Dark Side of the Cloth by Brooklyn Cross
Dean was coming, and Yasmine couldn’t sit still. It was like bees had infested her body and were crawling under her skin.
She looked at herself in the mirror that hung in the hallway and smoothed down the invisible wrinkles of her dress. They were going to Mabel’s, so it wasn’t exactly what one would call a romantic date, but it didn’t matter.
Dean had admitted to having feelings for her.
And she was still feeling giddy over the fact that she’d had to wipe the smile off her face as she passed by a group of busy bodies that were waiting to speak to Dean after his mass. She knew for certain that they had been gossiping about Dean and her being alone in the church together.
Yasmine glanced at the grandfather clock that was slowly ticking in the corner. His service started at five—Dean would be here any minute! She quickly applied a little lip gloss to her already rosy lips and squeezed her long curls, trying to keep the unruly locks looking tidy.
Then, she made her way toward the closet when the doorbell rang. It seemed strange for Dean to ring a doorbell. She was so used to him coming in and marching down the stairs to talk to her about an upcoming service.
“Come in. It’s open!” She pulled open the closet doors at the same time the front door opened. The first thing to assault her senses was the subtle scent of Dean’s cologne. He was the only one in the town that wore it. She had no idea what it was, but it made her smile and feel warm all over.
She pulled out the nicest dress coat she owned from the closet and turned around. As her eyes found his, she pulled in a sharp breath. The beautiful man that stood before her looked relaxed and deadly—there was an intoxicatingly dangerous aura to him that made her pulse race.
“You look beautiful, Yasmine.”
“Yazzy.”
“Pardon?” Dean held out his hand to help her with her coat.
“Those that are close to me call me Yazzy. I think it’s time I enforced the same name policy that you have when it’s just the two of us.” She turned to face Dean, pulling the long hair out from her coat and letting it purposely cascade in waves around her shoulders. She loved the way he looked at it, his eyes giving away that he was interested in more than a simple meal and coffee at Mabel’s.
“I guess fair is fair.” Dean smiled, and her insides melted into a pile of mushy goo. He stepped in close, his hand sinking into the long waves at the back of her neck. “I want to kiss you, but I may not stop if I start.”
“Then, as much as I’d like that, we better wait until we are back from Mabel’s. Hopefully, we will have gotten a few things straight between us.” Yasmine shocked herself with her answer, and the corner of Dean’s lip pulled up in a small grin.
“I think you may be right.” Dean reached for the door and opened it for her to walk through. “Do you think it would look inappropriate if you took my arm?”
“That does sound very scandalous for this small town, but the sidewalks are a touch slippery.” She tapped her chin. “I think it would look like you were being a proper gentleman.”
Dean held out his elbow to her, a hint of humor playing on his lips. “Shall we?”
They took turns telling stories from their day, and she smiled and laughed more than she had in a very long time. There were very few people out as they wandered down the street toward Mabel’s, and this was the first time she felt truly relaxed with Dean. Maybe it was the banter or that she’d slipped so far down the rabbit hole that she stopped caring about what was morally right. Regardless she felt calm, and no one was going to ruin that for her tonight.
She started up the path to the diner when Dean grabbed her arm and pulled her to a stop. She looked up at his face and barely recognized the man before her. His eyes were hard with a seriousness she’d never seen. His eyes flicked back and forth as he scanned the front of the diner. Yasmine turned and looked at the windows and noticed only then the place was mostly in darkness. She looked at her watch to be sure they hadn’t somehow run too late, but Mabel didn’t close until ten, so they still had plenty of time.
There was a loud crash from inside, and Dean gripped her arm harder, almost painfully. “Stay here!”
He jogged away, not giving her time to answer. Yasmine wrapped her arms around herself as she watched Dean pull open the front door.
“Get down,” Dean yelled as he ducked and the front glass door exploded outwards. Yasmine screamed and dropped to the ground with the sound of a gun going off again.
Her face was pressed to the snowy sidewalk, but she managed to turn her head to see if Dean was alright, just as he slipped in through the broken door. What was going on with this town?
Oh no—Mabel!
Not worrying about her own wellbeing Yasmine ran for the front door and yanked it open, the little chime ringing out. One of the old saloon doors that lead to the kitchen was hanging at an odd angle, giving her a clear view of Dean and a shadowed figure struggling in the kitchen. They disappeared out of sight, and another shot rang out. She let out a scream and dropped to the floor to crawl around the counter on her hands and knees and almost knocked herself out on the open cash register drawer.
“Ow!” She rubbed her forehead and then spotted a body lying behind the counter.
“No, no, no.” Yasmine scampered toward the figure lying too still on the floor. Blood was beginning to pool around Mabel, and a knife was deeply embedded in her stomach.
“Oh my god, no. Mabel, I’m here.” She glanced around and grabbed a tea towel lying in a ball on the floor, and twisted it into a donut shape. Her hands were shaking uncontrollably. A loud crash from behind her had her leaning over Mabel, trying to protect her body.
