Chapter Twelve
B There Soon
I would be lying if I said Romeo’s rainbows-and-sunshine comment hadn’t affected me. Even hours later at work, it would cross my mind at the weirdest moments—taking someone’s order, rolling utensils into napkins, manning the register at the to-go counter. I hadn’t just heard his words; I’d felt them deep down in a place I didn’t know I had. And there it sat, glowing like an ember that kept me warm throughout the day.
Though that could have just been the weather, I tried telling myself as I showed a boisterous family of four to a booth in the back. For the first time in over a week, the temperature finally climbed out of the freezing range and gifted the city with an afternoon full of springlike weather. The snow was melting fast, and everyone had ditched their heavy winter coats in favor of sweaters and hoodies. Perfect weather for going for a ride on the back of Romeo’s bike…
A sound of exasperation escaped me as I made my way to the front of the restaurant. There it was again, the ever-growing obsession my silly brain had with Romeo. I shook my head as I found one of my orders waiting for me under the heat lamps, and as I loaded up my arms I tried to figure out why the obsession was there in the first place. He was beyond gorgeous, of course, with a body any sculptor would have swooned over. Any female with a pulse—not to mention quite a few men—would have found him irresistible.
Then there was the way he treated me, like I was a delicate princess in need of all the pampering. The cynic in me insisted that the only reason Romeo had talked to me in the first place was so he could get a foot in the door with my brother, and that could very well be the case.
At least in the beginning.
But it didn’t explain that mind-blowing finger-banging session he’d selflessly given me, all the while promising me that tonight I’d have the chance to pay him back.
Warmth flushed through my body until I was certain I glowed, and the place between my legs grew damp with achy, sweet need. Tonight. Oh, how I would enjoy paying him back for all the pleasure he’d given me. And I’d make sure he enjoyed it, too.
That, of course, led to the biggest reason I was obsessed with Romeo, a man whose legal name I didn’t even know. That man was a straight-up freak in the sheets. Of course, I didn’t know that much about sex. The one and only other man who’d been between my legs had been Marvel, and that had hardly been consensual. That bastard had actually had the gall to complain about how I was making a mountain our of a molehill when I begged him to stop raping me, and if I were smart I’d just calm down, relax, and enjoy “the ride” he was giving me.
God.
That was the ultimate mind-fuck when it came to stranger rape versus rape from someone you knew. With stranger rape, it was a cut-and-dried case of horrifying violence. But if rape happened with someone you knew, most people somehow viewed it as not a big deal. Marvel certainly looked at it that way. I doubted he even thought of it as rape, despite me screaming no until my throat was raw. I’d had a crush on him and consented to go out on a date, so in his mind I was sure he believed he’d had every right to do what he did.
But he hadn’t had any right to touch me.
None.
Marvel had been my only sexual experience—if it could even be called that—until Romeo, so clearly I didn’t have a lot to draw on. Maybe it was natural to obsess on someone who knew what to do with his hands and his cock. And oh, was he unselfish when it came to giving a woman pleasure—definitely another plus. I wasn’t crazy for obsessively thinking about a man like that, surely. Any woman would. It didn’t mean anything.
Probably.
The sun was setting when I realized I was starting to glance toward the glass front of the diner. It was a little early for Romeo to show up, but now that I knew who he was—though I still didn’t know his actual name—I had the hope that maybe he’d show up to keep me company. Maybe even get our evening started early with some good food and even better flirting. But the doorway remained stubbornly Romeo-less, so I did my best to focus on the mindless tasks of taking orders and schlepping food. That didn’t stop me from looking over every time I heard the door open, which was why I was the first to spot Marvel and his pal I had glimpsed from the Harley-Davidson store, Radar, when they ambled into the diner’s small wait-to-be-seated area.
Marvel.
Oh, shit.
Marvel.
Oh SHIT.
In a heartbeat I spun and went through the nearest door, which happened to lead to the kitchen and the small employee breakroom beyond. Had they seen me? It didn’t matter, I told myself, not stopping until I was in the empty breakroom, my breaths coming in sharp, audible gasps while my heart hammered so hard it hurt. Whether they’d actually put eyes on me or not was irrelevant. Since they’d never darkened Buzzby’s Diner before, it was obvious they were here for one purpose only.
Me.
Were they here to kidnap me again?
Oh God, oh God, oh God…
Stop it, I thought with a vicious snarl no one was there to hear. Just stop and think.
Run. I had to run. Run, run, run, run…
No.
I had to think.
Deliberately I slowed my breath and forced my internal screaming to stop.
Okay.
So. Marvel was here. With backup. If they were here to take me again, I’d fucking kill them. Hell, I’d kill myself before I would ever allow those bastards to lay a hand on me again. I was no one’s victim. Not anymore.
My phone was in my hand before I’d made a conscious decision. I thumbed the screen, found Romeo’s number, and let it rip.
“Help. Now. Marvel/Radar here at diner. Want to run.”
