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I step out of my room and make sure to pull the door closed behind me then lock it. After all, if I get thrown in there again tonight, I don’t want to find any little surprises waiting for me. Keeping Scarface’s gun firmly in my hand, I begin making my way down the hall, hoping that I don’t take a wrong turn and make an even bigger mistake.
The hallway is dark, with the majority of the fluorescent lights above either smashed or blown. No windows are lighting the way, and I’m left to follow the sound coming from the main part of the building.
After two wrong turns, I finally find where I need to be and follow the smell of food only to find Jaren sitting up at the bar with two plates. I eye the plate and lick my lips, the hunger begging to send me crazy. “Ah, there she is,” Jaren says to himself, sliding the plate toward me and making me sigh in relief. If that had been someone else’s lunch, I'm pretty sure I would have shot someone. “Sit your ass down and eat.”
I warily glance around and take note of the people around me, take in the eyes on my body and figure out who among these people would be a threat. For the record, it’s nearly all of them.
My survival instincts kick in, and I hesitantly slide in beside Jaren, keeping myself extremely aware. “I don’t see Christian anywhere,” I comment, grabbing my fork and looking over the massive bowl of spaghetti. I barely know the guy, but he very quickly became one of my only allies in this place. Without him here, I feel vulnerable, and I don’t like it.
“He’s out on a job,” Jaren says, glancing across at me and giving me that one explanation that I’ve been looking for. Why the hell didn’t he come and deliver me food like he’d done yesterday? I guess that’s settled, though I don't know why I suddenly felt entitled to that from him. He was only doing me a kindness yesterday. It’s not as though it’s his job to make me feel at home in this dump. “Why? Have you got a bit of a crush on the guy?”
My eyes bug out of my head, and I gape at Jaren as though he just told me that he fucks pineapples on his days off. “What? No.”
“Hey, no judgment. I just think maybe he’s a little old for you and no offense, but don’t you have a little much going on right now? Besides, I doubt Christian would be down for raising some other cunt’s kid.”
I stare at him for a moment before dropping my gaze down to my lunch. “You’re insane if you think I’m into him. I just like having him around because he seems like one of the only people in this place who aren’t looking to fuck me over.”
“Good point,” Jaren laughs. “Christian is a good guy but be careful, he’s fucking lethal when he needs to be.”
I think of the story he told me about his sister on Friday and realize that he’s right. I've been around guys like Christian all my life, and I don’t doubt that there’s absolutely nothing he wouldn’t do when it came down to protecting someone he loves.
I nod, silently letting him know that I understand his warning to be careful, but for some reason, I don't think it applies to me. I get the feeling that I'm one of those people that he’d do anything to protect … At least, I think I am. Maybe that’s stupid to think like that. I only met the guy on Friday. How can I rationally expect him to be on my side?
I keep my mind busy with thoughts while I eat my lunch, being grateful for Jaren’s silence beside me. I can’t say that I’ve met many bartenders in my life, but the few that I have always seem to know when to put their two cents into a conversation and when to keep quiet. I’ve honestly never appreciated that trait more in my life.
I’m busy scraping up the last bits of my lunch when Russo appears at my side. “I thought you might have run off when no one saw you yesterday.”
“Can’t get rid of me that quickly,” I tell him, feigning confidence. “You promised me payback, and I need to make sure that you come through.”
He raises a brow. “Do you assume that my word is not trustworthy?”
I slide my empty bowl away and look Russo right in the eye. “In all fairness, the first time I met you, you branded me while I screamed to be released. I don’t trust easily, and so far, you’ve done nothing to earn my trust or prove that your word has any weight.”