“Dean! Anyone, help! Help me!”
Sliding the makeshift compress down over the blade, careful not to move it, she pressed down, trying to stop the bleeding. The saloon door slammed open, and she screamed and ducked again.
“It’s okay. It’s just me.” Dean squatted down and gave her a gentle nudge with his shoulder. “Let me take care of the wound. You call 911.”
Yasmine didn’t move. She just stared at Mabel’s pale face.
“I can’t lose you too,” she broke down, the tears taking over as reality set in.
“Yasmine…Yazzy!” Her head whipped around to Dean. Focused on his eyes, she pulled herself out of the hysterical fog surrounding her. “She needs help now. I’ve got the wound. Call 911, now.” Dean’s calm, commanding voice had her moving into action. She stuffed her hand into her pocket and pulled out her phone. Yasmine pressed the emergency button, her nerves so frazzled she couldn’t remember her passcode.
“911, what’s your emergency?” The voice answered on the second ring.
“I’m at Mabel’s diner, and she’s been attacked. Oh my god, is the attacker still here?” She looked to Dean, and he shook his head no.
“Is the attacker still on sight?”
“No, he says no.”
“Who says no?”
“What the fuck does it matter who? Send me an ambulance!”
“Please try to remain calm, ma’am.”
Yasmine sucked in a sharp breath, ready to reach through the phone and shake the person on the other end. “This is my calm. The closest thing I have to a mother is on the floor dying! So don’t tell me to remain calm.”
Dean grabbed her shoulder, and she looked into his worried eyes. She nodded, knowing he was here and everything was going to be okay. Somehow he would make things okay. “I’m sorry, please just get here.”
“The ambulance is on route, and so are the police. What is your name?”
“My name is Yasmine Jacobs.”
The rest of the conversation was a blur. Yasmine couldn’t recall what she said after that. She was too focused on Mabel. Yasmine laced her fingers with Mable’s and refused to let her go when the paramedics arrived. Dean spoke to them. At least, she assumed he was. His lips were moving, but she couldn’t hear him.
“Yazzy, they need to take her to the hospital,” Dean said. His eyes lined up with hers.
“I don’t want to leave her. I don’t want her to be alone,” she whimpered.
“She won’t be. These paramedics are going to take good care of her, and we are going to follow right behind the ambulance. Come on, let them do their job.”
He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and reluctantly she released Mabel’s hand. Tears streamed down her face as she watched them put her on a board and insert a line into her hand. The two men lifted Mabel onto a stretcher, and they headed out the door when Sheriff Daniels walked in.
“Yasmine, Dean, what happened?”
“The intruder and I fought, he ended up taking off out the back door, but I promised Yasmine we’d follow the ambulance. Can we talk later?”
“Here, come with me,” Sheriff Daniels said, leading them to his Sheriff’s car.
Yasmine didn’t care who took her to the hospital. They could fly for all she cared as she watched the ambulance pull away with its lights and sirens blaring. She rubbed over the sharp ache in her chest. The last time she watched an ambulance pull away like that was to take her mother to the hospital.
“Daddy!” Yasmine could hear his feet pounding down the stairs above her. She screamed for him again, the weight of her mother was too much, but she wasn’t going to give up. Her arms and legs shook with the effort to save her—this was all her fault. If Raquel had lived and she’d been taken, this wouldn’t be happening. She failed her family again.
Tears ran down her cheeks, the salty taste potent in her mouth.
“Oh dear god!” Her daddy stormed the rest of the way down the stairs, tripping on his housecoat and landing flat on his stomach.
“Daddy, help me.”
He scrambled to his feet and ran for the large cabinet that held all his tools for work. He pulled on the handle and cursed as it didn’t budge. He began throwing everything off the large work area until he found the key and ran back to the cabinet. Yasmine watched him out of the corner of her eye as he punched the cabinet.
“Come on, you stupid thing!”
The door finally gave way and pulled open. Her father produced a blade and ran for the end of the rope attached to the pulley he used to lift the bodies.
“Hurry, Daddy, I can’t hold her anymore.”
His arm moved back and forth over the rope, a strange growl-like sound coming from his mouth that scared her as much as her mother hanging over her head.
The rope suddenly gave way, and her mother fell toward the ground taking Yasmine with her. They landed hard in a heap, partially trapped under her mother’s weight. She was so exhausted, but she pulled herself out as her dad flipped her mother over, so she was face up.
Yasmine stared into the bulging eyes, her mother’s face a weird shade of blue, and knew it was too late. Her lower lip trembled as her father began pressing on her mother’s chest and blowing in her mouth.
“Yazzy, go call for help. Now!”
Yasmine was jerked out of the memory as they reached the front of the hospital, and the car came to a screeching halt.
Dean grabbed her hand and helped her out of the car.
Why was this happening again? Why did everyone she love, leave?