Somebody was pounding on the door. Not like Judas’ knock from yesterday, but more loud and demanding. Ana rose from the couch, rubbing her bleary eyes and trying to remember what happened last night.

She had stayed on the couch after the brothers had left. She had planned on staying awake in case Judas tried to come back and harass her some more, but she must’ve fallen asleep at some point. She was exhausted from the night before, when she only got an hour of sleep.

The loud knocking started again, and she rose from the couch. “Alright, I’m coming! Fuck,” She walked into the hallway and yanked the door open.

Deacon was on the other side, hand raised to knock again. He was dressed in an old band t-shirt and faded blue jeans. He looked as if he crawled out of bed and hadn’t bothered to fix his appearance.

He beamed a smile at her. “You’re still alive! Was your phone broke? You didn’t respond to my messages or calls.”

Ana ran a hand through her hair. “I was busy yesterday, and then I fell asleep on the couch. What do you want?”

He shrugged with that same stupid smile on his face. “I thought to check in on ya. Is that a crime?”

Ana sighed and rubbed her eyes. “I don’t know, Deacon. It’s too early for you.”

“Well, it is actually…” He checked his watch. “Two in the afternoon.”

She shrugged. “Whatever. You checked up on me. I’m fine. Do you need anything else?”

He considered her for a moment, tilting his head. Ana knew that look on his face. He was about to ask her something he knew she might not agree to.

“Why don’t I make coffee for you?” He asked.

Ana was silent for a moment, considering his question. I want him out of my hair as soon as possible, but I can’t turn down coffee.

She didn’t say a word to him, but left the door open as she turned and walked away.

“So…that’s a yes?” Deacon called out to her.

“I’m taking a shower.”

—_—

Ana walked down the stairs, a fresh set of clothes on and her wet hair tied into a dutch braid. Deacon was at the kitchen table, reading the newspapers she had forgot to throw away. A steaming cup of coffee was across from him. She took the cup of coffee and took a sip, wincing at the bitter taste.

“So, what had you so busy yesterday that you missed my calls?” Deacon asked as she went to the fridge and grabbed the carton of milk.

“I was cleaning, and then I had a friend visit.” She filled the coffee with milk, almost to the brim. “I don’t check my phone all the time. You’re not my first priority, you know.”

He fake-gasped. “Oh, I’m wounded! How will I ever recover from this heartbreak?” He clutched his heart, a shocked looked on his face. Ana rolled her eyes before dropping a few sugar cubes into her coffee.

“Charming.” She sipped her coffee.

They sat in silence for a few minutes as Ana drank her coffee. Deacon read the newspaper, or at least seemed to be. His finger messed with the corner of the page as his eyes roved over the paper. He looked up at Ana when she was halfway done with her coffee.

“Got any plans for today?”

The cup stopped close to her lips as she raised an eyebrow in suspicion. “No…why?”

“We could go to the diner and eat. You haven’t eaten anything yet, have you?”

Ana didn’t answer him at first, sipping her coffee as she thought. Lunch with Deacon means hearing him talk about himself for an hour…but it’s also free food. Can’t turn down a free burger at Motty’s Diner.

“Motty’s Dinner?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re paying?”

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

“Yes.”

Ana sighed. She downed the last of her coffee and wiped her mouth. “Fine. Let’s go.”

—_—

Another bump, and Ana hit her head on the window for the third time. She grumbled and rubbed the side of her head. “You could drive a little slower, you know.”

“I’m going the speed limit, relax.” Deacon replied, one hand on the steering and the other hanging out the window.

Ana rested her head on the headrest instead of the window. “It’s the bumps, not the speed.”

He didn’t reply, but continued driving the same speed as if to only annoy her more. The same man who asked her lunch was now annoying the hell out of her.

Another bump, and she was again jostled in her seat. Something popped and hit her knees, and she looked down to see the glove box had been popped open.

“Ah, shit. It does that a lot. Just shut it closed.”

Ana went to shut it, but something caught her eye. An envelope that didn’t look like it carried the average bill or bank letter. It was an off-white color, with a broken yellow wax seal. She grabbed it and examined it, turning it over in her hand. It was addressed to Deacon, from somebody with the same last name as him, Carbonneau. On the center was a strange symbol, a circle with intricate lines and marks crisscrossing each other.

“What a fancy water bill,” Ana teased, waving the envelope in the air.

Deacon glanced at the letter she was holding, returning his eyes to the road before snatching it out of her hand and stuffing it back in the glove box. He slammed it shut.

“Not a fancy water bill?” She pressed.

He shrugged. “Just a letter from my family. Just boring family stuff, you know?”

“It was opened. Who reads letter in their truck?” She crossed her arms and gave him an incredulous look.

“I have a PO box in town. I read them as soon as I get them. It’s not that serious, Ana.” He turned the blinker on before turning into the diner parking lot. “If I wanted somebody to nag me about my mail, I would’ve gotten a wife.”

She sighed and rolled her eyes, unbuckling her seat belt as he parked. “Please do. I wouldn’t have to deal with you anymore.”

—_—

Ana’s prediction was right. He did talk about himself the entire time. Ana had only said five words for the thirty minutes they were there. He talked about random things about his family, his travels, and bragged senselessly about his university days. He dropped out when he decided to travel across the United States instead, something Ana decided was a big mistake.

After another humble-bragging story about a university frat party, Ana downed the last of her lemonade and rose from the booth. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

“But…I wasn’t finished with my story, I was just getting to the good part!” Deacon whined as she walked by.

