“That boy is ten, and he’s got school. You don’t even pay him when you order him down here. You need to let him be a kid.”
You selfish moron! You’re nothin’ but a jerk-face bully!
Dean pulls his shoulders back and points at me. I glance at his beefy hand, grateful I managed to stop myself from saying out loud everything I wanted to. I tense for his reaction. There’s always one, but not usually in front of people.
For the first time in my life, I’m actually grateful for Mateo as he rounds the corner and waves his chubby fingers at me.
“I’m out!” He brushes past us and pushes open the kitchen door.
“What about my last two orders?” I call to him.
He jerks to a stop and points at them, sitting under the lights. How had I not noticed those? I got distracted with Jackson. Dammit. How long have they been sitting there?
“Ever heard of the words ‘order up’?” I snap.
“Whatever, Annie.” He rolls his eyes, the door banging shut behind him. I scan the kitchen. As per usual, he’s left it in a state. Awesome. I so love staying extra late to clean up other people’s messes.
Muttering under my breath, I grab the plate of fries and onion rings, brushing past Dean, whose nostrils are still flaring. I don’t care. He’s about to leave and get some. Hopefully whichever woman is stupid enough to do that for him will at least wipe that scowl off his face for a few days.
I wander out to Table Thirteen. “Here you go, officers.” I want to explain that the useless chef never told me the orders were ready and I wish I could fire him, but instead I give up my wages for the night and murmur, “These are on the house. Sorry it took so long.”
Tucker gives me a kind smile of thanks while Wesley ignores me, chowing down on the fries like they’re his first meal of the day. They’re obviously taking a late-night break before heading back to the station. I’m grateful there’s one nice cop in town. Thanks to Chief Keyes, most everybody hates me, but not Tucker Thwaites. He’s a good human being, and I’m grateful for it.
Scanning the restaurant, I notice Nadine clearing her last table and wander over to her.
“You about done?” I follow her into the kitchen.
“Yep.” She unloads her tray by the kitchen sink, then wipes the back of her hand across her forehead. “I would stay and help you lock up, but Rhett’s on the early shift tomorrow, and I have to do the full morning routine with the kids. I need to catch me as much sleep as I can get.”
“I understand.” I rub her shoulder with a smile and wave her goodbye before doing a slow circle and trying to decide what to start with. I go for the dishes, figuring if I can at least get those done before closing up, that’ll only leave me the countertops, the gas cooker, the chairs and the floors.
Shit. It’s gonna be a long night.
At least Dean won’t be around to make it even worse for me.
Shoving up my sleeves, I refresh the sink with clean water and get busy, my mind wandering to the guy in Booth Six and silently praying he’ll still be there when I’m done.
10
Fire Pain
I need to split, but I can’t move a muscle until those cops leave.
I nearly lost my stomach when they walked in. They glanced my way but obviously didn’t think much of me. It’s made it impossible to eat. Well, that and the fire pain in my side. That’s the main reason I can’t leave. If I get out of this booth, I know it’s gonna hurt, and I don’t want them coming over to check on me.
I’ll just sit and wait.
Wait for the pretty waitress to get back.
Annie.
I like that name.
Sipping at my third cup of coffee, I hold on to the slightly bitter taste at the end of the mouthful, willing the caffeine to see me through the night.
One of the officers wipes his mouth with a napkin and glances back at me. He looks to be the older, more experienced one, so I raise my chin, flashing him a smile. He nods back and forgets about me while my heart thunders so loudly in my chest, I’m surprised they can’t hear it over the music.
The music.
It just stopped.
“Closing time!” someone hollers from the bar.
I tense, keeping my eyes down as the cops rise from their seats.
“Thanks, Annie! Take care, Dean!” the taller one hollers toward the archway.
“’Night, Tucker. See you later,” a friendly voice calls from the kitchen, and then Annie appears, smiling at the policemen and thanking them for their business.
It turns into what must be a long-running joke, and they laugh their way to the door.
Her sweet distraction works in my favor, along with a drunk who stumbles on the sidewalk. Both men dart outside to deal with it while I lean back against the booth, wondering what the hell I’m going to do.
This break was supposed to make me feel better, but the idea of walking back to the car is almost unbearable. I hurt. And I don’t know how to fix it.
Shit.
I shouldn’t have taken that money.
I should have bided my time and snuck away in the early hours of the morning. I could have boosted a car from a perfect stranger. The Sloans would have taken their sweet time trying to figure out what happened to me.
But no. I had to be impulsive.
I let nightmares from my childhood drive me out the door, and my itchy fingers couldn’t resist taking that damn bag.
My fingers never used to itch. But then Deeks and I got shoved into that group home and sent to high school for the first time in our lives. We hated it. We missed the ranch. Grandpa. After nearly a year of getting picked on and beaten up, I was over it. Deeks wasn’t doing much better. The guy had a quick-fire temper, and without Grandpa around to soothe the flames, he’d go after anyone who dared to touch me. I appreciated his loyalty, but he was getting into so much trouble, and it only made our guardians hate us.
One night, I told him we should split. Try and make it on our own.
He jumped all over the idea, and by four o’clock in the morning, we’d gathered our stuff like stealth ninjas and taken money from every wallet in the house. We didn’t wake a soul, escaping into the rising sun feeling like freaking geniuses.
The feeling didn’t last long. Pocket change can’t feed you for more than a few days. We tried to get work here and there, but we were teen dropouts. In the end, pickpocketing and shoplifting became our MO. We were a perfect team. Deeks would distract, and I’d slide in to nab the goods. We did practically anything for a decent meal and the occasional roof over our heads.
I pull Deeks’s lighter from my pocket and twirl it in my fingers, smoothing my thumb over the tiger face etching.
Deeks. I wonder what he’s doing now.
No doubt fighting his way out of some kind of trouble.
He was a magnet for it. Never knew how to stay out of it.
I was the quick-fingered thief. The silent one who never wanted to be noticed.
That night we lost each other, though… it’ll torment me forever. A clerk spotted me in the camera I’d somehow missed and started screaming like a bat out of hell. He chased us down with a baseball bat as police sirens wailed from around the corner.
“Go that way!” Deeks shouted, and I veered right. I kept running down the alley, thinking he was behind me until I turned to find myself alone. I went back for him, but cops were everywhere, so I had to lay low. The next day, I searched the entire place, but I couldn’t find Deeks anywhere. I hid in the local park, praying Deeks would come back to the last place we’d slept, but he never showed. Eventually I was so hungry I couldn’t stand another minute, so I slipped back into my itchy-fingered ways, all the while looking for my brother.