn't. I'd find out within the next ten seconds.

She looked up at me once I gave her my name as if seeing me for the first time. For a split-second, I thought she wasn't going to help me, but she turned to the screen so that I could see, then started typing away again.

"Ah-ha!" She announced, making me jump.

She tapped the screen with her perfectly manicured fingernail.

I squinted as my eyes scanned back and forth over the information. Trying to make sense of the abbreviations next to the names. As soon as I saw my name alongside those if my parents, I gave a gasp of shock. Nina read it all out for me.

"Leah Grayson. Born on the twenty-sixth of August, two-thousand-and-one. Her mother was, a Mrs. Victoria Grayson, maiden name was Sherwin. Her father was Aaron Grayson. Born and raised here in Stonevale," she continued.

Just as I was about to zone out, what she said next caused me to sway on my feet.

"Her brother is Jace Grayson, born on March the fourth, nineteen-ninety-seven. Is that all, honey? Do you want me to delve further back?" She offered as if it was no trouble at all.

I couldn't believe it. That crazy old lady had been right. We did live here. But instead of scaring the shit out of me, it brought me a strange sense of comfort.

"Is the son still alive? And does he live here in Stonevale?" I asked with a hint of hysteria in my voice.

Ever since my parents were killed, I'd felt all alone in the world. There was nothing I found more terrifying than being completely alone. Now there was a strong possibility that I had a brother. One who could still be living here in town.

"Jace Grayson?" She eyed me quizzically.

I relaxed against the desk as I sighed. "But this doesn't make sense. Why would they leave him behind if he was still alive? And why did they never tell me that I had a brother?" A series of questions began to surface.

I didn't want to think badly of my parents, but none of this was making any sense.

"Oh, darn it, computers crashed!" She announced, turning the screen away from me.

I swatted the air, signaling that it was fine.

"It's alright. I got what I came for. There can only be one Jace Grayson in Stonevale, can't there?" I shrugged.

Nina became flustered for some reason. Stuttering her words and apologizing profusely.

"I'm so terribly sorry. How careless of me. I don't have the authorization to give you that information," she panicked. "Please, don't tell anyone what I've shown you. I'll be in so much trouble. Sandra should know better too. She shouldn't have sent you here."

"You only gave me my family's details. So I don't see how you've broken any laws. My parents are dead. I'm pretty sure they won't mind." I chuckled.

Nina ushered me out of the library and then locked the door. She turned the rectangular sign around that had 'closed for lunch' printed on it.

"Weird," I muttered under my breath.

***

During the weeks that followed, I asked around about Jace. Nobody could tell me anything. Much to my dismay. As soon as I mentioned the name, people clammed up then made an excuse that they had to go somewhere.

This didn't exactly inspire my confidence that he was alive and well. So, after much deliberation, I searched the headstones in the graveyard. Thankfully, I didn't find anything there. It was a dead end. I know, I mentally facepalmed myself too. I sure know how to kill a joke.

I even went back into the library again, but my entire family history had disappeared from the archive memory. Nina said that there must've been a bug in the system, but I just think she refused to co-operate after last time.

Weeks and weeks passed by, and I was still no closer to finding Jace. I had no choice but to accept the inevitable: either he was long gone from here, or he didn't want to be found.

For a while now, I kept having that same horrific nightmare over and over again. I put it down to the trauma of losing Mom and Dad. I read somewhere, that you can suffer from night terrors after a traumatic experience.

It was that female voice that disturbed me the most. Raspy and animalistic. With each dream, it got more and more demanding. Ordering me to accept her, to open myself up fully and let her in.

Each time I woke up, I swore I could hear a harsh, whining sound in the back of my head like an echo. The dreams were becoming quite a problem. I had been waking up even more exhausted than before I'd gone to sleep. The closer it got to bedtime, the more agitated I'd become. It got to the point where I tried to avoid sleep altogether, becoming an insomniac.

My health was starting to take a nosedive, and that was when Sandra took me to the emergency room. The doctor there prescribed me some pills that helped send me into a dreamless sleep. But although I no longer heard the voice, I sensed something inside me scratching at the door, desperate to claw its way out.