“Talk to yourself, then.”

After her business was done in the restroom, she dried her hands and went to leave. As as she stepped outside, her phone began to ring in her pocket. She sighed and pulled it out, grumbling at the name on her screen. She accepted the call and held the phone to her ear. “Hi, mom.”

“Ana! How are you?”

She sat down at the bar, not wanting Deacon hear her talk with her mother. “I’m fine. I can’t talk for long.”

“That’s fine, I just wanted to check up on you. I felt like something was off, so I decided to call you.” Her mother sounded distant on the phone, as if she wasn’t really concentrated on the conversation.

“Oh. Well, I’m fine. Have you spoken with father? Is that why you’re concerned?”

“Oh, no. I haven’t spoken to him. I just felt concerned. Call it my…maternal instincts.” She replied before yawning.

“Oh.” Ana leaned over in her seat to look at Deacon, who was still chowing down on his steak contently. “I’m just having lunch with some guy. Have you slept since you got off work? You sound tired.”

“Oh! What’s his name? Am I ever going to meet him?” She ignored her question, and Ana sighed.

“Listen, momma. I have to go. I’ll call you later, okay?” Ana murmured when Deacon turned around to look for her.

Silence from the other end. Did I upset her?

“…Is it only a date, then? Maybe that’s good. Your father wouldn’t like anything more.”

“..Yeah.” Ana numbly replied as she got off the stool, Deacon’s cold grey eyes still on her. “I gotta go.”

“Alright, then. I love you, Ana-Girl.”

Ana hung up the phone and returned to the booth. Deacon glanced at her as she passed him, taking a sip of his drink. “Who was that?”

“My mother.” She sat down and popped a fry in her mouth.

“Oh. You can answer somebody else’s calls, but not mine?” He asked. He said it in a playful manner, but underneath that joyful tone was a hint of an accusation.

“It’s my mother. Don’t act jealous.” Ana bit back before eating the last of her burger. “It makes you look ugly.”

“I was just joking!” He beamed one of his annoying smiles at her, but she did not return it.

—_—

The truck was silent on their way back to Ana’s house. Not even the radio was on, which was unnatural considering Deacon’s habit of having background music on at all times.

Deacon had pestered Ana to come back to his home and spend the rest of the day there, where they could watch movies and order takeout for dinner. Ana declined, saying she had plants and a pet to take care of. He had insisted, to which she said he could either take her home like a gentlemen or she could find another way home. He settled for taking her home, but he was now giving her the silent treatment. She was content with that, at least.

She thought about the letters in the glove box again. She knew little of his rich and prestigious family, despite his numerous stories about his rambunctious childhood and wild teenage years he never actually said what they did for a living, only that they were scientists. Now that she thought of it, what kind of American scientists had a family crest that they put on letters sent to their own son? She could look, just for a moment. Just to satisfy her curiosity.

While Deacon was making a left turn and had his head turned away from her, she pulled open the glove box and took the envelope that was on top of the others. She pulled out the letter and started reading.

Deacon Carbonneau,

In regards to your occupation as—

The letter and envelope were ripped out of her hands and stuffed back into the glove box. The lid was slammed closed and Deacon’s hand returned to the steering wheel. “You’ve been quite nosy lately.”

She crossed my arms and looked away. “Only curious. Your family concerned about you having a part-time job as a small town grocery store employee?”

He was silent as he drove down the long, dark road to her house. After a tense minute, he cleared his throat. “It’s just boring family stuff, is all. They want me to…hurry my career goal.”

“Of what? Becoming a store manager?” She glanced at him.

He smirked slightly, eyes still on the road. “Something like that.”

He turned into her driveway and Ana unbuckled her seat belt as he pulled up to her house. The bright lights of the truck shone on the front of the house, and the patio was empty. Usually, Jazzy would be sitting next to the door and waiting for her to let her in for dinner. It was unusual for her to be absent during this time of the evening.

The truck stopped and Ana put her hand on the handle just before a hand grabbed her chin and roughly turned it towards Deacon. Their faces were nose-to-nose, and Ana formed her hand into a fist, ready to knock his teeth out if he tried anything. He didn’t fortunately, and instead looked her up and down and smiled.

“You let me spend the night, and I’ll tell you all about my family.” He whispered, in the kind of voice only men have when they want to swoon a women. It never worked on Ana. It always made him sound like a jerky frat boy, a title that fit him so well. It was almost tempting, as she was curious about his family but not enough to sleep with him. That thought made her skin crawl.

She moved her chin out of his hands and pushed the door open. “I think I have better things to do. Maybe next time, Deacon.”

She hopped out of the seat and slammed the door shut. Deacon hadn’t said a single word to her, and she didn’t wait for an answer. She stormed up the steps of her porch as he reversed his truck. She unlocked the door and entered, slamming it shut behind her. As his bright truck lights eventually faded away and left her in the dark but comforting abode, she sighed and rested her back on the door. She starting to become tired of him. Maybe a few weeks ago she would’ve accepted his proposition, but the past week had left her feeling more stressed than ever.

She dropped her purse near the door and stormed through the hallway, kicking off her shoes as she went. Jazzy was in the kitchen, sleeping on the counter, knowing full well she wasn’t allowed on the marble surface. Ana let her be just for this night and instead opened the fridge. Her hand moved to grab a can of beer, but on second thought opened the freezer and grabbed the bottle of whiskey in the back. She left the kitchen without a cup, content to drink straight from the bottle for the rest of the night.