I grabbed my cart and tried to leave.
But Owen seized the handle and held on tight. He looked at me with a vicious smile, then pulled out his phone and dialed.
"Hello, is this the purchasing manager at Lucky Star Supermarket? I want to buy every last bottle of water in your store. The deposit has already been transferred to your company account. Don't sell another drop to anyone else."
It happened in the blink of an eye.
A middle-aged man's voice came through the other end, dripping with eagerness to please. "Of course, of course..."
A moment later, the supermarket's PA system crackled to life with a flat, mechanical announcement:
"Attention, shoppers. All water products in this store have been sold out. Please visit another location for your water needs..."
Owen let out a cold laugh, his eyes gleaming with triumph as he looked at me.
"How about that? I told you—without my say-so, you're not walking out of here with a single bottle. Now put every last one of those back on the shelf where you found them. You hear me?!"
I glanced at the time. Less than five hours until the end of the world.
I still had a mountain of daily necessities to prepare. Rush hour was in full swing. Getting to the next supermarket would take forever. And worse, Owen's phone call had probably already sent shockwaves through the store's internal network. By the time I drove to another location, the shelves would be stripped bare.
Without water, my family wouldn't survive the three months of hell that were coming.
I'd been given a second chance at life, and instead of saving everyone, I'd dragged my family and Clay down with me.
The more I thought about it, the more panic clawed at my chest. Tears burned behind my eyes.
Owen was still running his mouth.
"Wanda, considering you waited on me hand and foot for seven years, I'll make you a deal. If you agree right now to let Lesley and her family move into your place, and then get on your knees and apologize to her, I'll let you take the water. Otherwise, I'm hauling every last bottle out of here myself."
Lesley planted her hands on her hips and sneered at me.
"Go on, sweetie. Kneel. Or we're taking all of it."
"You're not taking anything."
The words came from behind me before Lesley's smirk could settle. A low, familiar voice.
Clay was standing at my back. I had no idea when he'd arrived.
He pointed at Owen and Lesley, his tone ice-cold.
"Get out."
Irritation flashed across Owen's face. He jabbed a finger at Clay.
"Who the hell are you?! This is between me and my girlfriend. What's it got to do with you?!"
Clay grabbed Owen's outstretched finger and bent it backward. Hard.
Over the shrill, ugly sound of Owen's screaming, Clay spoke, his voice steady and low.
"I own this supermarket. So I'm going to need you to get out. Right now."
My mind went blank.
This supermarket was Clay's.
What had I been panicking for?
"And before you leave," Clay continued, "put back every single item you pulled off those shelves. Exactly where you found them."
I looked at Owen's cart, heaped with a chaotic mountain of goods, and couldn't hold back a laugh.
Sorting through that mess and returning everything to its proper place would take at least three hours.
I checked my watch. Four hours until the heat hit.
Owen wouldn't have time to prepare a thing.
"Fine! We'll put it back!"
Lesley planted her hands on her hips, craned her neck at Clay, and screamed at the top of her lungs.
Owen scrambled behind her, yanking at her clothes, trying desperately to shut her up. It didn't work.
So Lesley's stupidity wasn't an act after all.
But Owen still had a shred of sense left. He shoved Lesley behind him, pointed at the cart full of goods, and ground out through clenched teeth—