“Hey, Shiloh.” Dubya stuck his head into the breakroom, the harsh overhead lighting making his frizzy hair look like a clown wig. “We need you out on the floor.”
“Dubya, I’m…” The silent buzz of my phone clutched in my hand distracted me, and I quickly looked down.
“Stay put. Don’t engage. There might be more outside, waiting 4 u to rabbit. DON’T DO IT. B there soon.”
“Hurry.” My fingers were shaking so much I had to type it twice before hitting Send. “Please.”
“Hey, um, Shiloh. Seriously.” Dubya stepped all the way into the breakroom, keeping the door propped open with his foot. “The dinner rush is just getting started and we’ve already got a full house. I need you out there.”
“I know, I just, um…” My breath was shaking as much as my hands, and as I looked up at him I realized I was a hair away from bursting into freaked-out tears. “I can’t go back out there, Dubya.”
My manager blinked. “Excuse me?”
“There’s a man. I was… he was… he…” Again I tried to remind myself to breathe, but it was impossible. Panic was starting to sink its needle-sharp teeth into my soul, shutting down my higher brain function until all I could do was answer the call to hide. “There’s a man I know out there, a very bad man. I can’t go back out there. I just… I can’t go back out there.”
Dubya stared at me uncomprehendingly. “Shiloh, this is your job.”
“I know.”
“That is your function. That’s what you’re supposed to do—be out there taking orders and getting food. If you’re sick, I get it. But even then I need time to call up a replacement.”
“Then call for a replacement.” The words burst out of me. They sounded hysterical even to my ears. “And I am sick. I feel like I’m going to throw up. Is that what you want out there in front of your customers?”
Dubya made a sound of impatience. “What I want is for you to cut the dramatics and do… your… job. I don’t care who’s out there,” he went on when I opened my mouth to try to better explain that my personal demon was out there ready to eat my soul. “When you become an adult, there are times when you have to power through. This is one of those times.”
Oh, the condescending sonofa… “I’ve been living in the adult world for some time now, thanks.”
“Really? Because you don’t seem to know that if you can’t do your job, then… then you won’t have a job to do.” He huffed a bit, like that took a lot out of him. “There. I said what I said.”
I stared at him, stunned. “Dubya, I’ve worked here for four years and I’ve never missed a day. I’ve always come in whenever you needed someone to cover shifts, and I’ve never been a problem for you or any other employee. But the one time I have a crisis, you’re ready to fire me?”
“I won’t fire you if you get out there and get to work,” came the immediate reply. “And I feel I don’t have to explain my management style to you, thanks very much. It’s worked so far.”
“It’s worked because I’ve been here to cover whenever we were shorthanded. Just think how life will be around here without me to back you up.”
His eyes bulged behind his thick glasses. “Are you threatening me?”
Dear God, the stupidity. “You are the one who threatened to fire me, Dubya, about five seconds ago, remember? I’m just pointing out what the consequence to my firing will be.”
“You’re not indispensable.”
“With a full house, I’m more indispensable than you think.”
“I’m done debating this,” Dubya said, his voice flat with finality. “I’m going to go out to the floor now and do my job, because that is my function. If you’re not out there on the floor in five minutes doing the same thing, I’ll know you’ve quit.”
Annnd, there it was, the ultimate reason he was in management. The dude really knew how to screw people out of unemployment. “I’m not quitting, Dubya. I just won’t go out into a room where a man who once kidnapped and raped me is sitting in a booth expecting me to serve him buffalo wings and coffee.”
Dubya’s lips practically disappeared. “If you think that… that deranged fantasy is going to pull your derriere out of the fire, you’re sorely underestimating me. Get out there. Now.”
I made a sound of pure frustration before I surged past him out the door, jaw locked. I’d go out there, all right, because at the core of it all, I refused to let that bastard Marvel chase me away. But I was done at Buzzby’s. If Dubya wanted to know what it was like to work a shift or two without me, he was welcome to it.
But first, I had to walk into the lion’s den.
Head held high while my mouth dried up so much it hurt, I kept my eyes looking straight ahead. On autopilot, I reached for my order pad, then glanced at last at the reception area. A shaft of relief went through me when I saw Marvel and Radar were no longer there, but that relief was short-lived when I swept my section. There they were, both turned in my direction and eyes trained on me, big shit-eating grins on their faces.
You bastards.
The damaged teenaged girl I’d once been cowered deep down inside, and it hurt. It hurt so much to remember that I’d been helpless and humiliated, and I wanted to throw up in the worst way. Just looking at Marvel drew that deeply buried well of poison he’d left in me to the surface, and suddenly I relived that nightmare all over again, hearing my screams for him to stop as he brutally penetrated me, laughing all the while. The pain of it was so intense, the need to bolt out the door grew until it was all I knew. Panic rose thick and heavy while my heart hammered so hard it made my eyes water. I glanced toward the glass diner door, wavering…
Stay put and don’t engage.
