The black leatherette booths lined up in front of the windows with tables dispersed between them and the main counter. Most of the stools were taken, and people lined up behind them to make their orders. Janice stood behind the counter, her dark-red hair falling out of her ponytail as she scribbled on a pad, so I stepped toward her.
“I’ll be right there, Jan!” I shouted over the fray of students who wouldn’t do without their shakes.
“Oh, thank god.” She raised her hands in the air. “It’s Friday.”
The diner sat in the middle of the college and high school, which made for periods where we were rushed off our feet. The most popular time was when the high school would get out on a Friday. Apparently, there was something about Fridays that made all the students want milkshakes and fries. Life here was drastically different from home, and yet, I was only an hour away. These kids didn’t know the hardship of growing up where I did. All that mattered was if they made their grades and what four-year college they could get into.
“Yep.” I nodded, moved behind the counter, and pushed through the open door. The staff quarters was one room with a wall of lockers, a small table, and a sink. I yanked my jacket off and stuffed it in my locker along with my bag and pulled out my uniform, which consisted of a red dress and black apron. Once I was ready, I tied my brown hair into a messy bun at the base of my neck and ushered myself into the bustling diner.
Jan and I made quick work of taking everyone’s orders and passed them through to Sal—the owner and cook—and the other cook in the kitchen behind the counter. The pass that separated the two areas was soon filled with plates upon plates of fries, and we couldn’t get them out fast enough.
There was one thing other than money that this job offered me: a reprieve from my life. While I was here serving customers, I didn’t have to think about what I was going home to. All I thought about was the next order and whose table it was going to.
By the time most of the kids had gone, the darkness had taken over outside. Jan clocked out just after nine so she could get home to her eight-year-old daughter, Aria, and left Sal and me until midnight when we’d close.
“Here you go, Lola-Girl,” Sal’s deep voice announced from behind me. He placed a burger and fries on the counter that I was wiping down. “Get that food down you.”
I wanted to tell him I was fine, but my grumbling stomach wouldn’t allow me, so instead, I sat on one of the stools and took a bite of the burger. “Thank you,” I mumbled as I chewed the juicy meat and bun.
He inclined his head, ran his large hand over the grease-stained apron that covered his slightly rounded stomach, and pulled out a pack of smokes. “I’m heading outside for five.”
I nodded and took another bite of the burger, closing my eyes briefly and relishing in it. It was the calm after the storm, and soon we’d have drunk college students coming in for their Friday night snack. I estimated we had about an hour before that happened, and I’d use it to my advantage.
I pulled my little pad out of my apron and placed it next to my plate. I needed to brainstorm ideas on how to get out of that house quicker. Things were getting worse, and I’d be damned if I’d end up being one of those girls—the kind who let someone else tell them who they were and what they could do.
A smile curved on my lips. I was sure I got my determination from my mom because Dad never gave a shit about bettering himself. All he ever cared about was where his next fix and meal was coming from. I had to remind myself that he hadn’t always been like that because the memories of when I was a little girl and lived in a loving family home were getting farther and farther away. They were getting harder to latch on to and replay in my mind, but the morning of my eighth birthday wouldn’t ever leave me. Pancakes and presents with my mom and dad watching me from the opposite side of the table with huge grins on their faces were etched into my mind like a scar. I lived for the memories stored away in my brain, desperate to make new ones that were just as happy.
“Looks like you’re thinking pretty hard there, Lola-Girl,” Sal said from behind me.
I jumped on the stool, my heart galloping in my chest. “Crap, Sal. You scared the shit out of me.”
His huge grin lifted his chubby cheeks and showcased his crooked front tooth. “Gotta keep you young’uns on your toes some way, huh?”
“Yeah, well”—I shook my head—“you almost gave me a heart attack.”
