*Jeff The Killer love story*
Marley's life was attacked by a serial killer. He would do anything to destroy it. But soon finds that he can't.


2. Chapter 2

        I woke feeling like I hadn't slept at all. When my alarm clock sounded at 7 am, all I wanted to do was snuggle back under the blankets. I stood and shut off the alarm, then began to get ready for work.
        I walked into my small living room and looked around for Zoey, surprised she wasn't running around annoying me.
        "Zoey." I called softly. I heard a small whimper sound from somewhere below me. I dropped to my knees and looked under the couch. Zoey hid in the far corner and was shaking.
        "What are you doing under there, girl?" Hiding, she was hiding. Why? Then I remembered. I sunk all the way to the floor and pulled my knees to my chest. I couldn't go to work after that. But I couldn't stay here alone either. Being with other people and the comfortable safety of the coffee shop would make me feel better.
        I could talk to Rebecca. No, she would think I'm insane. I had to go to the police. No, they would send me to a mental institution.
        'I can't tell anyone.' The though came to me in slow, cold realization.
        Jeff would be furious. Imagine what he would do. Who he would hurt.
        I stood and continued getting ready for work, then, I drove there, dread trailing close behind.

        I pushed open the door to the small, warm coffee shop where I worked with Rebecca. A single customer sat in the chair closest to the door, reading a book. We received few customers in the morning that stayed put rather than getting something to go.
        I saw Rebecca standing behind the counter sipping a cup of coffee.
        "We work in a coffee shop 6 days a week, 8 hours a day and you're telling me... that you're not sick of coffee yet?" I asked in mock disbelief.
        She shrugged. "Are you? Besides, you know I can't survive without my morning dose."
        I sighed and walked behind the counter, while tying an apron around my waist.
        "Thanks for covering my shift yesterday." She said and then pulled out her iPhone. She was currently obsessed with writing fan-fiction.
        "Yeah, since when did I become the one covering your shifts?" I asked trying to tear her attention away from her phone.
        "I just had something to do." She didn't even glance up at me.
        "And what might've that been?"
        "Tell you later."
        "Why not now?"
        "Because I don't want to." She put her phone in her back pocket and laid her head in her hands. I practically growled and stomped away to stack cups. Our one customer closed his book and left, taking the remainder of his coffee with him.
        "What's wrong with you? Did your latest celebrity crush get a girlfriend?" She smirked. I ignored her and she sighed. "I guess I'll take that as a yes...."
        "I wasn't ignoring you to say yes! I was ignoring you because you're a brat!" I snapped. She raised her eyebrows just as the bell on the door chimed, signalling that someone had come in.
        Rebecca and I both looked up to see a boy with dark, shaggy hair and downcast eyes walk in. Rebecca glanced at me and said; "You'll get it." I glared at her before turning to the boy. "What would you like?"
        I was noting that he seemed vaguely familiar when he looked up at me. Jeff's eyes. He smirked when he saw the recognition on my face. He glanced at Rebecca, murder filling his eyes.
        "R-Rebecca, maybe you want to go restock in the back, yeah?" My voice shook. She glanced at me, then at Jeff and grudgingly murmured an agreement. She probably thought we wanted time alone to make-out. Little did she know.
        "I like your little friend...Rebecca was it?" His deep voice drawled out once she left the room.
        "Don't touch her."
        "Oh, but that wasn't apart of our little agreement." He was clearly enjoying himself.
        "I never agreed to anything." I growled.
        "It was a communist agreement." He shrugged it off.
        "What are you talking about?"
        He smirked. "Meaning: I decided it without your input. Surely you studied communism in school?"
        "What do you want from me?"
        He stared at me, silently, for a moment. "I want to show you that your aren't safe anywhere. Not with your friends, family, or even police. I want to get inside your head and make you regret getting out of the bed in the morning." He said all this calmly, as though he were having a normal everyday conversation with a friend.
        I stared at him.
        A slow grin spread on his face.
        "I did nothing to you." I whispered.
        "Exactly. Now can I get...a medium expresso...and add just a teaspoon of sugar."
        I stared at him in disbelief.
        He clapped his hands together. "Chop chop! Let's not wait for global warming to catch up to us. A serial killer does need his energy in the morning."
        Feeling like he couldn't be serious, I reached behind me for a cup and made the coffee, watching him out of the corner of my eye.
        I sat the full cup on the counter and he reached across to grab it. Then he laid a ten dollar bill in the cup's place.
        "Keep the change." He said, then turned and walked out of the shop door.
        It chimed shut behind him.

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