Chapter 13

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A/N: Dedicated to @AmberMarcellus for daring to try something new

*****

The last clients – an elderly couple that I was fond of – left and Winnie locked the door behind them, turning the hanging sign over so that it read CLOSED. A tired sigh left her lips as she entwined her fingers together and brought her arms above her head in a stretch.

"I feel so old when my back cracks like that," she complained, separating her hands and bringing one to her neck to massage it. "What time did Rhys say he will be here?"

"Just after closing," I looked out the window towards the escalators. Several familiar faces were around but not the one I craved to see.

"Well, the tables ain't gonna clean themselves." My colleague grabbed a wipe and her tray. "I'll do the ones to the left," she pointed to the side where the majority of the tables were, "you take care of the bar and of these to the right," her hand twisted in the direction of six smaller tables, before she muttered: "Wish Tim stayed to help out, but at least he's home making me dinner."

After a few hours spent in futile attempts of brightening my mood, her fiancé had returned home with a long shopping list and an order of 'something healthy, but put some meat in it; I'm not a darn rabbit' as their last meal for the day.

"I'm already done with the bar," I noted and headed straight for the smaller group of tables with a tray in hand. I placed the cups and larger mugs on the platter and hurried to carry them to the sink at the back before returning with a towel to wipe the tables. I sighed once I returned to the main part of the café; it was still just Winnie and me there. I used my towel-free hand to reach into my pocket and take out my phone. The large digital clock said 8:07; it was almost ten minutes after closing time and he still wasn't here.

Half-heartedly, I swiped the fabric over the smooth surface of the tables, getting rid of the crumbs from the various pastries we offered; I was done by 8:13. I then repeated the process on each table, this time with a dampened cloth to get rid of the coffee stains. 8:24. Almost half an hour was definitely not what I'd call 'just after closing'; had something happened?

I moistened my lips and then got myself a small bottle of water from one of the refrigerators. The cold liquid was rough on my dry throat but managed to sooth my nerves a bit. I looked at my phone and frowned, realizing only three minutes had passed since I'd last checked. A knock on glass made me turn my gaze from the object in my hand to the door. I emitted another sigh – finally one of relief – and walked in fast strides to unlock the door, pocketing my mobile in the process.

"What happened?" I asked instead of a greeting and Rhys, who had leaned down to kiss me, sulked. He looked to the side where Winnie was overly attentive to the tables, pretending she wasn't attempting to eavesdrop, and slightly shook his head.

"I'll tell you in the car, okay? But nothing bad," he reassured in a haste, and when he bent down this time, I allowed him to peck me on the lips. "Can I help you finish up here?"

"Oh, I'll do that; you two go..." my colleague's perky voice trailed off as she realized that a minute ago, she'd been  trying to convince us that we were either out of earshot or she hadn't been paying attention to us.

"Thanks, Winnie," I said, smiling as I saw her first pucker her lips, then pull them in between her teeth to keep herself quiet. I was already untying my apron and walking to the small locker that I kept it in, along with a few other necessities such as an extra shirt.

"We can wait and drive you home," I heard Rhys' suggestion, followed by her non-hostile refusal:

"One of my neighbors works in the perfumes section; she'll give me a lift."

I got back to the main part of the café and held Rhys' hand, leading him towards the exit.

"Night, Winnie!" I wished as Rhys opened the door for us.

"Night, hun," was the last thing I heard from her before he closed it.

"I'll tell you in the car," he repeated his previous reply before I'd even gotten a chance to ask him. An annoyed growl left my lips, but I did not make any inquiries; even though it was after eight-thirty on a work day and most of the shops were closed or about to, there were still people in the mall.

We walked to his vehicle in silence, my foot producing a splash as I somehow managed to step into one of the few puddles that had yet to evaporate. I shook my right leg to get rid of the water, but it was too late; it had already soaked through my sneakers and dampened my sock.

Rhys held the door to the car opened for me and I slumped down and watched as he walked around the vehicle and got behind the wheel.

