Bought For Him.

DISCLAIMER: VERBAL ASSAULT (FORMS OF RACISM) & PHYSICAL ASSAULT, INCLUDING SPIKING WILL BE MENTIONED IN THIS STORY.

This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents in this book are either the product of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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Zia

"Thank you for your purchase. Please do come again." I smiled as I packed her pastries in a paper bag. My cheeks hurt so much from all this smiling. This was exhausting.

Sighing, I held my hips and looked around the store; it was almost closing time. Thank God. Cleaning up the trash the customers left on the desks, I mentally groaned as I heard the bell sound, notifying me there was a new customer.

I quickly rushed to the counter and put a smile back on. I wanted to go home; today was difficult.

"Welcome to Deez Goodies. What can I get you today?" I asked the man, who glared at me.

What did I ever do to him?

I'm not really surprised by his outward expression, I did have days where I dealt with the worst people, and it took a couple of mantras and excessive mental swearing for me to keep my smile.

He looked at what was on display and scrunched his eyebrows together as he read the names. Believe it or not, I tried my best to avoid looking at the baked goods with the customers because I couldn't afford to waste money on this stuff.

Sometimes when my boss was in a good mood, she would give me what was left over– or what was burnt to take back home to my family, and when she's p*ss*d off about something, she'd just make a resale of yesterday's treats in the morning at half price.

It totally works for the school kids.

"What do you suggest?" His voice caught me by surprise. I wasn't expecting it to be that... gentle.

Licking my lips, I stared at the displayed treats and pointed to what I thought looked good. Everything did. 

"I think you'd like the tiramisu better than the chocolate mousse. I don't think it's fresh any longer." I whispered the last part. "Uhm, the scones are nice if you're looking for something without too much sugar, and macaroons are always a yes."

"Which one would you like?" He asked, and I looked up at him, confused. Biting my lip, I laughed and shook my head.

"I can't eat on the job," I said, and he took out his wallet.

"Your shift is about to end, right?" I stared at him, at a loss for words. How did he know that? "The sign outside says you're close at eight; it's now currently three minutes after eight," he said as he glanced at his watch. "I'm sorry for coming in late."

"No, it's okay. You did come before closing time." I offered him my best smile, ready for him to leave so that I could go home. The bell rang, and my heart dropped into the pits of my stomach. I hated making people turn back.

"Oh good, you're still open!"

"Uhm, no. We're assisting one last customer; I'm sorry." I said to Chris, who had just walked in. He had a bad habit of coming in just when I was about to close and looked around for ages before deciding he didn't want to get anything.

"But the open sign is still visible, plus there's more than one customer." He reasoned as he pointed to the men who stood behind my customer. I tried incredibly hard to ignore their presence since they looked intimidating, but how was he not afraid to point that out? 

My knees are shaking behind this counter.

"She said they're closed," my customer said as he passed me his card. "I'll take everything in the store," he said softly, and my eyes widened. Everything?

"Man, you can't do that." Chris laughed as if he was expecting him to be joking. I hoped he was joking.

"Do you need help with packaging my purchase?" He asked as he looked straight into my eyes. I shook my head and quickly swiped his card after selecting everything that was left.

This is madness!

"Come on, Zia. I just wanted the sweet bread." Chris groaned as he leaned against the counter.

"I'm sorry, he came first," I whispered as I closed the last package.

"That's b*llsh*t!" He slammed his hands on the counter, and I heard a click as I jumped from the shock. "Just give me the bread, Zia. I'll pay, hmm?" He said as he frantically took out the money from his wallet and threw it on the counter.

So today, he wants to make a purchase? If I didn't really need this job, I would've cursed Chris out a long time ago. He knew how to get on my nerves.

"Is that all?" My customer asked as he gathered the items I had stored in a plastic. How can someone be so calm? Wow.

"Yes, thank you for coming. Please do come again next time!" I said happily as he nodded and exited the store. The men he had come with dragged Chris out as well, and I couldn't be more thankful.

I quickly rushed to the front door and locked it. Cleaning the bakery again, I finally clocked out two hours later than the original time. I wonder what Ouma would say about the display being totally empty tomorrow. Luckily, I only had to work the morning shift tomorrow.

