Chapter 6 #3
I realize how pathetic it sounds before I finish my sentence, so my words die in my throat. Victor turns his attention back to Joe.
“Consider the date canceled,” Victor barks. “As a matter of fact, I think you need to find somewhere else to work. Somewhere you don’t make her, or any other young lady, so fucking uncomfortable.”
He cares about my comfort? Why? I don’t know him. He doesn’t know me. He’s the hottest guy I’ve ever seen, and my body certainly notices, but I’m nothing special. I’ve been a damsel in distress long enough to know there aren’t any white knights left in this world.
“Look, man, I’ll leave her alone. I need this job, though!” Joe argues, trying to get his footing against the wall so he can keep speaking with Victor’s hand around his throat. “I’m on parole!”
“Parole?” Victor asks. “What did you serve time for?”
Joe’s face pales and he swallows hard, his gulp stifled by Victor’s grip. Truthfully, I don’t know why Joe was in prison. I figured it wasn’t the kind of thing you were supposed to ask an ex-con. Frank hired him, so I assume it’s nothing horrible.
“You going to tell me before you pass out?” Victor snaps, leaning closer to Joe.
“Okay! Look, she said yes at first!” Joe gasps.
My heart drops into my stomach. Something murderous flashes in Victor’s eyes.
He squeezes so tight I think Joe’s eyes are going to pop out of his skull before his grip loosens.
But Victor doesn’t let go of the old man.
He pulls him away from the wall, then slams him against it hard enough for his head to bounce against the brick, leaving a smear of blood.
“Forget finding another job. If I ever see your fucking disgusting face again, there won’t be enough of you left to identify,” Victor snarls, slamming Joe into the wall again before slinging him toward the door. “Go before I change my mind, you miserable son of a bitch.”
Joe looks horrified. He grabs his throat, gasps a few times, then coughs as he runs into the diner. I’ve never seen a man his age move so fast.
But as soon as he’s gone, I’m alone in the alley with Victor. I tremble and glance at the door, realizing I’ve got a massive, hulking man blocking my escape now. I’d like to believe he’s better than Joe, but when Victor’s dark gaze falls on me again, I’m not so sure.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“You shouldn’t let people treat you like that,” he is so angry I can tell he’s trying not to shout. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Apparently, he’s mad at me too. I look down at the ground, feeling foolish.
I let Joe corner me. I didn’t stand up for myself.
I didn’t even try to knee him in the balls, like my grandmother used to say I should do if a guy wouldn’t take no for an answer.
I just… caved… to a rapist who should have never been working at this diner to begin with.
“I don’t know,” I answer quietly, unable to look him in the eyes. “Things have just been really difficult lately.”
“It doesn’t matter how bad things get, you should still have some self-respect,” he snaps. I glance up, just enough to see he’s removing his wallet from his pocket. He removes a few bills and tosses them on the ground at my feet. “That should cover the check.”
It’s more than enough to cover two burgers and fries. Probably enough to cover half my tips for the day. Normally, I’d be screaming for joy if I got a tip like that, but I don’t feel like I earned it. He just pities me. Somehow, that feels worse than him not paying at all.
Victor stomps to the end of the alley, leaving me confused, overwhelmed, and still aching with arousal. A second later, the back door opens, and Frank sticks his head out.
“What the hell did you say to Joe? He just quit!” Frank yells. “And where did that guy from table ten go? He didn’t even pay his check.”
“He…” I look down at the money, then up at Frank. Anger flickers beneath everything else, and I find myself growing a spine. Or at least something that resembles one. “Did you know why Joe was in prison?”
“Yeah, it was a misunderstanding with some girl,” Frank says dismissively. “Is that why he ran off? You were asking him too many personal questions? That isn’t any of your business.”
I walk up to Frank, my eyes narrowing. It’s like some of Victor’s intensity has rubbed off on me. Or maybe I’m just seeing things a little differently now.
“When you’re trying to set me up with a rapist, I think it is,” I say, pushing past him. “I have customers waiting. Since Joe quit, I guess that means you’re back in the kitchen again?”
“After I call the cops,” Frank says. “I hate people who dine and dash.”
“He didn’t,” I retort bitterly. “The money is on the ground in the alley. More than enough. Go get it yourself.”
Frank looks down at the money like he’s trying to decide if it’s worth walking outside. Once he realizes how much there is, he quickly steps into the alley to grab it. He pockets my tip when he walks back inside, but I don’t even care.
I’m angry. I’m frustrated. And I’m so aroused my panties are drenched.
But at least I don’t have to worry about Joe anymore.