Romeo.
I wasn’t sure I could just stay put. Never in my life had I wanted to make a run for it the way I wanted to now.
There might be more outside, waiting 4 u to rabbit.
But maybe there weren’t. Maybe it was okay, and I could just leave. Leave this nightmare behind in the past where it belonged. I thought I’d already done that, but obviously I hadn’t run far enough. Not a problem. After today I’d run and not stop until I hit a freaking ocean.
B there soon.
An icy calm slipped through the panic, and my heart rate slowed to the point where it no longer deafened me. Romeo. He said he would be here soon. He was coming to make sure I was okay. He cared about me, unlike Dubya, who’d known me for years. Maybe Romeo saw me as nothing more than a means to an end, but he’d already made a meet-up between my brother and the Gravediggers happen, and he was still coming to the rescue. I didn’t know how I knew he would show up, but I did.
Romeo would be here.
I didn’t doubt it for a second.
With that thought wrapping around me like armor, I lifted my chin and headed straight for Marvel’s table.
“Good evening, rapist, welcome to Buzzby’s.” The words came out automatically, and it wasn’t until Marvel’s eyes widened a fraction that I realized I’d added a little extra sauce to the usual greeting. Oh. Whoops. “We have a new special this month in honor of Elvis Presley’s birthday, peanut butter and banana pancakes with a cream chee—”
“What the hell did you just call me?” Marvel’s mud-brown eyes—how I’d once thought they were beautiful, I’d never know—narrowed, pinning me to the spot. “You might want to try that again, because no one’s going to buy that shit, Shiloh. What the fuck.”
Did this monster actually look offended? Oh yes, he did. “Geez, you don’t even know, do you? You have no clue that all these years, you’ve been nothing but a dirty, common rapist. You actually believe you didn’t force yourself on me over and over again for days while your shitty, unworthy brothers watched and laughed. You genuinely believe that nightmare I had to endure while I was your captive was a good time. How dare you? How dare you walk among normal, good people instead of dragging yourself along this earth like the bottom-feeding, scum-sucking rapist you are.”
The room was deathly quiet after my tirade, save for my jagged, gasping breaths. That was when I realized my voice had risen with each word until I was screaming at him, and the whole restaurant chock full of hungry patrons had turned to stare at me. Self-consciousness squirmed through me, but it was minor compared to the rage still seething inside. If I’d spent years standing there screaming at him, it still wouldn’t put a dent in the fury I’d been carrying around, and that shook me. I didn’t want to lug this rage around the rest of my life. It belonged to Marvel, and anything even remotely touching him was a poison that would devour my soul.
I didn’t want that.
I just didn’t know how to make it be any other way.
At last, the silence was broken by Marvel himself, who shot a furtive look around the room before narrowing his eyes on me. “That’s bullshit, Shiloh,” he announced in a voice so clear the cooks in the kitchen probably heard him. “You wanted to spread your legs for me right from the jump, so crying rape now is pretty goddamn hilarious. In fact, you know what? You should be thankful I gave you what you’d been begging for. You were such an annoying little nothing back then. I had to grit my teeth just so I could get through the task of popping your cherry like you know you wanted me to.”
Humiliation drenched me, feeding the fires of my fury to the point where even basic words evaporated from my brain, and just the need to throttle him was the only thing left. I dropped my order pad to the floor so I could throttle him with my bare hands, but at that moment a long arm snaked between us, pushing me back. Then that same arm went for Marvel, yanking him out of the booth.
What…?
In an instant, Radar tried to launch out of his seat as Marvel was dragged out of the diner. But another man appeared behind Radar, wearing a Gravediggers cut over a heavy jeans jacket and a Gravediggers bandana over his bald head.
“You and I are going to sit this one out like the good boys we are, Radar,” the man said pleasantly, his sunglasses reflecting Radar’s outrage before he glanced up at me. “You’re okay with that, right, Miss?”
“Oh my God,” I whispered, at last snapping out of my rage-induced fugue enough to realize what just went down. Romeo had arrived in time to save me from trying to strangle Marvel to death in front of a crowd of witnesses, and now he was doing heaven only knew what to Marvel. I didn’t give a damn about that bastard; whatever bad fortune fell on him now was just Lady Karma doing her thing.
But I didn’t want Romeo to get in trouble. Not for me. No way.
I started to race for the door, only to hear my name called. Dubya marched toward the reception area, hands clenched, his lips white. It was a lucky thing his eyes couldn’t actually shoot lasers, but it sure looked like he was trying to manifest that power into being.
“Buzzby’s doesn’t need this kind of unexpected melodrama played out in front of its cherished patrons,” he announced, and I couldn’t help but scoff over that whole unexpected bit. “Your behavior is completely inappropriate for this family-oriented establishment. I need you to clear out your locker and leave the premises immediately.”
“No problem.” But I didn’t head for the employees’ locker room. Instead I ran out the door and into the night, desperately searching for Romeo.