“What happened?” I grit out again, my hand still in her silky hair. The diner is busy, but everyone is too into their own conversations to worry about ours. Which is a good thing, because I’m going to keep asking until she tells me. All the other fuckers needing their caffeine fix can wait. She must see the commitment in my eyes because she relents.
“I fell.”
“This isn’t a fall.” My response is immediate. I see the pattern on her skin. A hand did this. She takes a deep breath, her resolve falling to the wayside.
“Fine. I got mugged.” She puts the coffeepot on the table and looks at me with exasperation.
“Mugged? In Whispers?” I’m in disbelief. Sure, there’s petty crime everywhere. But here? In Whispers?
“Yeah, out of all the places, it happens to me here. They… saw the tip you left me.” Her words have a resigned feeling to them. I don’t like it. I see the kindness in her eyes. I see the love she has for her boy. As I look at her, I register what she said.
“It’s my fault?” My eyes widen, anger now aimed at myself.
“It isn’t your fault.” She shakes her head, looking around quickly. I move my hand, gliding it across her jaw and gripping her chin lightly. The way her hair falls back, I notice up close that it’s a little lighter at the roots, so she isn’t naturally dark. As I tilt her face up to mine, her lips part in surprise, and I drink her in. The way her lips are plump, her neck curves, her eyes gazing up into mine.
“Who was it?” I demand as softly as I can.
“I don’t know.” She’s lying.
I lift an eyebrow and press on. “Give me a name.”
“I don’t know their names.”
“Their? More than one?” Fuck, did she get completely ambushed?
“About four of them. Those same guys who come in here. You know, they always sit at the front.” Her eyes flick to my hand, like she might be uneasy, and I pull it away.
“What did the sheriff say?” I assume he was here. Someone saw it. Helped her.
“I… I didn’t report it.”
“But who helped you?” I’m confused, wondering why whomever came to her aid didn’t call the police.
“No one. I can take care of myself. I put cold water on it, then dreamed of peanut butter cups because eating them always makes me feel better.” The stubbornness in her expression tells me she can, but the bruise on her cheek tells a different story.
“You need to report it.” I’m too commanding, almost towering over her, but my protective instincts are pinging off the charts.
“They’re customers. I don’t want to bring negativity to Rochelle or the diner.”
Shaking my head, I frown. “Rochelle would be the first person to kick them out for touching you. You should report it.”
“Not happening.” She scoffs at me like I’m being unreasonable.
“Why not?” I squint, confused as to why a young woman wouldn’t. Especially since Rochelle is married to the sheriff.
“For the same reason you can’t do or say anything about it either.”
I stall. Her words make me pause briefly, confirming she’s running or hiding from something or someone too.
“Oh, I’ll fucking do something about it,” I mutter gruffly.
“What? So you’ll go and get the bad guys, and as soon as you do, they’ll talk. If they don’t already know who you are, then they will the moment you show your face. I don’t need eyeballs on me and neither do you.” Grabbing the coffeepot, she walks away, and I stand frozen to the spot, feeling bereft from her absence before I slump into the booth.
She’s right, of course, but that doesn’t make me any less angry. I think about calling Jackson from my security team. He and his team are on vacation right now, with me here, not needing them in Whispers. I could have them scouring this town to find the men within a few hours, and then I’d show these guys exactly what happens if they go near Nikki again.
But that would blow my cover. As soon as anyone in my security team moves, they’ll be followed and they sure as hell would look out of place here in Whispers. The reason I’ve been so successful at not being noticed is because I’m on my own; I blend into the background.
I’m intrigued by her words. She doesn’t need eyeballs on her. The mystery around this woman thickens, and while I appreciate the need for privacy, I sure do want to know more about her.