I spun back around on the stool, picking at the crispy fries that were left on my plate. Sal’s whistling became the soundtrack in the practically empty diner as I struggled to find ideas. If I didn’t care how I made money, then I knew I could be out of that house quicker, but that would defeat the purpose. I wanted out from under all the seedy things that were happening right under my nose, not to get further into it. And I had a feeling that if I took one step in with Hut, he really would never let me go.
“Plotting how to take over the world?”
I lifted my head and focused my attention on Sal, who now stood on the other side of the counter, wiping down the pass. “Something like that,” I murmured, scribbling a square on the corner of the page. “I need to make more money.” I paused, debating whether I should ask or not. “Do you have any extra hours?”
Sal leaned his forearms on the counter, his dark-blue-eyed gaze not moving off my face. “What do you need more money for?”
I glanced away. “I want to move out.”
“Hmm.” Sal was silent for a second, and when I looked back at him, he was scanning the page I’d written on. “I don’t have any extra hours to give you, but you could do this one.” He tapped his finger next to the word “tutoring.”
“I could, but…” I sighed, hating that I was being a defeatist. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”
“Well, your first step would be to make a flyer.” Sal stood to his full height and raised a brow. “You can hang it up in here.”
I blinked. Maybe he was onto something? We always had high school students coming in here, tonight was proof of that, and even if only one of them needed tutoring, it would help me out.
“You could use the back room too if you wanted.”
My nose burned, my eyes welling up. “Why?” I croaked out. “Why would you do that for me?”
Sal stared, but his gaze flicked over my shoulder, his eyes glazing over. He was quiet for so long that I wondered if he’d forgotten I was even there. “Because sometimes you just need a hand to help you.” He shook his head and pushed his hand through his ink-black hair. “I was like you, Lola-Girl. I wanted to get out, and I did just that, but not without someone giving me a helping hand first.”
“I—”
He shook his head. “Make the flyer.” He turned around and walked into the kitchen, leaving me speechless and alone.
I was getting somewhere. Now all I needed was a plan of action, and planning was what I did best.
LOLA
I was sure nothing and nobody could wipe the smile off my face. The whole train ride home I’d been scribbling on a piece of paper in one of my notepads, designing the poster that I’d make at the library tomorrow.
Time was of the essence. The sooner I got the flyer pinned to a wall in the diner, the quicker someone would ask me to tutor them, which meant more money to get out of the house I was walking toward.
Friday nights weren’t just busy at the diner, but also at home. I knew what was going to greet me as soon as I walked in the door, but I didn’t care. It was only a matter of time, and then I’d be out of there.
The grease stench from working in the diner clung to my hair like its own personal perfume. I needed a shower and my bed, but I wouldn’t get that right away. I had to do my duties as “Hut’s” stepsister and say hi to the people who mattered—the ones who meant extra money in his pockets. I’d played my part well over the years—too well. I couldn’t stand any of the people who came to Hut’s Friday night parties, not that it mattered. I was here to serve a purpose.
“I
f it isn’t lovely Lola!”
I cringed at the off-pitch voice. “Hi, Carson.” I added more pep to my step as I pushed through the crowd and into the kitchen where he was currently holding court around our tiny kitchen table. “How you doing?”
His creepy smile extended across his pockmarked scarred face. “I’m good. Question is, how are you doing?” His gaze trailed over me, and I was thankful that I’d changed out of my diner uniform—just another tactic so Hut couldn’t find me. “You still trying that college thing?”
“Yep.” I hitched my smile up a notch. “You still doing that…” I spun my finger in the air and pointed at the cocaine spread on the table, ready for him to snort. “That coke thing.”
He threw his head back and laughed so loud that everyone in the kitchen paused their conversations. I could feel the burn of all their eyes on my back. I’d never liked being the center of attention. Some people—like my stepbrother—loved it. They relished in being the one person everyone listened to, to have what you did matter to them, but I didn’t. I’d always wanted to slip by, go unnoticed, and not have my name be the focus of their conversations, but it never worked out like that.
