Her father worried about her constantly, but accepted Saige’s independence, albeit reluctantly. He even knew why she stayed at the job, but knew how determined she could be when pushed.
He’d be in town the following day and she looked forward to seeing him for dinner. He said it was business that was bringing him to Tampa, but she knew that his business was her. She was missed at home as much as she missed him, but once she’d reached twenty-six, she’d decided enough was enough. She wanted her life back.
Three years later she had some of it back. Even though she didn’t need to, she worked a job that gave her an income. It wasn’t the best place to work, but she was constantly surrounded by people and very rarely, if ever, found herself alone—safety in numbers.
“You planning on buying the place?” Lou, the owner asked.
“No, why?” Saige smiled down at the petite woman who had asked the question. Lou was tiny but she wasn’t afraid of anything it seemed. Saige had seen her put men twice her size into place—no one dared get on her bad side.
Lou’s lips twitched. “You’re standing there eyeing the place.”
Saige shrugged. “Sorry, lost in thought.”
“I don’t pay you for standing around,” Lou grumbled. “Get back to work.”
Saige laughed and went behind the counter to clear the dirty dishes.
“Hey, honey. Turn that up.”
She turned to face the man who made the request and raised a brow at his rudeness.
“Please,” he added, and grinned.
She shook her head in frustration. Turning, she reached up and twisted the volume knob on the television…and froze. Her head spun at the images flashing on the screen.
A younger version of herself stared back at her—a picture taken from her prom. Her blonde hair was clipped at the nape of her neck, the ruby red dress showing off her youthfulness. Her heart sped up, slamming into her chest as her throat tightened around her breath. She wanted to run…to hide from the prying eyes that would be staring at her now, but then she remembered she wasn’t that Saige any longer. She’d changed. Her hair was no longer blonde, but auburn. Her body wasn’t adorned with a perfectly cut prom dress, but was hidden under the frumpy, grease stained waitress uniform.
She glanced around at the customers who were watching the screen and not her and sighed in relief. Then her gaze returned to the television.
Why was she up there?
The blood that had rushed through her ears finally calmed enough so that she could hear what the reporter was saying…
“Earlier today, Governor Stafford signed an execution warrant for thirty-fi
ve year old Quinten James Peterson, who, at the age of twenty-seven, was found guilty of the premeditated murders of five college girls, and the abduction and torture of Saige Lockwood, who became known as victim number six.
“In twenty-eight days, Quinten Peterson will have the lethal injection administered at the death row facility in Harlington, where he’s been incarcerated for close to eight years.
“Harlington’s warden, Jonathan Roscoe, has confirmed that later today Quinten Peterson will be transferred to a death watch cell, pending the execution of the warrant.
“At this time, we’ve been unable to contact Quinten Peterson’s ex-wife, Jocelyn, or Alexander Peterson, his brother, for a statement.
“The governor will be giving a formal statement at three o’clock this afternoon.”
And there he was, Quinten Peterson in his prison uniform, large as life on the screen. Her eyes stayed focused on him, traveling over his narrow shoulders, dark brown hair, and hard chiseled face half covered with a trim beard. His eyes held her gaze, they were so dark that it was like looking into pools of...despair.
Saige’s heart raced as fast as the blood rushed through her ears. She reached up to her forehead and pressed at the pain that threatened to bring her to her knees.
“What’s wrong?” Tamsyn grabbed her arms and pulled her into the hallway that led to the restrooms. “Saige,” she whispered. “I know we’ve never talked about your past, and I’m not asking now, but you’re my friend, so please talk to me. Tell me you’re okay.”
Tears flooded Saige’s eyes and slowly slid down her face as she watched Tamsyn worry at her lip.
“I...I don’t know.” Saige wiped at her eyes, but the tears continued.
She dashed into the restroom and grabbed a handful of tissues from the dispenser. “I have to work.”
Tamsyn stopped her mid swipe as she grabbed her arm and slowly turned her. “Look at me, Saige.”