Chapter Two
Temple
One of my new favorite sounds in the world was the ringing of the bell on the counter.
A tiny win for the day. And on a Saturday like today, there were lots of tiny wins.
Part of that was because of me. I thought up a new gimmick.
Surprise Saturdays. It was born out of necessity, wanting and needing to use up what was in the fridge at the end of the week.
Gary loved the idea. He did the cooking before I came to work here, along with Peter, the other cook, but I did most of the breakfast service now.
He was the owner, so coming up with ideas was a kind of job security I took seriously.
People flocked into the Good Times Diner on Saturday mornings now. Families in tow. If they ordered a Surprise Saturday, then I made pancakes with my choice of toppings and integrations. They probably didn’t know it was simply a good way to use up bits and pieces from the week.
“What’s this one?” Layla asked, sliding the plate from the metal counter. She was Gary’s wife and sweet as could be. They were both the best bosses and really good to the customers. Made sense why this place did so well despite being in a small town.
“Pineapple upside down.” I winked at her.
“Good choice. The strawberry-dark chocolate ones went over well too. You have a tip jar of your own now.”
She flitted away to deliver the order, but I stood there, mouth wide open. Sometimes Layla would share her gratuities with me but, in general, cooks didn’t receive them.
With a whistle on my lips, I went back to work. The orders came in steadily, and I stayed busy until after one when Gary came in and removed the spatula from my grip.
“Hey!” I teased. “I was in a groove.”
“Well, young man, I’m feeling groovy myself. Move out of the way and watch the master do his work.”
I put my hands up and stepped back. Gary wasn’t wrong. He was indeed the master. I’d never seen him behind. Ever.
Layla called out the orders differently when he was on the grill. They had their own language, a unique way of communicating. It was something to behold.
“Want a burger before you head out?”
Hearing him say that made my stomach sink. The last place I wanted to go was home. It wasn’t the safest place for me. Never had been.
“I can stay for the rest of the afternoon shift. Prep some things for Sunday dinner.” Another big sell in the diner.
Heavy food. Chicken-fried steak. Meat loaf.
Mashed potatoes. Carrot soufflé. Cornbread stuffing.
Layla’s specialty, but she taught Gary how to make it a long time ago.
It would keep you full until Tuesday at least.
“No. No. I’ve got this. You’ve been here since before the sun rose. Go home. Get some rest.”
I hesitated. The last thing I wanted to do was go back to the cramped apartment I shared with my brothers.
They didn’t work. Relied on resources that didn’t belong to them, including my paycheck.
I had a bit of money stashed away. Shared tips from Layla and some I picked up bussing the tables when it was busy or someone didn’t show up.
“Do I have to?” I murmured more to myself than anyone else.
“Still giving you hell? Those brothers of yours?” Gary paused between flipping juicy half-pound patties. There was never a shortage of burger orders.
“Sometimes.”
“The offer still stands, Temple. You can live in the apartment above the grill. We keep it up. Everything is clean and ready.”
My brothers would never stand for that. My history with them and my family situation fueled everything in my life. Their bullying. Their constant abuse.
“I appreciate that. I really do. But they’re the only family I have.”
Gary put his hand on my forearm. “That’s not true anymore. Family isn’t just blood.”
“Thank you. One day, I might take you up on that.”
Before going back to the apartment, I shoved the tips into my jacket pocket.
They wouldn’t check there. I got paid that morning but the money was already gone.
Rent. Utilities. My brothers would raise hell about there not being more for their never-ending hunger, since they were shifters, but I could only make so much.
Plus, I was supporting a family of four on one income.
They all refused to work.
I still didn’t understand that logic, but intelligence hadn’t ruled their decisions so far.
The closer I got to the apartment complex, the more I began to shake. My home life was hell, and I had no idea how to get out of this situation.
If I tried to move out, they would hunt me down, not a hard task in this small town, and either drag me back or leave me unable to flip another pancake in my life.
They were that bad.
My only chance, the tiniest bit of a chance, was buying a bus ticket, but I only had enough saved up to get across the state.
Not far enough as far as I was concerned.
I knew better than to get home with no groceries, so I stopped at the market and picked up what I could with what was left from my paycheck. It was enough to last me an entire week, maybe two, but for them? I would be lucky if it lasted three days. Damned lucky.
Their bad behavior was all blamed on being a shifter. When I was younger, I wanted to be like them. Shifting into wolves. Running wild. Having supernatural senses.
Now? I wanted to be nothing like them. Have nothing to do with shifters.
I took the stairs to our apartment as slowly as possible, but as I reached the top step, the door flung open.
Let the torture begin.