Inside the EMPLOYEES ONLY corridor, Jessamine took one deep breath, two. Somehow, she'd dragged herself back into the building, but was foggy and flimsy in her movements, and doubted she'd last three seconds out in the shop serving customers. She had half a mind to knock on Chad's door—to the office she had keys to, as assistant manager, but he locked himself in it anyway—and ask him if she could take the rest of the day off. But Chad would look her up and down, ask her if it was "that time of the month", and tell her to deal with it.

She loved working at Common Grounds, but hated Chad.

After fixing her hair—from the employee bathroom mirror she noticed it was matted to her forehead and face, as if she'd just come out of water—and putting on another lather of deodorant, she braved out into the shop, bracing for the worst.

And the worst came in the form of Avery, who hadn't left, to her dismay. He'd been seated with Jamie, huddling over that map again. But as if smelling her entrance, he turned to see her coming in and didn't waste a moment before storming up to her.

She hurried behind the counter before he could get too close—she'd seen his videos, and he could get volatile.

"What?" She snarled at him as he approached and set a curled fist on the counter.

"What?" He snorted. "What, she asks? Are you serious?" His eyebrows, that she'd noticed were bushy but tended to, shot up. "You say something like that and rush off and you expect me to accept it?"

She shrugged, feigning nonchalance. He was the type of guy who'd play with her words, turn them against her, she knew; the less she said, the less she admitted to, the better.

"Avery," said Jamie, bustling over and grabbing one of Avery's shoulders with a big, burly hand. "Dude, leave her alone, okay?"

Avery smacked his hand off, then nudged him with his elbow. He rolled up his sleeves, revealing a few obscure tattoos scrolled across his brown skin; a tableau of flowers and skulls in shades of navy and auburn. Jessamine fixed on the design, intrigued, but also doing her best to avoid Avery's gaze.

"No. You heard what she said; it was a threat, right?" She sensed him staring her down as he pressed his other hand onto the counter, leaning into it, as if about to push it out of the way, to be closer to Jessamine. "You know where the place is and you're protecting it."

Jamie folded his arms, and though he'd seemed ready to speak, he chose not to, keeping to the background. He, too, had a certain confusion about him, an air of conflict in his half-movements, his half-help to give Jessamine space. He peered at Avery, squinted, then at Jessamine, with a brief look that said sorry, but he's right.

"I don't know where it is," said Jessamine, glancing towards the shop door, begging for patrons to come in so she could be busy assisting them instead of facing Avery. Sadly, no one came. The place was mostly empty, but for an elderly couple near the bookshelves, too ensconced in their reading to interfere were things to become worse. "I gave you the wrong impression, but I... it was a scary video, that place spooked me, and I figured it should spook you, too."

"Of course it does!" Avery's voice raised in volume, its intensity reverberating down Jessamine's neck. "But why were you so defensive of it, if you've never been there? Is it because of Amy?" His jaw tightened; she was concentrated on the back of the room, but still she caught his facial muscles contracting and his mouth twitching. "Did you know her? Tell me, because I'm not going to stop nagging you until you do. I'm not fucking around here."

Jessamine's arms were pressed to her side, but she sensed her fists tightening, her shoulders tensing. Her throat was raw, scratchy; she should have taken that water bottle from her mom's car and drained it. Something deep within her—like a growled whisper, a suppressed urge—told her to scream at Avery, to slap him, to ban him from the shop.

But that wasn't her; she wasn't physically violent, not even verbally, if she could help it. So what was it about this man, and the house and forest that he kept referring to, that brewed all this negativity inside her?

"I told you, I saw that video on TV, and it freaked me out. The area looks dangerous, and I think you shouldn't try to find that house, that's all." She gulped, tried to relax her fists. "I have a bad vibe."

"Bad vibe?" Avery scoffed, then cocked his head. "Are you like, psychic or something?" He stilled, widened his eyes, then narrowed them into a glare. "I thought you didn't like the paranormal, didn't believe in it?"

Jessamine returned his glare without issue; oh, his eyes were pretty, a dazzling blue that would have captivated and entranced her in any other situation. But if he was trying to be menacing, if he was hoping to toy with her words, as she'd thought he would, she wouldn't let him win. This was her turf, her job, her city; if he wanted to bully innocent people, he'd have to find somewhere else to bring his pessimism.

