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I need her, he whispers.
It’s not his voice, though. It’s mine. But it’s not my thought. It comes from some nefarious place that isn’t part of me, even though it’s inside me.
No, Kane. Leave her, I respond in my head. I don’t know if he can hear me, but even if he can, he’ll likely ignore me.
I guess he doesn’t like that answer, because an explosion ricochets through my mind. My heart gallops and my vision blurs until the whole diner becomes abstract. I’m losing control. Kane is taking over. And he’ll hurt that poor girl, all because I took a liking to her.
Sweat gathers on my temples as each breath grows sharper. I drop the mug and it spills hot coffee all over my lap before it skitters off the counter and shatters on the diner floor.
Chapter Four
Aurora
Shattering glass draws my attention. The sound is brief, but it’s enough to overpower the low clatter and hum of the diner. A man sits at the counter, his lap covered in coffee. The shards of a white mug litter the ground beneath his stool. His eyes scour the counter, likely searching for paper towels or napkins as the liquid sinks into his jeans, but the only napkin holder at the counter is empty, and the rest are spread across the restaurant.
I grab a stack of napkins from the dispenser at my table and bring them to him. He takes the crinkled sheets of tan paper and brings them to his shirt, dabbing at the material before turning his focus to his jeans.
“Thanks,” he says, a bit of a southern twang in his deep voice. His dark eyes move up my body before he turns away without saying another word.
He seems completely disinterested in conversation, and I feel pretty awkward just standing here, so I back away. I did my good deed for the day.
I settle back in my seat and stare at the empty tabletop. I’ve been here for a while without so much as a nod from any staff. The waitress finally spots me now that I’ve been to the counter and back, and she approaches my table and asks what I’d like.
What I’d like is a steak dinner, complete with a baked potato, side salad, and a glass of Moscato, but I doubt I could even afford the potato at this point. After the cost of my shower, I might have enough for some oil-burned fries and a drink. My stomach growls at the thought of anything edible.
“A small order of fries and a small Coke,” I say.
The disappointment in my tone must be really apparent, because Mr. Friendly looks over at me from the counter. “Give her whatever she wants,” he calls across the restaurant.
“Excuse me?” I say.
“Order whatever you want. On me.”
I shake my head at the waitress despite the utter protest of my stomach. That bitch says I’d drop to my knees for a meal at this point. “The fries are fine.”
“Girl, if you want a goddamn steak, get it,” the man says.
I swallow. “No, really, I?—”
“Consider it my thank you.”
The waitress shifts her weight on her white-sneakered feet, clearly growing impatient with our argument. Before I can say anything else, he places a wad of bills on the counter, stands up, and heads for the door.
A bell dings overhead as he exits the diner, and I can’t help but stare through the dirt-streaked window as he makes his way across the parking lot. His jeans hang low, and a nice leather belt keeps them from dropping off his waist. Heavy black boots peek beneath his crisp pant legs with each step he takes, and a flannel shirt hugs his muscled arms. He moves like an animal stalking through grass, somehow slow and fast at the same time. Somehow...kind of sexy.
The man stops beside the fanciest truck I’ve ever seen and climbs inside. From the shape of the tractor, I can tell it houses an extended sleeper. I’ve only been inside one like that, and this one is even bigger. I can’t help but wonder what the bed is like inside. I’m sick of low, shitty bunk beds.
I bet it’s comfortable.
And clean.
The waitress clears her throat, and I turn toward her. I feel bad for making her wait, but I feel even worse about taking the guy’s money. Then again, he’s already left the building and it would be a real shame to let that money go to waste.
Fuck it.
“I’d like a steak, please, with a baked potato if you have any.”
The waitress walks away.
