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and I backed up. But when she started to cut the bacon and lay one piece in one direction then one in the other direction over it, I settled down. She wasn’t there to hurt me. There was no reason for me to be wary about Jefferies or Jean.

She placed the thick cut bacon into the skillet. Adding some crushed sea salt and—I sniffed the air—maple syrup. She turned around to me and smiled over her shoulder.

“It’s the sweet and salty that makes it perfect,” she whispered as if it were the biggest secret.

I smiled back at her.

“How about you grab the eggs?” she said, nodding her head in the direction of the refrigerator.

“All right,” I said and walked over to the refrigerator.

I pulled out a huge tray of at least four dozen eggs and brought it over to her.

“Good. Right over there is a bowl. Let’s crack… I don’t know… how about ten eggs. I think both you boys have big appetites,” she said as Jefferies walked through the swing-door and looked to see how breakfast was coming.

“I’m getting hungry,” he said, patting his belly.

“Well, we’re getting it all ready.” She nodded her head toward the bowl and said, “You better get to cracking.”

“Oh, yeah,” I said and picked up the first egg.

I remembered helping Diane with breakfast. She would have me crack the eggs just like this. Then take a fork and whisk them together. She taught me how to make an amazing omelet.

I had cracked the ten eggs and then she put a fork in my hand as if she’d done it a thousand times before then. I started to whisk them together, and then she sprinkled in some salt and pepper with her fingers.

“Diane used to do that,” I whispered.

“Who’s Diane?” she asked.

“Diane and John were my adopted parents that took me in after my mom was killed. They died almost a year ago,” I explained.

She looked at Jefferies and sniffled.

“I’m so sorry you’ve had such a hard time. But we’re here. We’ll take good care of you.” She leaned in to give me a hug, but I pulled away. “That’s okay. You don’t have to.”

She took the bowl from me and poured it into the bacon grease. It sizzled and cooked quickly. I was really hungry as I watched Jean scramble it together and then scoop it out into a bowl.

“You boys grab some plates and forks, and I’ll bring it over.”

We sat and ate breakfast just like I had when I lived with Diane and John. They really were great people. Jefferies and Jean seemed to be a lot like them. Perhaps I’d be able to fit in among people who weren’t mac tire or ogre and who didn’t have any connections to the mystics.

➣ Chapter 17

Living In Peace

I celebrated my sixteenth birthday with Jean and Jefferies, and then I spent my next five with them too. They wanted me to move in with them in their home, but as time went on and I kept saying no, they finally gave up. I didn’t want them to get hurt because I let them get too close. It was going to be what kept them alive.

When I turned eighteen, Jean pushed me to get my GED. She helped me study before and after work at Twisted Belly. I found out why Twisted Belly was called Twisted Belly my first night cleaning the bar. A bunch of college age kids came in and drank something called Twisted Pig. It is what the Twisted Belly is known for, and it will knock you down and twist you inside out. With my advanced senses, I could hear it giggling and twisting inside of their bellies. They barely made it outside before everything in their bellies were turning and twisting and up-chucking behind the garbage bins.

Now that I was old enough to drink and serve the liquor behind the bar, I got upgraded to be a bartender. After being behind the bar for a few months, I saw an angel walk in through the door. I looked up when I caught a glimpse of her light blonde hair and lips as rosy as Snow White’s. She came up to the bar and sat down her wallet then looked around and sighed.

“Hey, can I get ya’ something?” I asked.

I needed her to speak to me.

She looked up through her eyelashes and smiled at me. Her perfectly straight, white teeth peeking out from her red lips in a coy smile.

She was beautiful. A genuine angel.

“Um… just a water. Please,” she said.

“Sure thing.” I moved to get her a glass of water.

She continued to look around the bar. She hadn’t let her beautiful blue eyes focus on anything specific. I came back over to her with the glass and set down a square napkin in front of her then her water.

“Are you looking for someone?” I asked, hoping I’d get her attention one more time.

“My friends. But I don’t see any of them.”

She twisted her lips together and wiggled her nose back and forth like Samantha on Bewitched.

I chuckled.

She turned back around to me, quirked her head and said, “Did I say something funny?”

Her tone was harsh. I definitely pissed her off by laughing.

“No, uh… you twitched your nose like a witch.”

“Excuse me?” she snapped.

“That’s not what I meant. I’ve been watching Bewitched. Samantha does the same thing with her nose… It’s cute.” I rushed to explain but felt heat travel to my face and ears with embarrassment.

“Oh.” She giggled.

It was like music to my ears. That was when I looked back up and was she…? She was checking me out. I’d had women come in and flirt with me before, but none of them kept my attention the way that this angel did.

I reached out my hand for hers and said, “Striker.”

“What?” She laughed. “No. Your name isn’t Striker, is it?” She giggled then snorted at the end. “Oh my God, I’m so

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