You Are Mine Little Sister (by Syra Tucker) novel Chapter 174

RALI

"And these rows here are for the history lovers." She pointed at the shelves for me. "I know the store is quite big. That is why it's one of the most popular on here. But with time you'll get used to everything. And if you're confused at any point, you don't forget to ask the other girlies for assistance."

"Sure. Thank you, ma'am."

"Zerali, you need to promise you you'll be good." Her kind smile stepped aside for the manager. "Over here, I don't tolerate sloppy. You know, I don't even hire people without certificates, but Marovelle has been a good woman. Hell, I can't say No to any of her requests. I'm giving you a chance because of her. Don't make me regret it."

I brightened, my fingers finding my necklace and smoothing the chain. "I do understand the length you're going for me, ma'am, and I won't take it for granted. I promise you won't regret it."

She measured me with one last look, then nodded. "Good. Come now, let me show you these records."

An hour later, I'd clocked in for real at Grandma Haini's Bookstore.

For the first couple of hours my nerves rode shotgun. I kept my smile buckled in and my hands busy. The other staff were all women—thank God—and the steady jingle of the bell brought faces and voices in waves. Most customers were girls with tote bags. The few times males walked in, I kept my distance and let the other staff handle them.

Before midday, I was starting to blend in. It got easier when I could sit in a quiet corner and read any book of my choice. Choosing to work in a bookstore was a splendid idea.

Piece by piece, my life felt like a puzzle finding its corners. For the first time in a long time, the picture it promised looked like something I wanted to keep.

****†****†

RALI

"Hello, miss. Are you... alright?" Fingers snapped in front of my face.

The sound stitched the world back together. I blinked and the blur cleared. The two paperbacks in front of me were visible again.

I looked up at the male customer in front of me. 'Which of these books do you think I should go for? I can only afford one.' That was his question, and I'd completely zoned out like he was asking me to stand naked.

"Uh...it's fine if you don't wanna answer," he said, already rescuing the books from my silence. "I guess I'll just ask someone else."

Oh, shit.

"This one." I pointed at random, just doing what I could to savage my professionalism. "I'm... I'm sorry, I was just trying to decide."

He wasn't the first male customer I'd dealt with in my first week here, but it still felt like walking across a creek on winter stones—possible, not comfortable.

"Alright. I'll go with that. Thanks." He offered a small, decent smile that let some breath back into my lungs. Thank God he wasn't offended.

I beeped the barcode, slid him the receipt. A bell chimed. He was out the door.

I exhaled deeply. You're okay, Rali. You're fine.

I got home just under an hour later. The house was empty; Marovelle and Rosaline were at the restaurant.

I peeled out of my clothes in the bedroom and padded to the bathroom, only to stop dead at the mirror. Of course. Nightly ritual. The tollbooth I had to pay to pass.

What was coming already bruised my heart, but like every other day, choice wasn't on the menu. I took off my contacts and there they were.

Green eyes. Pretty, marketable. The ones they liked.

The voices in my skull cleared their throats, ready to pick up where they'd left off. I tried to shut them down by looking elsewhere, but the turn caught my back in the glass, and my resolve buckled.

I wanted to look away, but like every night, the devil won and I was forced to stare at the marks I'd carry with me forever. The ones that'd always remind me of the lair I'd endured and escaped.

With my eyes, I charted them—From the pale slashes at my collarbone to the lattice crossing my back, down the ridgework along my waistline, and farther to the faint lines on my thighs.

'Don't worry, as long as your face and pussy stays beautiful, I don't have a problem.' That had been Blayne's stupid response the first day the Ash Twins scarred me. He hadn't cared, not with the kind of money involved. Hell, he even inflicted some marks on me himself.

Tears pooled in my eyes. My gaze kept traveling because there was more to count. It landed at last on the thick scar behind my thigh. single long slash, like a blade cut.

That was one scar I was sure I didn't get from Blayne. I knew I could've gotten it from anyone, but sometimes, I wonder: What if I'd gotten it from the Torturer?