"So what happened?" I asked as soon as he closed his own door, interrupting his 'Do you want to take...' sentence.

"Nothing bad, I told you." His hand found mine and squeezed it. "I phoned Keri, then that division I told you about and they sent a team to keep an eye on him. The hunter knows they are there, so he won't try anything."

"Are they good?" I immediately posed another question. "I mean, you told me he's really good at his job so they'd have to really, really good to deal with that guy."

"They have certain... advantages," he replied vaguely and an idea struck me:

"Is anyone from the Bullets in that division?" After all, his obscure answers usually had to do something with the Bullets. Plus, Kelly was in the homicide division so it was possible for other members of their society to be in other departments.

"No." His rebuttal lessened the surge of excitement that I felt at the notion that I was starting to understand his hints and the Bullets a bit more.

"How about you take off that shoe?" He suggested, letting go of my arm to buckle up. "And the sock too; it must be wet."

I did as Rhys had proposed and he waited for me to put on my seatbelt before he drove off.

"If things are okay..." I began, making a pause for him to confirm that indeed everything was alright; he nodded. "... Then why are you picking me from work? Not that I mind, I like that," added before he could get the wrong impression, "but when I got your message, I thought that something might've gone wrong."

"Not wrong, just..." He frowned, keeping his eyes on the road. "It's been a long, troublesome day and I wanted it to end with something pleasant so I came to see you." I grinned at his reply. "I missed you, Riley."

"I missed you too," I admitted and took advantage of him stopping at a red light to lean my head on his shoulder. He twisted, planting a kiss on my hair before looking ahead again. When the yellow color shone, I got back to my previous position.

"Do you have anything to eat at your place?" He asked, slowing down as we neared a corner shop.

"Some frozen pizzas. Wanna join me for dinner?"

"Sure." The car went back to its normal pace and a few minutes and a couple of turns later we were in front of my apartment building.

"You know, Rhys, you don't have to do this every single time," I commented while putting back my sock and snicker; he'd gotten out and hurried to hold the door for me.

"I'll try not to," he laughed and his motley eyes crinkled at the corners. I couldn't help but smile; I enjoyed the sound of his laugher.

"See? I'm letting you open this one," he noted when I turned the key in the lock and placed my hand on the handle. I rolled my eyes as I pushed down and opened the front door.

"Hello, Mrs. Patterson," I greeted one of my elderly neighbors, as we passed her on the way up. The old woman hummed something in return.

"I wish there was someone to greet me when I got back," I admitted, letting Rhys walk into my apartment before me. I closed the door and threw the keys in the plastic bowl that was over the corner table before I took off my sneakers and both of my socks – it would've felt weird if I left one on – and put on a pair of slippers. "You know, like a person or at least a dog or a cat," I went on, going into the bathroom to discard my socks in the laundry basket.

"Dogs are better," the inevitable response came as soon as I'd said that. "But yes, it is good to have someone waiting for you." He was just taking his jacket off and placing it on the hanger next to mine when I got out.

"Do your parents always come home before you?" I asked, leading the way into the kitchen section of the room. I turned on the sink and washed my hands, leaving the water flowing so Rhys could do the same.

"Not always." He squirted some of the liquid soap on his hands. "But we all gather for dinner. Sometimes Everett and Lisa come over too."

"Have you ever thought about getting your own place?" I opened the freezer and took two round pizzas out, making a mental note to go shopping; all that was left here was a chicken leg and an almost empty pack of peas. I heard him turn off the water.

"I already have a house," he announced, as he wiped his hands in the towel that hung by the sink. "It needs some renovations and furnishing – I have very basic stuff in it like a bed and sinks, and toilets – but it can be made livable in a couple of weeks."

"So how come you don't live there?" I placed the now unpacked pizzas in a pan and put them in the oven; the light went on when I turned the switch.

"I will," he replied with a shy smile. "When I find a... partner. To be honest, the idea of living alone terrifies me. Do you have more of the tart cherry juice?"