"Can I not have a bad feeling about a place?" A chill—the thousandth one that day—rippled up her spine. "Who said this was paranormal?"

"You didn't have to." Avery rubbed at his scalp—shaved low, leaving little more than half an inch of shiny black hair on the surface—and shook his head. "Something's wrong with you, and it's linked to," he waved vaguely at her, "all this. Everything I came here for. Amy, her video—you're too weird about them."

"Dude, stop." Jamie took Avery's arm. Though Avery fought him off, Jamie was bigger than him—and Avery wasn't a small guy, buff and tall, and clearly not afraid to engage in heated arguments. "Take a step back, yeah? You're coming to conclusions." His grip was firm on Avery's arm. Avery kept seeking to break free from him, but Jamie held on tight. "Coincidences do exist, okay? Yeah, it's weird that her attitude changed when you mentioned Amy and the forest and stuff, but... we don't know her. She said she was freaked out—you and I both know how people say stupid shit when they're scared."

"Ugh." Avery, with one last powerful yank, freed himself from Jamie. "No, you don't get it! I'm telling you, something is up with her, I feel it, I fucking feel it my bones, man. You know my hunches, you've never questioned them before."

"I..." Jamie peered towards Jessamine and winced. "I don't question them. But I also think," he returned to Avery and raised his hands as if to seize Avery's shoulders and stabilize him, "she's not a part of this. Some people... get all strange when confronted with this stuff. You and I, we're experts, yeah? She's not. Leave her alone." Jamie's temperament and voice were so calm, so soothing compared to Avery's. He gave the impression that outbursts like these were regular, and that he knew how to handle them.

Avery shoved him, hard. Jamie stumbled a few steps backward, knocking into a chair that he quickly took hold of before it collapsed.

"What the fuck?" As Jamie straightened up, he glowered at Avery—the first sign of irritation Jessamine had seen in him since their appearance at the shop days before. "Since when do you get all testy with me, asshole?"

"Since this involves Amy, asshole," said Avery, his tone clipped, his back muscles so taut they showed through his shirt. "Why aren't you reacting more, huh? You care about her too, probably more than I do! And this woman," he didn't look at Jessamine, but pointed a finger at her, "knows something!"

Jessamine parted her lips and prepared to remind him once more that no, she didn't know anything—but he spun to her again and the fire in his gaze, the desperation in his demeanor hadn't diminished. He wasn't done, and he wasn't leaving.

"I don't get it, and I can't explain it, but something is off about you, something I've never felt in anyone else before." His voice was leveled, but the strain of his body, like a blockade on the verge of exploding, told Jessamine not to have any faith that his eruption was over yet.

"Well, that's wildly far-fetched and pretty inappropriate, considering you've never met me before. Who's to say I'm not always like this?" Jessamine's lower lip trembled; with fear or frustration, she couldn't tell. Avery provoked so many sensations in her she couldn't make sense of her thoughts.

She still wanted to strangle him—or that ominous growl in the back of her head did, at least—but she also wanted to run off, to go outside, to breathe in and out and wish these feelings away. She'd somehow not gotten all sweaty, but the dreaded nausea was building in her gut and the constant chills down her spine were getting closer and closer together, signaling another round of convulsive shivers.

"G-good luck on your investigation," she said, meaning to walk away, to break off this conversation before Avery—or she—got aggressive again. "Especially if you think talking to people the way you do will get you any answers!"

Likely realizing he'd spooked her, Avery backed off and unclenched his fists that had been progressively curling, his knuckles turning white. He set one hand on the counter and used the other to scratch his forehead.

"I'm not going to apologize," he said, voice lowered. "Because I sensed something when our fingers touched the other day, when you gave me my coffee. Didn't you? I," he jabbed a finger to his chest, "believe in the paranormal, and that shit... that contact... it wasn't normal."

Jessamine's stomach did a back-flip or two, and she stopped herself before emitting a gasp; one that would have proven to Avery that yes, she had felt that weirdness, that awkward electricity that had sent her outside to dry-heave and have a panic attack. If she confessed to it, though, it would only worsen the situation, intensify his need to interrogate her. If she confessed to experiencing something abnormal—she would not call it paranormal, no—he'd jump on the occasion and there'd be no escape but running away. And if she ran—would he run faster? Would he follow her to her apartment? How adamant was he on proving that she had something to do with Amy's disappearance?

