I Dream Of The Darkness

I dream of the darkness. Of the emptiness surrounding me, with nowhere to turn. Because wherever I go, he follows me. Someone chasing me, but I don’t know who it is or what they want from me.


As I turn my head and look behind me, I see his eyes. Golden eyes glowing in the dark. Panic sets in, and I go further into the wilderness. Alone and desperate for someone to save me. The last thing I ever see before I wake up is a large hand. One with long fingers and a strong grip. It’s that hand that reaches out and grabs me by the back of the neck.


I always wake up in a cold sweat. Restless and feeling like I’m in a game nobody taught me how to play. It’s the feeling of dread. The deep down tiredness of everything that seems to keep coming at you.


And the absolute certainty of knowing everything you’re doing is not enough. Makes me wonder what my purpose is. What is my goal in life, because there has to be something better than working at this diner.


I pick up my phone when it starts to vibrate and grimace. I know I need to answer it, but I don’t want to. I know what they want. The same thing everyone wants. The one thing I don’t have enough of.


Money.


“Hello?”


“You’ve been ignoring my calls, Ms. Rains. Your father’s account is past due. The last payment made was over two months ago.” I hear her snide voice tell me on the other end of the line.


“Yes, I know. I’ve been working to get the money. Give me until the end of next week, and I can make a payment.” I say to her.


“You do understand I am doing this as a favor. We will need at least the past due amount. If that isn’t paid in full, your father will have to find other accommodations.” She tells me like she’s indeed doing me a favor and not hounding me three times a day for money.


“I understand. Thank you.”


I take a moment to feel overwhelmed and sorry for myself, then lock it away. I slide my phone back into my apron, wipe the fresh tears off my face, and rejoin the land of the living. The squeak of my worn tennis shoes on the newly waxed floors is the only thing I focus on within the throng of conversations going on around me. I don’t respond to finger snaps. Nor does my service get any better with your attitude.


I match your energy. So you decide how I’m going to act.


Is it a bad attitude? Maybe, but I’ve been working in this shithole long enough to know that smiling and shaking my ass doesn’t get me any more tips. It’s a diner close to the university. Most of the students are drunk by the time they make it in here.


Tonight, the diner is full of uneducated, well off college boys. You know the ones. They go to parties and spend money their parents send on a regular. But they never actually learn a damn thing.

Manners especially. They look like jocks. The ones who think they were handpicked for all of womankind.


“Hey, sexy! Can I get a refill on my soda?” Dumbass number three hollers.


“Sure,” I mumble.


“While you’re at it, I’ll take your phone number too. I bet those legs haven’t been spread for a decent cock for some time.” He chuckles.


I stiffen, but not from the remark. It’s the heat that now surrounds me from behind. The dark aura that I can feel like a living, breathing thing. It’s practically choking me.


“Is this how you always talk to a beautiful woman? Besides, if she wants decent cock, all she needs is me. Not a kid with big dick energy and nothing to back it up with but daddy’s money.”


I swivel around and find the man who matched the voice. My eyes widen at the sight in front of me, and I’m not the only one. These college kids haven’t said a word either. Everyone knows not to backtalk one of the Bratva, and this one’s name is Darin Acosta.
He’s an up and coming nightmare, but everyone knows he will kill for far less than talking down to a woman. He raises his brow and turns back to me.


“They’re done for the night. I need to speak with you.” He says to me.


I don’t argue and nod. He looks at the table, and all of a sudden every one of them is scrambling for their wallets and laying all the cash they have on the table. They then take off out the door before I can even give them their checks. I walk back to the front to cash their orders out.


“The money. Did they leave enough?” He asks.


“Oh, yeah. There was enough to cover everything.” I tell him.


“What about your tip?” He keeps pushing.


After covering the food, there wasn’t much left. I know I need to find another job, but this gives me the ability to get extra shifts when needed, and it's close to my father. Plus, the bus stops right out front. You sure don’t want to be walking alone in this city.


“It was a couple dollars.” I finally tell him without looking up.

But out of my peripheral vision, I watched as he reached into his pocket and set a crisp hundred on the counter. I shake my head and finally look at the handsome but deadly man.


“I can’t take that.”


“You can, and you will. Let’s call it payment for your time. I have a proposal for you.”