LUCK prologue!

By S.J. Sylvis

Copyright © by S.J. Sylvis
One Year Ago

            “Stop it, Rowen.” I said through my fits of laugher. I hate being tickled but it’s one of those ‘love to hate’ kind of things. I fumble with putting my shirt back over my head because Rowen’s taking his fingers and jabbing them into my ribs.

            “Seriously, stop! We’re gonna ge—” More laughter, “We’re gonna get caught, now stop!” I swat his arm playfully and he jumps back just in time to hit the broom stick; it clashes to the ground with a loud swish and bang, sending a tremor throughout the restaurant. I guess that’s what you get when you dip out of work and end up in the supply closet with your boyfriend/co-worker.

            We both pause at the sound of the broom stick falling, waiting for someone to come investigate. I stare at his deep brown eyes, and he stares back at mine, both of our ears perked. We wait a few more minutes and no one comes. I quickly throw on my red polo and Rowen tucks his shirt back into his pants and he grabs my hand and pulls me out of the supply closet, quiet as can be. We both peek our heads around the corner, and no one has even noticed that we’re missing.

Rowen takes my arms and pulls me to his chest and I giggle. He whispers, “I love you, and our supply closet adventures.” He kisses the top of my hair and adjusts my visor so it’s straight on my head. 

            “I love you more.” And I do. I love him with my entire heart. He has it, and he always will. I’m young. I know, trust me, my mom tells me every chance she gets; “Sweetie, you’re only seventeen. You’re too young to be in love.” I stay quiet every time the words leave her mouth. I don’t care what she says, Rowen is my true love. When you know, you know.

            “Let’s go before we get caught.” I nod in his direction and I make my way to the back side of the counter. Rowen grabs his yellow bucket full of bleach water and starts mopping the tan colored tiled floor.

            This chicken restaurant isn’t the most ideal job I’ve ever had, but it works for now. Until I go to college and plus, it’s where I met Rowen. I think I’ll always be thankful for this job despite smelling like fried chicken every night and having to wash the layer of grease off my face when I leave.

            My head whips in the direction of the glass doors as Samantha stumbles inside. She’s soaking wet and she brings in a ton of rain water with her. It’s always storming this time of the year. In North Carolina, we normally have good weather for most of the year but when spring hits, it rains an abundance amount, driving me crazy, but I love still this little town more than anything.

            “Thanks Samantha, I just mopped over there.” Rowen rolls his eyes at Samantha’s soaking wet boots and she laughs.
            “Sorrrrrrry!” She grins at him and she walks her way over to me. “Got any free chicken for yours truly, tonight?” Samantha comes in almost every night that Rowen and I work. She wants free chicken and since it’s so late when she comes, I always give her the leftovers. 

            “You know it. Wipe your feet and go sit down. I’ll bring it out.” She gives me a wicked smile and wipes her feet, rather obnoxiously on the rug under the register and makes sure that Rowen is watching her. She skips to the backside of the restaurant and I go sweet talk our kitchen crew.

            “Hey James, Samantha is here. Can I give her some of your delicious crispy chicken thighs?” I smile sweetly at James and he shakes his head, with a little smile playing on his lips. James is the head cook and he’s been here for over fifteen years. They’ve offered him the manager job so many times but every time, he denies it. He says, ‘I just like to make chicken. It’s in my blood.’, and turns the offer down. He’s an older guy—in his forties. He was born and raised here in this tiny town, and he also tends to his tiny farm. He sells collard greens on the side and he says, that collard greens and chicken make him happy, so everyone needs to leave him alone. He can appear like a grumpy old man on the outside, but the truth is, he wouldn’t hurt a fly. He’s especially sweet towards me, and I can’t figure out why; he just likes me. I half think he knows that Rowen and I disappear every so often to the broom closet and he never says anything. Only glares at Rowen and then smiles his wide, white smile at me.

            “Here ya go, darlin’”. He hands me a batch of chicken and I turn around to take it to Samantha when I hear the ringing of a bell towards the door. It’s strange having anyone else come into the restaurant this late at night, it’s nearly ten on a weekday. No one comes in this late unless they’re desperately wanting chicken at a strange hour, or if they’re Samantha. When my eyes make their way to the door, I’m frozen in my spot. My feet feel like they’re cemented into the tiled floor.