“Yeah.” He dipped his head and snorted a line, closing his eyes in euphoria. “Want some?” he asked, opening his eyes and dipping the tip of his finger in the stark-white powder. “You know I like to share.” I was sure his smirk worked on the girls he surrounded himself with, but all it did was make me shiver—and not the good kind. He ran his finger over his gums, sighing at the sensation.
“I’m good thanks.” I flicked my gaze around the kitchen, searching for someone or something to get me away from Carson the Creep—that was my own nickname, and I’d nearly called him that several times to his face. “Oh, there’s Hut. I better go say hi.” I lifted my hand in a wave as I stepped back. “I’ll catch you later.”
He ran his gaze over me again, this time stopping on my chest as he murmured, “Yeah, you will.”
I slipped past the horde of people and toward the door that led to our tiny backyard. Hut was leaning against the closed door in deep conversation with the new guy from the other night, and I hesitated for a second. I remembered Hut calling him Brody, but no one around here used their real names, not when they wanted to keep part of their lives secret. All these people at this party thought they knew Hut. He portrayed an easygoing, party atmosphere, but that was just the skin to the onion. They didn’t know about his many layers. Layers that, when revealed, you couldn’t put back.
Brody lifted his head, sensing my approach, and I smiled gently. His stoic face held no expression, and I couldn’t tell whether that was a good thing or not. I was pretty good at reading people, but that meant I could sense what they were thinking about me, and they never held back, especially not Hut.
“Hey.” I halted a couple of feet away, waiting for Hut to acknowledge me, but the muscle ticking in his jaw was screaming at me to walk away. “I just wanted to—”
“Fuck’s sake, Lola. I’m busy. Fuck off.”
I clenched my teeth together so hard one was sure to crack. I knew his game well. If I ignored him when I came home, I’d have hell to pay the day after. “I—”
Hut swung his head around, his pupils so large they nearly came to the edges of his irises. He was as high as a kite, and that could go one of two ways—bad or really bad. “Did you not hear what I just said?” He stepped toward me, his nostrils flaring, and hands clenched by his sides. “Fuck. Off. I’m busy. I ain’t got time for a whore like you.”
If I cared what he thought about me, that would probably hurt, but seeing as though I didn’t give a flying fuck, his insult went right over my head. “I was just letting you know that I was home.” It took every bit of strength in my body to keep my voice calm and not say what I really wanted to. Fuck you, you fucking douche.
“Do I look like your fuckin' dad?” he roared, causing everyone in the kitchen to go silent for a second time. “But then, your dad is never here, huh? He’s off fuckin' anything he can and getting his next fix.” He stepped closer to me, his chest only inches away from mine. I cringed as his hot breath fanned over my face. “Gonna end up like him, ain’t ya, Lola? Washed up and used, not giving a shit about anything—”
“Stop!” My breaths sawed in and out of my body, and I could feel the heat on my face as my anger spread through me like wildfire. Normally, I’d back away, placate him so that he didn’t lose his cool, but I was sick and tired of doing what I could to keep the peace. “Fuckin' stop it!” My voice was raw from how loud I shouted, but I couldn’t take it anymore.
Hut raised his brow, and let his shoulders droop, a calm washing over him that didn’t mean anything good. “What did you say?” His voice was low, deceptively soft. He was a master at deceiving and confusing. That was how he’d gotten as far as he had.
“I said—” I drew in a deep breath, needing to exude calm too, but I was failing miserably. I didn’t want to admit how much his words hurt, and it wasn’t because of who was saying them. It was what he’d said. I didn’t want to end up like my dad, which was why I was working so hard, and why I killed myself with the number of hours I worked and upped my college class load. Because I wouldn’t allow myself to become like him, like any of them. “Stop it.”
Hut’s hand whipped out, his large, rough palm gripping me around the throat. The force of it had me stumbling back, but he didn’t break his hold on me. Instead, he spun me around and slammed my back against the wall causing my breath to whoosh out of me.