"Yeah, at the fridge door," I spoke fast, wanting to get back to the previous topic. "When you say a partner, you mean a boyfriend, not a roommate?"

"Of course. That's why it has a master bedroom with a double bed and two smaller ones that can be made into children rooms. There are two larger bathrooms with a toilet in each and one smaller with just a shower. It's also the reason I wanted a yard; it's not like I'll be making a garden." He closed the refrigerator. "The tall glasses were in the top counter, right?"

"All glasses are in there; not much room for stuff in this apartment," I muttered. I suddenly felt ashamed. I realized it was silly to compare my tiny property with Rhys', but I always told him I was doing fine and that he didn't need to leave me such large tips. Yet here I was in a tiny two-room apartment – three, if you counted the bathroom – with its tiny kitchen section and the tiny fridge, and three tiny counters and the normal-sized oven in which too tiny pizzas were cooking. Rhys had a yard; I didn't even have a balcony.

"Would you like to see it sometime?" A hand clasping a glass of red juice entered my line of vision. I took what was offered and gulped down half the liquid. "The house, I mean. Would you like to see it, Riley?"

"Sure," I replied, faking a smile before I emptied my glass. His eyebrows furrowed and he placed his drink on my table – my tiny table – before he took a step towards me.

"What's wrong?" He wasn't even asking if anything was wrong; he just knew something was off.

"It's not much of an apartment," I waved my hand vaguely to distract him from the way my voice cracked. I had wished before that I could afford more, but I had seldom I felt as embarrassed of my financial state as I was now.

"So?" He took the empty glass off my hands and placed it next to his before he intertwined our fingers. "You are only eighteen, Riley, and it's not like you can depend on support from your family. I think you've done well, especially considering what you've been through."

"Really?" My voice was still hoarse.

"You have your own apartment, you have a stable job, you have good friends... What's not to be proud of?" The last words were whispered next to my lips and I closed my eyes, anticipating the kiss. He didn't make me wait long for that. I smiled when his mouth covered mine. Rhys was getting better at this; his kisses no longer seemed clumsy or somewhat hesitant and just seconds of gentle sucking on my lower lip made me forget all about my stupid apartment.

"Rhys," I placed my hands over his chest when he pulled away; my voice was raspy for a completely different reason now. "I'd like to see that house," I said and this time I meant it.

"Maybe," he gave me one of his nervous smiles and licked his lips. "Maybe, you could come over at my current house for dinner sometime soon and we can take a walk afterwards to my unfurnished house? It's nearby. Plus, mom and dad still want to meet you... When you want to; when it's not too soon and..." he hurried to suffice, but I interrupted him, even more nervous than he was:

"What if they don't like me, Rhys?"

His first reaction was to giggle, but then he cleared his throat and adopted an apologetic look.

"Trust me, Riley, that's not possible."
"But what if..." He placed a finger over my mouth to hush me.

"Not possible," he repeated sternly. "I know my parents, Riley, and I know you; you can break my mom's favorite vase and set dad's tool shed on fire and they'd still love you. You are a good person, Riley, and that's what matters to them."

"You sure?" I looked up to him through my eyelashes.

"Yes, I'm sure." There was not an ounce of doubt in his tone and I let out a copious amount of air I didn't realize I'd been storing in my lungs.

"So when do you want to do this?" I questioned, wiping my sweaty palms in my jeans.

"The dinner? You-you mean the dinner with my parents?" Rhys actually stuttered and I couldn't decide which was larger: his eyes or his smile.

"Yes, Rhys, the dinner with your parents. When can we do that?"

*****

A/N: I'm really starting to worry that their relationship develops too quickly even though I've known my boyfriend for a week before we started dating and it took him just a couple of weeks to introduce me to his mom... What do you think? IS THE DINNER WITH THE PARENTS TOO SOON?

Also, do you think those people from the special division are going to be able to put the hunter in his place?

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