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Lance’s gaze changed. Only slightly, enough to be called a trick of the light, but I felt the change. On my skin. “That wasn’t a question,” he clipped. “You need what I say you need.”
I gaped at him, old wounds opening at the command in his words. But I knew that this was different, though my body didn’t know that, my traumas.
A honking of a horn got my attention.
I snapped my gaze over to where Nathan had climbed into the front seat, obviously having had enough of being an agreeable and patient kid for the day. For once, I was glad of it.
I turned, ready to stomp off to the car, even though it was childish. I got myself. Paused. Then I turned. Lance was still standing in the same place, as if he hadn’t planned on moving until I was in the car.
“Thank you,” I said, my voice a little harsher than it should have been when thanking someone. “For the donuts, the coffee, for the protection.”
And before he could answer about it only being his ‘job’ or whatever, I turned and walked to the car.
Chapter Seven
I thought I was prepared for walking into work and the inevitable questions.
Firstly, because I’d called in sick yesterday.
I never called in sick.
People like me couldn’t afford sick days. Moms certainly didn’t get sick days, so I had perfected the art of being able to do pretty much anything while suffering from the flu. I also filled myself full of every natural remedy I could, partly because they were way cheaper than medicine from the drugstore, and mostly because they did the same job and were much better for you. I didn’t want Nathan growing up with antibiotic resistance and dependence on over-the-counter painkillers.
I did that where I could, made homemade cleaner with vinegar and baking soda, made soap with lye and essential oils, toothpaste, anything else I found online.
People at work knew me and knew this. They would have been worried about me being on my deathbed, because almost everyone had text me asking if I needed anything throughout the day.
I replied to everyone, despite not feeling like it, because I knew that it worried them more if I didn’t reply.
Walking in, I expected everyone to be concerned. Esther had even texted me telling me I didn’t have to come in today if I was still sick. She never did that with people, she would never make someone work if they were sick, but she was kind of a hardass. Well, to everyone but me and Nathan. I replied quickly telling her I was better.
No way could I afford another day off, even if I wanted to do exactly what Lance was doing, and sit outside Nathan’s school watching him and eating the rest of the donuts he got.
We needed the cash.
I saw Bobby, our cook, first, and he greeted me with a smile. “Ah, she’s alive!” he declared, throwing his hands up in the air, one of them holding a huge cleaver.
I grinned, despite the fact I was thinking about Nathan. Worrying about Robert. Obsessing over Lance. He’d done as promised and followed me all the way to work, and I hadn’t heard his bike roar off until I was walking in the back doors to the diner.
“Yes, I’m alive and ready for a fun-filled day,” I replied, forcing cheer into my voice.
But Bobby was no longer smiling, he was rounding the stainless-steel counter in the kitchen, his attractive features morphing as he focused on my face.
Shit, so my concealer really wasn’t working.
Bobby clutched my face in his hand, moving it so my bruised eye was tilted to the light.
“Who did this?” he demanded. “I need a name, address, social security number.”
His words were steel, his entire body radiating with fury.
Bobby was usually a mild man, soft-spoken, shy until you got to know him. But that was because he’d had a really frickin’ rough and dark history. He was brought up in a bad situation, and he looked for solace in a worse situation—a street gang in East LA—he had ink on his arms as evidence. He refused to cover it up because he wanted the reminder of who he used to be and who he wasn’t now.
He’d been to jail, I knew that, Esther and Logan knew that. A criminal conviction made it impossible for him to get a job in the city, especially since he was trying to get as far away from his old life as he could.
But Esther and Logan had a way of reading people, not by their pasts, or their resumes. Just like they took a chance on a single mother with no waitressing experience, they took a chance on Bobby.
And it paid off, he was one of the hardest workers, best damn cooks around and kindest people I knew. I’d almost forgotten his violent past, because even with his muscles and tattoos, he wasn’t that to me, or anyone who knew him.
