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My body sagged, the aftereffects running through my bloodstream, begging me for more of the high I’d experienced. I wouldn’t give in though—it’d be fully gone within an hour or two.
Ford closed the warehouse up, his jaw locked as he did. If I didn’t know better, I’d have said he didn’t like what he was doing. But that couldn’t be right, not with him being Hut’s second-in-command. I made a mental note to watch him more and mention it to the team as I followed after Hut. The gravel crunched underneath my boots, blasting through my ears and making my senses go haywire.
“Brody, this is Old Man Jack.” Hut halted on the small wooden porch and waved his arm between Jack and me. “Jack, this is Brody—newest member of the crew.”
The old man stared at me, his bristly gray beard mixing in with his long hair. “Brody.” He nodded.
“Quinn and Jace are gonna stay here for the rest of the night. We’ve got a buyer coming to test the product.” Hut leaned against one of the wooden beams that held the porch on the front of the house. “Stay where you are, and if there’s any trouble—”
“This ain’t my first rodeo, Hut.” The old man raised his brow, daring Hut to say something else.
Hut lifted his hands in the air and cackled a laugh as he stumbled back. “Okay, okay. I was just sayin'.” The old man stayed silent, leaving space for Hut to keep on talking. Like I said, Hut hated the silence. “This deal is gonna be huge,” Hut said, but he wasn’t talking to anyone in particular. We were all gathered around now, waiting to be told what to do next. “Don’t fuck it up.” His demeanor changed in the blink of an eye, and I was starting to understand just how dangerous his mood swings were. I faintly wondered if he’d been like this before or whether it was because of the continued cocaine use.
Hut stared at the old man, then moved his gaze to Jace and Quinn. “You hear me?”
“Got it, Hut,” Jace said, with Quinn repeating it after him. The old man did nothing but grip his rifle and move it closer to him. If it was that important, then why wasn’t Hut staying here? But then I understood. He didn’t want to be the face everyone saw, because then he’d be liable.
“Let’s go.” Hut spun around, headed to the car, and jumped in without another word.
I turned to face Ford, who was watching me intently. He tilted his head toward the car, and I moved as I mentally listed off the things I needed to look into. It was becoming apparent that this was more complicated than I originally thought.
* * *
LOLA
I wiped the table clean and gathered the empty plates to take them back to the kitchen, all the while wincing at the burning of my feet. I’d worked two doubles in a row this weekend. Now it was Monday, and I’d already attended two college classes and was four hours into my six-hour shift. I was dead on my feet—literally.
But at least I could afford a new pair of sneakers now. Go me!
Being busy had a way of making the days go both slower and faster. My shifts would fly by, being occupied by the customers and the routine in the diner, but my journey home each day would drag, like the universe knew I didn’t want to go back there, so it slowed that time down on purpose.
Lately, though, I wasn’t worried about what was greeting me when I got home because all I wanted was to sleep the night away before I started the next day. Being busy meant I didn’t have time to think about what was to come, it also helped that Hut hadn’t been at the house when I got home Saturday and Sunday night.
My feet screamed with each step I took toward the kitchen, and when I finally got to the sink and placed the plates inside, I sighed.
“You good there, Lola-Girl?” Sal asked from where he was putting more fries in the fryer. The bruising on my neck was fading, but I kept it covered with my latest fashion accessory—my headscarf. I was sure Sal knew I was trying to hide something, but he didn’t say anything. He took one look at it on Saturday morning, raised his brow, and walked away. He was aware of who I was and that I was from Cresthill, so no doubt knew what had happened.
“Yeah.” I leaned my ass against the counter, taking some of the pressure off. “Just tired is all.”
“Hmmm.” He pushed the basket into the oil, causing it to fizz from the impact of potatoes, and wiped his palm on a hand towel hanging from his waist. “You eaten yet?”
“Yeah.” I smiled and pushed off the counter. “I ate before my shift started.” It wasn’t a lie. I had eaten, just not enough to sustain me the rest of the shift.
“Why don’t you go take your break? Jan can cover your section for ten.”
When Sal told you to rest, you did just that. I spun around and headed back out front to tell Jan I was heading for a break.
“Ah, there she is!” Jan waved her arm toward me. “Lola? This lady wants to talk to you about your sign.”
I frowned. My sign had sat on the counter and the front window of the diner for three days now, but I’d almost forgotten about it. I swung my gaze to the woman who stood on the other side of the counter, her light-blond hair hanging straight to the middle of her back. Her lips were pulled up into a small smile, and her blue eyes shone brightly.
“Hi,” I croaked out as I stepped forward. “I’m Lola.” I extended my hand to her, and she placed her soft one inside mine. I wished I had hands that soft, but with the amount of water that was passed over them working in the diner, it was almost impossible.
“Nice to meet you, Lola. I’m Moira.” She let my hand go and let out a stuttering breath. “I’m really hoping you can help me.”
“I—”
“Sal said that you’d be able to.”