Ugh, I'm so exhausted. I clutched my back tightly against my body as I rushed home. I hate it here.

I pushed open the creaking door with cracks running all the way from the top of the door to the bottom. I held my heart in my hands as I hoped that man wasn't here today. I walked into the house and closed the door, locking it. Walking further into the small two-roomed house, I heard the sounds of television playing in the background while my family laughed amongst each other.

"Evening." I greeted as I saw my stepdad sitting on his dented love couch, taking small sips of his beer. You're always drinking, so there is no progression in your life. He disgusted me.

"Hi, Zizi!" My little brother Zach greeted me animatedly as he shoved a spoon filled with cake in his mouth. We didn't have enough forks at home, and where did they get the money to buy cake?

"Hi Zia, how was work?" My mother asked softly as she brushed Zach's hair softly. She should just cut it off; he doesn't take care of it.

"Exhausting," I whispered as I leaned against the couch she sat on.

"I bet it was seeing you coming back home so late," my dad said as he looked at me from the corner of his eyes. I hated his stare more than I hated him. "Work must've been really busy. I bet your back is hurting," his eyes looked me over before staring longingly at my *ss. 

He's not even ashamed. The creep. DISGUSTING PIG!

"I'm not doing this today," I whispered to my mom as I got up.

"Zia," she whispered softly, trying to get me to sit with them. "There's cake in the fridge, have a slice. It's your birthday," she said softly as she held my hand.

Oh yeah. It was my birthday, and I felt like a total waste for a twenty-two-year-old.

I opened the fridge, which was five steps away from the living room. My eyes widened in shock as I stared at the packaging from the bakery where I worked.

"Ma? When did you get the time to go to Ouma's bakery?" I asked her as I opened the different boxes. "And how did I not see you there?"

Oh wow, there was Tiramisu cake, but only a slice of it was left. Well, at least there was other savoury stuff.

"Someone dropped them off and said to tell you a happy birthday," she said as she looked at me, smiling softly. Someone... who? "I'm sorry, I'm not the one who bought it, baby," she whispered, and I could tell she was refraining from crying.

"It's okay," I gulped as I closed the box. "Ma, by any chance, did the man who dropped it off have light brown eyes and short hair, wearing a suit?" I asked, and she scrunched up her eyebrows.

"Why, is that your boyfriend?" My stepdad asked, and my mother breathed out heavily. I really didn't know what my mother saw in him. He's ugly, a fart and stays home while we go out and work. WHAT DO YOU SEE IN HIM?

"No baby, the man had long hair but was also in a suit. Do you know him?"

"Nope," I whispered as I took one Macaroon and popped it into my mouth. That's so weird.

"It might be another boyfriend of hers. She leaves before everyone and comes back late at night," he commented, and I frowned. "Busy whoring herself out to white men!" He bit out, and as I was about to answer him, my mother called my name.

"Zia. Zach dosed off," she said, and I breathed out heavily as I picked him up. "Goodnight."

"Hmm," I grunted as I stomped off to our bedroom. I was fuming, and I wanted to kick his face in! While they were fighting, I was happy that Zach had fallen asleep and wasn't disturbed by the commotion.

Putting him under the covers, I breathed out heavily as I sat on the ground near the bed.

This is so pathetic. I hated living in this house that was bound to fall in one day. I hated my mother for falling for such a weak excuse of a man. I hated how I couldn't even do anything to help her get out of this situation.

It's all f*ck*ng pathetic. 

Zia

It's been 3 months since I last saw the mysterious man who bought out Ouma's bakery. As expected, Ouma was shocked and nearly accused me of stealing everything. However, she realised that the money accounted for everything that wasn't there.

When I got to work the next morning, as I opened the door, Chris appeared out of nowhere, scaring the crap out of me. He wore an oversized sweater and pulled the hood over his head, almost covering his face. I would not have seen the fresh bruises on his face if I had not crouched. 

He apologised to me for causing me to be scared and for his actions from the previous day, recognising that his behaviour was inappropriate. I agreed with him but didn't feel his apology was necessary. There was a look of panic on his face as he continuously scanned his surroundings. 

I hadn't seen him since. 

I stood in the kitchen, as I scrolled through my phone, passively responding to my friend's t