Chapter 8

STEVIE

The back room of my shop is a sanctuary of green and fragrance. The air around the small space is rich with the scent of herbs and soil, a comforting reminder of the life I cultivate here. I move among the plants, checking their soil, watering them, and treating any signs of pests or disease. It's a labor of love, tending to my botanical children. Each plant has its own needs and personality, making it a lot of work, but work I enjoy.

I pause in front of a row of basil plants, their broad leaves vibrant and fragrant. Basil is one of my favorites—for its versatility in cooking, soothing scent, and medicinal properties. A pinch of basil can transform a dish, and a cup of basil tea can calm frayed nerves. I carefully snip a few leaves for drying, inhaling deeply. The scent takes me back to simpler times if there ever were such things for me.

Next, I move to the lavender. Its tall spikes of purple flowers sway gently as I pass. Lavender is another favorite. It's calming and can help with sleep and anxiety. I run my fingers through the blossoms, releasing a cloud of their relaxing scent. Lavender is a reminder that there can be peace, even in my chaotic life.

I continue tending to the other herbs—rosemary, with its sharp, piney fragrance; mint, cool and invigorating; and sage, with its earthy, grounding aroma. Each one has its own place in my heart and my shop. I harvest what needs to be hung up to dry, carefully tying bundles of herbs with twine and hanging them from the rafters. The sight of them, rows of green and brown drying in the warm air, reminds me of last night.

Of Lennox and his ‘ witch ' comment, bringing a small smile to my face.

He was unlike anyone I've ever met before. Rough but still tender. There was something electric about him, something that drew me in right away. Maybe it was his good looks. Because even I can admit that man is fucking hot, but it felt like more than that.

He was easily the best fuck I've had, no doubt about that. I already fucked myself to thoughts of him this morning, twice. Reliving the way he felt, the way he moved, the way he made me feel.

Maybe I should've given him my name if not for anything more than a booty call on lonely nights. Having him tend to my needs could not only save me from having to do it, but it would definitely be more fun. But thankfully, even drunk, I knew better.

Not only do I need to be careful of who I trust, but I can't afford to have any strings tying me down, not with the chance of my past coming back to haunt me. Sweet Dreams will come looking for me, and when they do, they won't just set out to hurt me. They will destroy anyone and anything they deem important to me.

It's a big part of why I never bothered looking for my parents. To them, I was considered dead a long time ago, and I don't want to be the one to cause them more pain. Coming back into their lives after so many years, risking Sweet Dreams finding me all over again and, this time, taking my parents out with me.

No, they're safer this way.

Besides, I made it this far without parents, whats the rest of my life? I was too young when I was taken; the people who took me, raised me, used me—they're all I know. And though I have scars. Trauma that people couldn't even fathom, I turned out okay in the end.

Because I got out.

I may have destroyed much of their organization in Atlanta, but it was nothing compared to their full scale. They're much bigger, and it's only a matter of time before they actually find me. I have to be ready to uproot and run again at any moment, meaning the fewer people I get close to, the better. It's already going to kill me to leave Jesse and Micah. My eyes find their way to where my friend and employee are stocking the shelves with fresh balms we made this morning.

He and his fiance are like family to me, the only family I've ever known outside of that twisted organization. Jesse, with his easy smile and comforting presence, is always ready with a joke or a helping hand made me feel so welcomed when I first moved here, when I had no one. He's also not afraid to give me a piece of his mind and tell me when I get out of line. I love him for it, even if it does drive me insane most days. Then there's Micah with his quiet other half. We might not be as close as Jesse and I, but I know when push comes to shove, I can rely on him for anything I need. They don't know the full extent of my past, but they know enough. Enough to be wary, to understand why I can't stay in one place for too long.

I don't what I'd do if something ever happened to them.

Especially if it was because of my past.

I push those thoughts aside as I head back up front, the small bell above the door tinkling as a few customers enter the shop. Jesse notices them and begins to head over, but I stop him, signaling to him I'll handle them and he can continue stocking the shelves. Besides, they're browsing, their fingers trailing over jars and bundles of herbs while they chat together. Which usually means they're just curious about the store and the overall ‘witchy" or ‘voodoo' vibes it gives off. Most likely, some tourists just want to see what that whole aesthetic of New Orleans is about but rarely actually spend any money on anything. But I put on my best customer service smile and approach them.

"Can I help you find anything?" I ask, my voice cheerful and warm.

They ask about a few different herbs, and I guide them through the uses and benefits of each. My mind, though, keeps wandering back to Lennox. His piercing sage-colored eyes, the way they seemed to see right through me. The way he made me feel like I was the only person in the world that mattered. To him, last night, I think I was. He spent his entire night focused on me, regardless of how many other easier women wanted his attention.

It's both a nice feeling and a dangerous one for me. To feel like someone could want me to fucking badly that nothing else matters to them.

