“Shit, why’d you hit her, man?” one of the crew says, stepping away from my bag like he doesn’t want anything to do with it anymore as I clutch my face, the pain exploding in my cheek.
“Got it.” Another one pulls the small wad of cash from my bag, throwing everything else on the ground. All my tips from today. The money that needs to see James and me through most of the week with food, supplies, rent, and bills.
“Thanks, beautiful.” He gives me a wink before they walk off without a care in the world.
“Nikki!” James looks at me with wide, teary eyes, and I take in a breath. I feel my cheek burning up, so I wiggle my jaw back and forth. It’s throbbing but not broken.
“I’m okay. It’ll just be sore for a few days.”
“You sure?” James doesn’t look convinced, so I give him a small smile, one I regret immediately as the throbbing pulses through my cheek, up to my eye.
“I’m sure. Come on, let’s get home.” Bending over, I grab my things, shoving them back into my bag, trying my best not to cry. I can’t. I need to be strong. I need to keep it together for James.
“But they broke your clip… the one from Mom.” He picks up the pieces, one by one. It was a jeweled clip that had hand-painted bees on it. Mom used to say she was the big one and the other two were James and me. It was because she loved gardening and said that a garden without bees is like a song without a melody; let them hum, and the earth will thrive. She’s where I got my love for the environment and passion for sustainability. Passing the broken glass and jewels to me, I wrap them in a tissue and pocket it. The shattered pieces reflect my shattered heart. It’s only a clip. But it was her clip.
“Who were they?” He looks over his shoulder, watching them all get in a truck. My eyes canvass the area to see if anyone nearby saw what happened. But it’s empty, as I expected. No one besides Rochelle, Sutton, and I come through the back way, and now only James and I stand here. I should take us into the diner. Get some ice. Ensure James is all okay. But I don’t want to bring that issue to Rochelle. She does so much for us already; she doesn’t need to know that I’ve had an altercation with some of her customers.
“Just some guys. Let’s try to stay clear of them from now on.” With my bag now recovered, we begin to walk.
“What are we going to do?” James’ voice is quiet, but I hear the fear. The uncertainty.
Once Mom died, our family died too. Dad threw himself into work, was barely home. So my brother and I grieved together. But soon after, Dad met Maribel, and things changed. While I was away at college, James’ life spiraled, and our father was too busy to notice. Now, as we disappear into the background, his young, beautiful wife, who’s also the devil in disguise, is celebrating our absence.
“We’ll do what we always do. We carry on.”
He looks up at me and smiles, but that drops immediately as he says, “You’re going to have a black eye tomorrow.” He’s right. And we don’t have an ice pack or anything. When I get home, I’ll have to dunk my head in some cold water for a while, because I already feel it swelling.
“Yeah, well, I never said running away was going to be easy.” The words are more for my benefit than James’.
“It’s already better than what it was,” he adds. Maribel was awful to us both, but James took the brunt of it. While I know Dad is canvassing the countryside looking for us, he’s blind to the fact that his new wife is the entire reason we’re running in the first place.
Whispers is better, by a long shot.
6
Sutton
I push my way through the back door and slip to my booth. My booth. There’s no reserved sign. There’s nothing blocking others from sitting here. But every day when I come, it’s vacant, waiting for me.
My eyes immediately find Nikki as she moves around the counter, filling coffee cups. Like the stalker I am, I watch her for a moment. She has her hair down today, which is unusual, since it’s always up. She usually wears it in this cute clip that has bees on it. Three of them. I know because I’ve counted. It’s a little quirky and always catches my eye. Probably because I’m highly allergic, so bees are something I notice. But today, her hair is flowing in soft waves around her face, just past her shoulders, and I’m almost breathless at how beautiful she is.
“Fuck.” I rub my eyes, obsessing over a woman I barely know.
When she spots me, I tilt my head, confused. She looks different, but I can’t pinpoint why. It’s more than the hair. Her face is beautiful, as always, yet slightly unfamiliar. As she walks toward me, my eyes stay on her, searching, and then I balk.
“What’s that on your face?” My anger is instant. It always has been since I was a kid. I’m surprised I haven’t been in more fistfights in LA since I’ve been there. Although, I only get upset when something happens to people I care about, and in LA, people generally only care for themselves.
As a kid, it was always about protecting my mom. But now, as I look at Nikki, I see she has a black eye, and that instinct rises to the surface in a brand-new way. Her skin is soft blue and a little swollen, her hair covering it mostly. I knew something was amiss.
“It’s nothing.” She fills my cup with hot coffee without me even asking.
“It sure doesn’t look like nothing.” My shoulders are tight, my jaw clenched as I stand. I haven’t felt like this in a long time, but a burning rage fills me and runs rapidly through my limbs, so strongly that I need to move.
“I said it’s nothing.” Her voice is a mere whisper, and she won't meet my eyes. I fist my hands before I lift one, brushing her hair from her face gently, getting a full view that has me murderous. She looks at me, wide-eyed. I haven’t touched her before, but now that my hand brushes over her skin, I know she’s as delicate as she looks.
“What happened?” I pull in a sharp breath to calm myself. The urge to hit someone pulses through my bones.
“Sutton.” Her eyes hold a combination of fear and fire, a combustible mix, but hearing my name from her sweet lips nearly has me buckling.
