Page 137 of Split You Open

This is the life I want.

Twenty-Nine

Santiago

“Fuck, yes! Finally,” I mutter as a plethora of names begin rolling down my screen. “Firewall is officially broken. Now to cross reference⁠—”

The door to the back office of The Shop opens and a curly redhead sticks their head in. I cringe before the guy opens his mouth, knowing what’s coming.

“Hey Santi, there are like a billion customers here today,” Charlie squeaks out. “I need some help. Mind giving me a hand?”

Fuck, that voice.

It’s like his balls not only didn’t drop, but his vocal cords have been exchanged for a dog squeak toy.

Man, why did I hire this kid?

Oh yeah, because I thought his weird, squeaky voice was funny at the time.

It’s not so funny after listening to it for a year.

“Ah, what? Oh.” Work, I forgot about that. “Yeah, I’ll be right out.”

“Thanks, boss!” Charlie squeaks out before ducking back out of the office.

Quickly, I shoot a text to the others, letting them know I’ve made some progress this afternoon with figuring out who sent these drones. When I’m done, I shove my phone back into my pocket and head up front.

Charlie’s right.

It is busy today.

Given that it’s Friday, I guess that makes sense. People are getting ready to do chores and projects around their houses this weekend. Still, it does feel busier than usual. It’s not until an hour or so later that I realize why.

“Excited for the Fall Festival next Friday?” Ryan asks as I check him out.

I freeze, surprised. “Oh, actually, I totally forgot about it.”

The fire chief chuckles. “You forgot? I swear, Santi, you get more excited about this festival than anyone else in this town.”

“Huh… things have just been busy around here, I guess,” I mutter.

Caddawalk’s Fall Festival is something I typically look forward to. It used to be one of the few places Rhett wouldn’t mind going. He typically just stuck around the Gnarly Pines booth to help referee the wood chopping competition but sometimes I managed to lure him away to try some new food or check out the band or even play a game or two.

This year, I don’t think it’s wise for him or Blair to go.

My heart sinks.

I guess there’s always next year.

“Yeah? Well, hopefully things slow down for you all,” Ryan says, not noticing my mood plummeting. “Tell Ledger I say hi, will you? He seems to be MIA a lot these days—I’m starting to miss the old bastard.”

I nod. “Will do. Take care.”

Ryan waves as he turns and leaves with his bag of nails and screws. Forcing myself to plaster on a smile, I brace myself to greet the next customer.

When the man steps up, I swear the temperature in The Shop plummets and the air becomes thinner. While there’s nothing outwardly threatening about him, there’s this weird, instinctual urge to shrink away from this guy.

Suppressing a shiver, I meet the man’s sharp gaze and greet him like I do everyone else.