Page 54 of Falling for the Wrong Guy

The big one stared up at me with a look that sent a chill through me. “Then start ‘em back up. And bring us some menus.” I worked hard to keep my posture upright and confident. The last thing I wanted was for them to think I was afraid. I walked behind the counter where I’d left my phone. They were watching every step I made, so I had to be quick. I sent off a brief text that said, “need u,” slipped the phone into my pocket and grabbed two menus. I dropped them in front of the men.

“We’ll take some cola on ice,” the big one said. “Jack, follow her to the kitchen to make sure she doesn’t pull any funny business.”

Jack unfolded his long, lanky frame from the chair. He had a long, sharp nose that jutted out over a thin mouth. Strands of long, greasy hair hung down over his forehead. The panels of his leather jacket parted, exposing a knife tucked into a leather sheath on his belt. “Let’s go,” he said.

It was hard to steady my hands as I filled two glasses with ice and cola. “Two double cheeseburgers and fries,” the big one said as he tossed the menus at me.

“The fryer is shut down, and the oil is cool. It’ll take thirty minutes to heat it.”

He looked out the window. The rain was starting to fall. “We’ve got time to wait. The weather isn’t cooperating anymore today.”

I walked to the kitchen, and Jack’s boots smacked the floor behind me. He stopped in the doorway to the kitchen and started looking at his phone, all the while keeping one of his beady eyes on me. I pulled four burger patties out of the bin in the refrigerator and carried them out to the stove.

“I like mine rare and Isaac likes ‘em medium. Got that?” he asked angrily.

I turned on the grill and started up the fryer. It felt as if my legs were moving through tar, and it was hard to catch a decent breath. I opened the bread box, and two rolls fell out and dropped to the floor. If creepy Jack hadn’t been standing right there, I would have dragged those rolls around the floor a few times before putting them on plates. But he watched with his ugly sneer to make sure I pulled new ones from the box.

“I don’t want sesame seeds,” he said.

“That’s all I’ve got.”

“Then scrape them off. I don’t like ‘em.”

I felt nauseous as I dropped the meat on the grill. I had a rack of sharp knives, but I couldn’t see any scenario where I pulled one free to protect myself against two men who were also armed with knives. My best bet was to prepare their meal and hope they ate fast and left without a problem.

“Hey, Ice, you gonna want pickles?” Jack’s loud voice startled me, and I dropped the spatula.

His lip lifted on one side. “You sure are clumsy.”

I walked to the drawer and got a new spatula.

“We both want pickles and onion. You know what? Make that grilled onions.”

With each new request, my resolve to stay strong dissolved. I pulled out the onions I’d cut for tomorrow and dropped some onto the hot grill.

“What about the fries?” he asked.

“I told you the oil has to heat.”

“Well, if those burgers get done before the fries, then you’ll have to start ‘em again.”

I’d tried to remain stoic and strong, but I could feel myself falling apart with each of their demands. I blinked back tears as I lowered the heat on the grill and raised the heat on the deep fryer. I had no idea how this would turn out.

I would never forgive myself for not locking the door after my sisters left.

ChapterThirty-Five

Dex

The one thing you never wanted to see when you got to a loved one’s hospital room was a group of medical personnel standing around the bed with worried brows and frowns. The doctor Angie and I had spoken to the night before, Dr. Halvert or something like that, was the first to look up when I stepped into the room. I was extremely relieved to hear the monitors beeping their usual chorus.

I swallowed to relieve the dryness in my throat. “Is there any change?” It was the only question I could think of, but I knew, from the expressions on the faces in the room that there had been a change, and it wasn’t a good one.

Dr. Halvert gave a few orders to the attending nurses and then the team walked out. None of them made eye contact with me except Nurse Jessop. She patted my arm softly before leaving. My throat had gone from dry to parched, and my stomach was clenched in an iron knot by the time the doctor made his way around the end of the bed to talk to me.

“We’d hoped that the fever would have come down by now. We’re increasing the antibiotic doses, but this will be the last time. We’ll be at max dosage.”

I looked over at Quinn. Again, I had to search for the tattoo on his forearm to make sure it was really him in the bed.

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