Page 34 of Broken by my Bully
Teagan sees my shoulders slope down with relief and mustmistake it for resignation because she gives me a pat on the arm as she passes. “Don’t worry, he paid. Even left a tip.”
I clock out at ten that night with a faint headache and an urgent need for some sleep. Since I made a few bucks in tips and got some studying done, I’m going to call it a win.
Plus, I scored half a stale apple pie, a quarter gallon of questionable milk, and fries a customer sent back because the waitress got their side order wrong.
It’s me. I’m the waitress.
I’m on a no-money diet, so yeah, I take liberties. And I definitely take the fries.
I’ve developed this fun new habit of juggling too many things as I try to get into my car. My apple pie almost ends up on the ground. But thankfully the car door is halfway open, so it crash lands on the front seat instead.
On top of my textbooks.
Shit.
Crouching half-in, half out of the car, I wedge the milk jug in the passenger-side footwell, between a wadded up sweater and a pair of distressed vintage leather boots. Then I carefully scoop the apple pie back into the takeout container and start dusting crumbs and apple goo off the stack of library books.
“God, Haven, could you be more clumsy?” I mutter to myself as I stare at my sticky hands.
“Sure you can. Remember that time you fell into that puddle of mud by the creek?” Kai says behind me.
I shoot up in surprise so fast, I knock my head.
The pie drops into the seat again.
“Fuck!”
“What happened to the girl who used to say ‘fudge?’” Kai peers calmly at me as I turn to face him, the heel of my hand pressed to the aching spot on my head.
“What thefudgeare you doing here?”
He shrugs, glances around. “Felt like some coffee. Pity you’re already closed.”
Teagan parks in front of the diner because she says she gets all her steps in working her shift. All the customers have left. My car is the only one in the parking lot.
Kai must have been waiting in the shadows, because I didn’t notice him when I came out. No one with good intentions lurks in the dark.
“Right,” I mutter, dropping my hands to my sides. “Let me guess, you were just in the neighborhood?”
“No.”
When he sees how surprised I am, he smiles wryly. “I’m not as good a liar as you are, Haven.”
It’s not the cool breeze blowing past us that makes my skin prickle. He walks closer, forcing me to back up, but there’s only a few inches for me to go before the back of my legs hit the car.
“I don’t come down to Riverside anymore. It’s too hard to get the stink out of my clothes. But when—“ he glances away for a second “—afriendof mine spotted you here, I had this sudden craving for pie.”
The guy in the red hoodie.
I fuckingknewsomething was up with that guy.
“Cool story. Now stay the hell away from me.”
We both move at the same time.
I slide to the side, grabbing the top of the car door so I can close it behind me. He darts forward, laying his hand over mine, blocking me in the gap with his body. There’s a pinch as he tightens his grip. Then a burst of pain when he pushes a hand into my chest just below my collar bones, grinding me against the sharp jamb.
I grab the back of his hand, trying to pull him away. Trying to tug my fingers free where he has them curled over the top of the door.