This wasn’t the first time he’d done something like this, but he usually only hurt me with his words. I was used to him putting me down because that was where his control came from. Control I refused to give him. Even at this moment, being held against the wall by my throat, my breathing harsh and getting harder to come by, I still didn’t concede. The moment I did, my life as I knew it would be over.
The room was basked in silence, every person waiting to see what his next move was. This was new for Hut, doing it in front of his guests, but he was showing me exactly who he was. Gone was the Emerson I had once known, and now all that existed was Hut. I desperately wanted to look around and silently beg people to help me, but the prospect of glancing away from him wasn’t one I wanted to entertain.
His hand squeezed harder around my neck, and my arms shot up to grip his forearms. His eyes were wild, not focusing on any one point on my face. It was as if he was watching a ping-pong ball shoot from left to right on a table.
“You don’t talk to me like that,” he growled, leaning closer to me and choking me to the point where I couldn’t catch a breath at all. I scraped my short nails down his arms, feeling blood gather underneath them. I wasn’t sure whether it was his blood or mine, but I hoped it was enough for him to let go. “You’re lucky you’re family.” His breath fanned over my face. “Because if you weren’t, I’d have cut your voice box out so you could never talk to me again.”
His muscles flexed, his body begging him to do as he said, and I witnessed the glint of his knife in his other hand—a knife that he always had on him. At this point, I’d do anything to be able to take a full breath. The edges of my vision were starting to blacken, signaling that the impending passing out was close on the horizon.
I dug my nails into his skin, piercing him like an orange peel as I desperately tried to heave in a breath. My fight-or-flight instincts kicked in, and I couldn’t stop my gaze from flicking off Hut, but what I didn’t expect was my body’s immediate reaction to stare at Brody. He was the one person in this house who was least likely to help me, but his clenched fists at his side and the fire in his eyes gave me hope that he’d step in. That he’d stop Hut from killing me in front of all these people because, right then, it was a real possibility.
I begged Brody with my eyes, hoping like hell he’d speak up as Hut’s grip became as tight as a vise.
“Hut,” Brody called, letting his fists uncurl as he stepped forward. He pulled his vibrating
cell out and held it up between us. “You got a call.”
Hut stared at me for one last second and moved his attention to the screen of the cell. His muscles jerked, his hand squeezing one last time, and then he let go. He didn’t say a word as he stepped back, yanked the cell out of Brody’s grip, and walked away.
My body sagged, my hands cupping my sore neck, and I greedily dragged in burning breaths.
Chapter Three
BRODY
It took every ounce of strength I had not to yank Hut’s hand from her neck. The girl was just a kid. She may not have carried herself like that, but her file told me she was only nineteen—young enough to have been my daughter.
At thirty-five, I’d seen a lot of shit in my life. I wasn’t a stranger to a man hurting a woman, or even the other way around. Violence was the norm in this life, but I could always step in and stop it. I’d become who I was now to be able to have a say. To punish those who thought it was okay to hurt other people because that was the crux of everything. I could list off lines and lines of crimes, and they’d all hurt someone if not physically then emotionally. It wasn’t someone else’s right to hurt. And yet I’d stood there while Hut choked the shit out of the kid.
I couldn’t step in between them, no matter how much I wanted to. It would blow everything we’d worked toward for the last two years. One wrong move and it could all be over in the click of fingers. I wouldn’t do that to myself, and I certainly wouldn’t do it to my team.
And then her eyes met mine. The pleading showcased in her teary, hazel pools had my stomach dipping. My body swayed toward her, and I had to pull it back while hoping no one else had seen the exchange. She was begging me to help her. The one person in this house who shouldn’t have cared, and yet I seemed to be the only one who gave a shit. The room was full of people. People who stood by and let Hut choke her to the point of her passing out. But I wasn’t so sure he’d stop there. He had a wildness about him tonight when I’d turned up. Something I’d yet to see from him.
Fallen Duet: Brody & Lola: Free Fall & Down Fall (Easton Family Duet Boxsets Book 1) Page 2