            My gaze meets the two slits cut into the black, ski mask and my heart stops as all the blood is drained from my face. The person is wearing all black. Black shoes, black pants, a black hoodie with the hood pulled up and a black ski mask. It feels as if time has slowed. I watch as he looks around the room. He spots Samantha who is cowering in the back booths, with her hand over her mouth, he spots Rowen who is also frozen in his place with his mouth slightly ajar, then he looks in my direction, quickly glances to the James and Amanda, who is standing with her back to the entrance, having no idea that the devil just walked in.

            I see the man’s beady eyes dart back and forth between me and the register, and then to Rowen. He’s deciding what to do first. Everyone is just stuck. Time has stopped. I hear nothing but my own heart beat in my eardrums, pounding wildly with every breath I take. He whips out a gun and points it at Rowen and my heart plummets. I drop the bag of chicken as soon as he opens his mouth, ‘Move and I’ll kill you.’ He sends a snarl towards the love of my life and I have the sudden urge to scream. Rowen’s eyes are trained on mine. I shake my head ‘no’ at him and he continues to state at me with a look of fear clouding in. I swallow loudly as I advert my gaze to see Samantha, she’s hunched in her seat with the look of fear plastered all over her face. 

            The attacker continues to point his gun at Rowen but makes his way over to me. I’m standing directly behind the counter by the register, with hot chicken splayed at my feet. My breathing is rapid and I’m holding on to the cold metal counter, inching my thumb towards the red panic bottom placed on the bottom.

            “Open the register!” He screams so loudly that spit flies out of his mouth. I find the panic button and my heart flutters with relief. I press it and his eyes widen as he looks down at my hand. “You dumb bitch!” He brings his gun up and belts me in the head with it. I bend down, covering my forehead with my hand as I feel a sharp, white pain course through my vison. I can feel the warm blood rushing through my fingers and I hear my name briefly leave Rowen’s mouth and then I hear a gun shot. I bring my head up and see the gun pointed in his direction, but it looks as if the bullet has only grazed Rowan. The bullet clatters against the glass window and it cracks, all the way up to the top of the building. I look back at Rowen once more and he is holding his shoulder, crouched on the ground. Before I can even fathom what I’m doing, I leap across the counter and jump on the man’s back. My instincts took over the second he shot the gun in Rowen’s direction. The man wildly moves his body and grabs me by my tiny arms and throws me below his feet, kicking me swiftly in the stomach. I hear nothing but his kicks pounding into my lifeless body. I feel one last hard blow to the head and I’m met with a haze. My vison is blurry, my stomach is burning with pain. I feel the blood dripping down my face, and onto the floor. I slowly reach up and touch my face, feeling the puffiness of right eye and I hear the bell chime. I wait, I wait for someone to help me, but no one comes. I look up and I see Samantha cowering above Rowen’s body on the ground. He’s holding his shoulder and looking up at her shining face, with her blonde hair cascading down towards his. My stomach drops when I think he’s actually been shot, but I was right. He was only grazed. His shoulder is bleeding a little but he’s staring at her face. 

            Confusion fills my body and I wonder why she’s not making sure I’m okay, too. I’m confused that Rowen is looking up at her like she is an angel sent from God. He hasn’t even looked in my direction. I look up at the ceiling tiles and then back to Rowen, his eyes meet mine and they’re filled with remorse. My vison goes blurry again and I shake my head in protest, but it feels like my brain is bouncing off a brick wall. I bring my hands to my head white spots crowd my vision. I pry open my one eye at the sound of James frantic, southern voice echoing on the phone. He’s over to me in seconds, searching my face. He presses his rag on my forehead and sooths me. “It’s gonna be okay, sweets. The ambulance is on its way.”

            “Where’s Rowen?” I ask, although my voice comes out weak and in a whisper. Where is Rowen? Why isn’t he over here with me, making sure I’m okay?  I see James look up in the direction of the back, and he glares. If looks could kill, his would in that very moment.

            “It’s okay Sadie. I see the ambulance.” And I’m met with darkness.