Page 89 of Sacrifice the Knight (Checkmate 6)

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Katrina

Head held high, shoulders back, hair appropriately fluffed, I walk into the diner with new energy and resolve flowing in my veins. I will not pout anymore. I will not cry for him again. I will not hug my pillow and smell his aftershave.

I will not cry for any man ever again.

I pass Ray and Gloria and smile when they wave. I pass Eric’s booth, but refuse my heart the little skip it wants to give. He’s not sitting on the cheap vinyl while he waits for me; he’s not eatingyou fucked my brains outcookies. He’s not anywhere in sight. And that’s fine with me, because looking at him makes me furious, and fury makes me cry. This is best.

My ex broke into my home last night and scared the hell out of me. He was always a nuisance, an annoyance, a pain in my damn ass, but he was never a threat to me. He never scared me.

Until last night.

So now I’m two for two. Two exes, two annoying blips in my past. One of them wants to force his way into my life. Literally. And the other feels sorry for mymisunderstandingand can’t escape fast enough. Pathetically, the second is the one I want more than I want to breathe.

Dammit, Katrina! No pouting.

I’m determined to be proud, insistent on standing on my own two feet, but last night, while I sat with one man, all I wanted was for Eric to stand from that fucking stool and tell me he’s sorry. To promise the weeks since I last saw him were a lie, to take me in his arms and whisper that he’s staying forever, and that I never have to be sad again. I wanted him to hold me while I worked through my fear, but all I got was stony silence and an impassive stare.

Like we’re strangers. Which, ironically, is all I promised him when this all began.

Customers fill eighty percent of the diner while Tammy runs herself ragged filling orders and delivering drinks. It seems extra busy this morning, so even Eric’s old booth is filled with new faces. A young family eats their pancakes; a thirty-something-year-old fourth-generation accountant-lookalike sits with his perfect little wife and their perfect little daughter. The mother’s hair is stylish and curled, and the little girl eats her pancakes without dropping a single piece onto her cute little outfit.

Fuck them and their white picket fence.

Tammy rushes from one table to the next, but she does it with a smile and a wiggle to her hips as she moves. That booth once belonged to a man I’d become accustomed to seeing every day. I put on my man-hater act, but every single day, I watched and waited. I smiled when he came in, pretended to be exasperated with his questions about the specials, and all the while, I acted like he didn’t make my stomach flutter.

Some men are loud and demand attention. And some possess a quiet confidence that ensure you feel safe. Broad chests and strong arms are comforting, even if the mouth is rarely used. They’re the most dangerous type of men, because in their silence, they watch everything.

No pouting!

“Katrina?” Stefan’s voice snaps from the kitchen and brings me around at a fast spin. He rushes forward and looks a little like a rhino charging as he crosses the diner and pulls me into a tight hug that steals the breath from my lungs. “That asshole was at your place making trouble again?” His words are barely a whisper, since he knows I don’t want my business shouted in public, but the intensity behind his whispered growl registers the same.

Dangerous.

“What did he do, sweetpea? Did he hurt you?”

“He did what he always does.” I try to move around him. “Mac, honey.” I snag Mac’s hand and bring his attention away from the perfect little family. “Go sit down and read your book for English. I’ll bring you something to eat in a second.” As soon as my son walks away with an air of danger I just don’t recognize in him, I turn back to Stefan. “Drop it.”

“I will not!” He follows me into the hall, past the bathrooms and into the locker room. “Katrina! What happened?”

“He broke my door. It’s his thing, I guess.” I toss my bag into my locker so the metal buckles slam against the steel sides. “He’s like a child kicking a wall when they’ve been grounded. That’s all he did; now he’s been arrestedagain; my son traumatized himself and doesn’t even realize it yet, and I forgot the password to my new front door, so I’ll probably sleep here tonight.”

He rolls his eyes and watches me fasten a fresh apron around my hips. “You got a new door?”

“Yeah, the guys at Checkmate took care of it. They did up a whole security system that I honestly cannot remember how to use. I was running on adrenaline last night. I thought I was listening while they explained it, but now I forget it all.”

“Honey…”

“It’s fine.” I throw up a shaking hand to shush him. “Mac remembers his password, so he can get us back in. I’ll shoot Spence a text later and figure out the rest.”

“Spence?” Stefan’s thick brows pull close. “Who the hell is Spence?”

“He’s mysecurity specialist.” I lift my hands and do the air quotes. “According to his business card. He said he has me on speed dial, and I have twenty-four-hour clearance to contact him.Clearance.” I stop and glare. “He didn’t say access; he said clearance like I’m a fucking soldier and know how to speak his language. Now I have a fancy new watch that allegedly has a panic button that we don’t call a panic button, lest we incite panic.”

“Honey…” He stops me when I try to pass. “I’m so confused. Are you saying Spence is from Checkmate?”

“Uh-huh.”

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