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Stuck, trapped, and it’s getting hard to breathe.
I could end the torture and run for the front door, but there’s no promise they wouldn’t catch up with me. In fact, I’m sure they would. Caleb’s one of the fastest sprinters I’ve ever seen. He’d catch me in seconds…
Could I leave through the backdoor and make it to Alessandro’s car before anyone notices I’m gone?
“Excuse me,” Caleb calls to me as I’m bussing a table, his hand raised. “We’re ready to order.”
Embarrassment warms my cheeks, and I freeze, unsure if I should make them wait longer and take the dishes to the kitchen, or if I should take their order to avoid more of a scene.
They deserve to wait longer. Much longer. In fact, they don’t deserve to be served at all.
I wish I could just leave them sitting there until they give up and let Sara take their order, but I know they won’t. They’ve waited this long to find me, and they aren’t going to go until they’ve harassed me a good bit more and ruffled my feathers.
Even then, I worry they’ll linger. What if they’re waiting for me outside when I clock out?
The more ruckus they cause, the more liable they are to draw Alessandro’s attention, and I don’t want that. If Alessandro gets involved, I have no doubt one of the guys will rat me out.
I don’t want anyone to break the news to him but me…
“Excuse me,” Caleb says again, thankfully just loud enough for me and a few others to hear.
I stop what I’m doing, leaving the pile of dirty dishes stacked on the empty table, and snap my gaze in his direction. He’s leaning against the wall, one leg propped up beside him on the seat like he owns the place, a snarky smirk on his face.
I wish I could slap it off him.
He holds up his wrist like he’s checking an invisible watch, and the last thread of my patience snaps. With a huff, I pull out my tiny notepad and march back over to their booth, silently praying I make it through this encounter without losing my shit.
thirty-two
JESSA
“You know, you don’t have to be such an asshole,” I say, glaring at Caleb with as much anger as I can muster. My gaze flicks to Sean and Derrick, who have matching smug looks on their faces, before I look back at their ringleader.
“And you don’t have to be such a terrible waitress, love,” Caleb says with condescending tenderness.
Ouch.I suck in sharply, like it’ll somehow soften the blow, but it doesn’t help.
“We haven’t eaten all day, and we’re starving,” Sean says, taking a sip of his whiskey before setting the glass back down and cocking his head at me. “An omega should know better than to make alphas wait.”
Double ouch.
A painful knot settles in my chest, but I try to keep the hurt off my face. They all know exactly how to push my buttons, how to get under my skin with just a few words, and Sean’s struck a particularly tender nerve.
All of Alessandro’s compliments about my work and the kind words from the regular patrons disappear, erased from my brain in a matter of seconds, replaced by the insult.
Terrible at my job.
I deflate, the disappointment of never being enough to please my old alphas rising. Nothing I did was ever good enough for them, no matter how hard I tried. No matter what I did, I always fell short.
Why would I think this job would be any different?
“Go easy on her,” Derrick says, surprising me most of all. His faux compassion might disguise his venomous personality, but not enough for me to forget it all together.
“What do you want?” I ask, exasperated and fighting past the swell of conflicting emotions threatening to overtake me and drag me under.
Regret. Failure. Disappointment.Pain.
So much pain.