After the customers leave, without purchasing anything, as I expected, I continue to tidy up the shop. Forcing thoughts of Lennox from my head, I focus on the plans I have for tonight and the little message someone sent to me. Burned into the grass outside that warehouse the other night.

I spent much of last night after Lennox left thinking about how I was going to reply or if doing so was even the right choice. I mean, it's risk, but fuck if I'm not intrigued.

There's something exciting about this little game we have going on, and even though I'm worried about Sweet Dreams finding me, I can't deny the thrill it gives me. The fire, destruction, and power I feel as the flames I started consume everything and anything I choose. It's a welcomed distraction, if nothing else, and as long as I'm careful, I can make sure that none of it traces back to me.

After all, they still haven't figured out I had anything to do with the Magnolia, so obviously, I'm doing something right.

I picked out another historic building since the last one got so much attention. I need to send a message back. Let whoever this mystery person is know that I see them, too, and I'm ready to play.

I glance at the clock. I still have a few hours before I need to close up the shop for the night. I finish tidying up and head to the back room again. The scent of the herbs calms me and grounds me the moment I round the corner. I take a deep breath, letting it fill my lungs.

My thoughts drift back to Lennox once more. Maybe it's not such a bad idea to see him again. A part of me wants to test him, see how far he's willing to go. But another part of me knows it's too risky. I can't afford to get attached, can't afford to let anyone get too close.

"Hey, do you mind if I dip out a bit early tonight? Micah's parents are in town, and he's begging me to get home in time for his mother's famous crawfish," Jesse asks as he hangs his apron on the hook on the wall.

A smile forms on my face, "Only if you bring me a doggy bag," I reply coyly.

"I make no promises," he replies, holding his hands up in surrender. "It's not very often there's leftovers when it comes to Miss Tonya's crawfish, but, I'll see what I can do,"

"Well, I guess that will suffice," I laugh, "go on, get out of here, I'm about ready to close up anyway,"

"Thanks, girl." he adds, "We're going to hit up BB again tonight if you're up for it. Might even see your new little friend, Lennox," he hints with a wiggle of his brows.

Rolling my eyes, I shove him, "Yeah, right." I laugh, "I'll pass, but you guys have a good night, alright?"

"Alright, your loss. You know where to find us if you change your mind," he shouts back over his shoulder as he heads out the front door.

Lennox.

I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. I need to focus on tonight, on the task at hand. The building won't burn itself down after all, and I mean where would the fun in that be?

As the sun sets over the Quarter, I close up the shop, locking the door behind me. The streets are quieter now, the bustle of the day replaced by the calm of the evening. The drive to my target is uneventful. I park a few blocks away from the building and grab the jerry can from the backseat before slipping into the shadows. I approach the building and find myself in awe of its beauty.

I take a moment to appreciate the architecture and the history. It's a shame, really. That buildings like this one, old and outdated sit abandoned when they could be renovated. Repurposed. Burning them doesn't make me happy, but if I didn't do it, they'd sit here, rotting until they collapse into a pile of rubble that ends up dragged off to some landfill. What I do to them always has some level of sadness, but necessary, at least that's what I tell myself.

I move quickly, pouring out the gasoline and making sure it's evenly distributed around the entire building until the jerry can is nearly empty. With the last of the gas, I write my message into the gravel in the parking lot around the back of the building.

I may not know who it is, but I will find out, and the easiest way to do that is to continue this little game. As I strike the match, I feel a rush of adrenaline, a sense of power and playfulness. I bend down, holding the match to the flammable liquid. The flame catches, spreading along the trail of accelerant quickly. I step back, watching as the fire grows, consuming the building.

The heat is intense, and the flames mesmerize. I can't help but smile as I look down at the blackened flame-covered gravel, feeling a sense of satisfaction. This is my message, my reply. I watch for a few more moments before slipping away, disappearing into the night.

As I drive back, my mind is still racing, but a part of me feels calm and at peace. The fire has a way of doing that, of cleansing, of resetting everything. Fire engulfs everything in its path, erasing the bad and the ugly and leaving room for new growth.

If only it could do the same for me.

Erase the scars, the nightmares that plague me so that I, too, could grow. Heal.

Back at my apartment, I take a quick shower, washing away the smell of smoke and ash. I collapse onto my bed, exhaustion setting in. Glancing at my clock on the bedside table, I find it's barely midnight. Grim jumps up on my bed, plopping himself down next to me with a soft meow. Rolling onto my side, I run my fingers through his soft fur while he purrs and rolls around.

My thoughts drift to Lennox once more, a soft smile forming on my lips at the memory of Grim's treatment of him in the kitchen last night. Maybe I should've gone to BB tonight. After all, what's the worse thing that could've happened?

"Well, too late now, isn't it, boy," I sigh, scratching Grim behind his fluffy ear. He meows again and nuzzles up against me.

I could be having my guts rearranged right now, but no. No, I had to go play a stupid fucking game with a stranger.

Fuck me.