"Fuck no," she said, sneering. "I didn't sense anything. Why are you harassing me, you perv?"

Footsteps behind her—a sound that would have, any other day, startled her—signaled an arrival from the EMPLOYEES ONLY hallway. Chad—she smelled him before he settled next to her, an overwhelming manly musk, as he called it; pungent pine and notes of cinnamon and spice.

"What's going on here?" Hands on his hips, the owner and manager of Common Grounds stood beside Jessamine, staring at Avery, but not threateningly. More like assessing him, figuring out how to become friends with him.

Ever the toxic type, Chad wouldn't rescue Jessamine, she knew. But his arrival would divert the attention from her, and she'd have a chance to make her getaway.

That didn't mean she wouldn't try to get Chad to step in and defend her, for once in his damned life.

"This customer is using language and showing aggression," said Jessamine, addressing Chad though she scowled at Avery, who'd perked up like a soldier at the sight of his commander. "I'd like you to ask him and his friend to leave."

She heard a faint "hey, I was being nice!" from Jamie, but Chad's presence and voice overshadowed him. Chad wasn't a tall or imposing man in the slightest. There was nothing distinctly remarkable about him, nothing making him handsome, nor anything crippling about his physique. A basic, trucker-hat wearing, grossly charming dude who made Jessamine recoil.

"Language, maybe, but that's his style, isn't it, man?" Chad's face lit up as he reached over the counter—to shake Avery's hand. "I fucking love your show!"

Jessamine all but groaned at this; of course Chad watched that stupid program, and of course he was stoked Avery was in the shop. Could it get worse?

Avery, though drained of enthusiasm seconds before, grasped Chad's hand and shook it. "Uh, yeah, thanks, man. Love your, uh," he flinched, "shop. Good coffee."

Chad beamed, taking the credit for the coffee that he didn't make, and the maintenance of the shop that he didn't oversee. "Appreciate your visit!" He switched to Jessamine, and his expression changed so fast, it prompted Jessamine to side-step. "Remember those security cameras I installed? Yeah, I saw the whole thing. He wasn't being aggressive, you're overreacting."

Jessamine bit her tongue and used every ounce of her remaining energy to not roll her eyes.

Typical—agree with the dude because you didn't perceive the vibe he was giving me through your stupid little cameras.

"He's a paying customer." Chad jutted his chin toward where Avery and Jamie's coffees were sitting on the table with the map still sprawled across it. "And he's a celebrity. We don't kick celebrities out."

Jessamine choked on her retort of "he's not a real celebrity, only YouTube famous," opting to keep it to herself. Now wasn't the time to talk back; Chad was flexing, using his authority, trying to seem cool. He wouldn't back down.

"So, as long as he doesn't physically harass you, and there's no proof on the cameras, then he can stay. In fact," Chad elbowed Jessamine out of the way, so he could take over the register—the only thing he did know how to do—and glimpsed Avery, "want something else? Another drink? A pastry? On the house."

Avery didn't get smug, as Jessamine would have expected. If anything, he appeared uncomfortable, a bit fidgety as he opened and closed his mouth, hesitant to reply. He'd been interrupted—that had thrown off his balance and broken his momentum. Which Jessamine had wanted; this was her excuse to get away.

"Oh, by the way," Chad grabbed her wrist before she scurried off, "after you're done making whatever Mr. Boomer orders, there's a call on hold in my office. A stray needs to be picked up."

Jessamine ripped from his grasp and seethed. "Sure, I'll take the details, and you can go pick them up, since I no longer can, remember?"

"Huh?" Chad, bewildered by Avery's presence, had apparently lost a few brain cells, and gawked at her as if he'd never seen or met her before. And also as if he'd forgotten why she no longer worked on his rescue stray animals mission. "Why not?"

"Because," she gritted her teeth and leaned in close, wrinkling her nose at Chad's invasive cologne, "I can't handle animals since the accident, remember? They growl at me, don't like me."

"Oh." Chad snapped out of whatever trance he'd been in, then waved at the coffee machines. "Yeah, sure, fine, wait for the order, then."

She locked eyes with Avery one last time, and saw him mouth, "accident?" with an inquisitive look on his face.

She shook her head and hid behind the coffee machine; that was none of his damn business.

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