Page 95 of Rules to Love By

“That they make everything much better?”

“More like no setting them off in our kitchen.”

“I’m just trying to help.”

“We like to wait for people to ask for help first, though.”

She snorted.

“Steph.”

“Fine. Whatever.” She turned to the customer approaching the window and smiled brightly at them. “How can I help you?”

She was right, which annoyed Eli no end. He’d procrastinated over a year in telling his father he’d dropped out of school, and more important, that he didn’t plan on trying again. Ever. He’d managed to avoid the conversation or sidestep the questions. He was lying to the one person in his life who deserved the truth, because he was afraid to hurt him.

If he wanted Marcus the way he thought he did, how would that work if he couldn’t be honest with him if it might hurt one of them? And how would it work the first time he introduced Marcus to his father officially, and asked him not to mention the whole dropping-out-of-university thing? He couldn’t ask Marcus to lie for him. Not even by omission.

Once again, he put his head down on the counter.

Why did she have to be right?

He was still lying there, quietly panicking over how he would go about executing the decision he knew he’d already made, when the door from the back rooms opened.

He lifted his head.

Marcus stood there, eyes red, face pale.

Schiffer appeared behind him, compact and almost a head shorter than Marcus, but with a hand on his shoulder that seemed to be keeping Marcus on his feet.

Eli bolted to him. “Are you okay?”

Marcus nodded.

“What happened?”

Marcus glanced over his shoulder at Schiffer, who raised one shoulder. “Up to you, but as we talked about, the less you talk about this, the fewer rumours can circulate.”

“People will just speculate,” Marcus said dully. “They always do. Just like after Iris’s first stroke. This guy used to come to the diner, like, every Thursday morning or something. He’d sit in the back, order something different off the menu every time, and quietly watch the place. He never had any company. He tipped really well, and he was just… there. Then one Thursday, he didn’t show. Never came back. That was over a year ago, and people still talk about him. Wonder what happened to him. Speculate all the gruesome ways he kicked it, or what kind of psycho killer he was that he had to skip town to avoid being caught.” He frowned and stopped talking.

Everyone had stopped what they were doing to listen to him.

“Shit.” Marcus shook himself. “Sorry. I—”

Schiffer patted his shoulder. “No need.”

“I’m just tired.”

“Understandable. Get some rest. I will contact the police and arrange an appointment.” He nodded to the room in general. “I’ll be in touch.”

“Yeah.” It seemed Marcus had to force himself into action, and it was a moment before he took a step. “Thanks, eh?”

“Of course, Marcus.” Schiffer smiled at him, and it seemed genuine. “We will get this sorted out. For now, you need to relax and get some sleep.” He glanced around the room. “Gentlemen.” He nodded to Steph. “Ma’am.”

“Oh please,” Steph muttered.

Lucky didn’t hide his grin very well, and she stuck her tongue out at him.

“Thank you, Mark.” Kreed walked him towards the kitchen door, then through it and across the dining room. “We really appreciate you coming on such short notice.”

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