Chapter 7
Mina
No.
Shit. No. No. No!
“What are you doing here?” I whisper as he closes the distance between us.
“I came to apologize. I honestly don’t know what I said or did, but it’s been bugging me all night.” He looks at me with that pain in his eyes again. As if looking at me is causing his soul to burn.
“You didn’t do anything. So, there’s nothing to apologize for.
Have a good night, Myles.” I turn to walk away, but he reaches out and gently grabs my wrist. Even with his gentleness, it still causes pain.
The pain is pure agony and feels like fire seeping up my arm. He lets go immediately after I wince.
“What happened?” he asks, reaching for my arm.
“Nothing. I messed up during my routine. I’ll be fine. I just need to get out of here. You should, too.”
“Okay.” He agrees too easily. Something seems up. “Hungry?”
“Uh…” I glance back toward the door. I don’t know if Declan is watching the cameras out here, but I hope to God he isn’t.
“Please…I promise no funny business. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
“Okay. Where would you want to go?” I ask. I take his hand and start to pull him.
“You pick. I haven’t been here in a long time, so I don’t know what’s good anymore,” he chuckles as we slide into my truck.
The motor on my old truck barely hums to life. Seven more weeks till I can get a new one. I’ve had this baby for five years, but she’s older than me.
“We can go to Ray’s.”
“Ray’s is still around? Does big Ray still run it?” he looks excited about a dinky diner on the outskirts of town.
“Yeah…He isn’t there as much anymore. When did you say you lived here?”
“A long time ago.”
His phone dings, and he pulls it out of his pocket. I glance out of the corner of my eye and see him glaring at the screen before shaking his head and pocketing it again.
“Everything good?” I ask.
“Mhm."
“So, what brings you back to town?” I ask. I want to keep him talking until we get there.
“Real estate.”
“Buying or selling?”
“Selling.”
“So is Myles your real name?” I ask as I nudge him with my elbow.
“Yep. But friends call me My or Milo.”
That name causes a strange feeling to hit my stomach. I must have reacted because I suddenly feel his warm palm on my leg. The heat permeates the thin fabric of my leggings.
“You good?” he asks as he studies me.
“Mhm. So, any family?” I ask, trying to keep the conversation flowing. He pulls away from my question, and I already miss the feeling of his touch.
“Not anymore.” His voice is low and filled with pain…One I know too well.
“Wife?”
“Nah.”
“Girlfriend?”
“Nope.”
This man needs to give me something more so I can figure him out.
“What about you? Got a family waiting for you at home?” he asks. My fingers tighten around my leather steering wheel cover. It crackles and squeaks.
“No.”
We fall into a silence. He’s looking out the window as we drive through the sleeping town. It's nearly sunrise.
“It’s lonely…” he says quietly. His gaze still drifts over the open fields along the road.
“What is?”
“You don’t have family at all?”
“No. Not anymore.” My voice is sharp. I don’t want to talk about it.
“Sorry. I get it, though.” I can see him studying me out of the corner of my eye. He’s trying to figure me out.
“It’s fine…I just don’t like to talk about my past.”
He sighs as he closes his eyes and leans his head against the headrest.
“We’re here,” I say as we pull into the old, worn-out parking lot. The lines are barely visible, even in the daylight. The pavement is cracked, chipping away from age. Some of the potholes could eat my whole tire if I’m not careful.
“Wow…I didn’t think it could get shittier looking, but it did,” Myles laughs as we step out of my truck. He kicks a chunk of pavement, and it skips across the parking lot before hitting the dirt.
He holds the door open for me. The sensor chimes as we step inside. The regular overnight waiter, Mark, is here.
“Hey, Mi…” he starts, but I slide my finger across my throat. He stops and glances back at Myles. “Me…Friends…Uhh…Welcome to Ray’s. Grab a seat, and I’ll be right over. Coffee?”
“Please and orange juice,” Myles says.
“You got it, friend. Miss? Anything for you?” he asks as if he hasn’t seen me at least 3 times a week for the last few years.
“Just coffee for me. Thanks.” I slide into my usual booth, but Myles doesn’t join me.
“I’m going to wash up,” he says as he walks away.
Once he is down the back hall to the bathroom, Mark brings the coffee.
“Sorry. I just assumed he wasn’t a client,” he says awkwardly as he pours my coffee.
“He isn’t…I honestly don’t know what he is.”
“He’s old enough to be your dad, that’s what he is.”
“Shut up! You go for older women all the time, slut,” I tease. I glance behind me at the hall to make sure Myles isn’t coming back yet.
“Hey, at least you could get away with calling him Daddy.”
“Eww. Stop!” I throw a creamer cup at him, and we laugh.
Mark is the only other person besides Jaz that I’ve become friends with outside the club since coming back.
He’s a year younger than I am. Not much taller than me either, with sandy blonde hair that you can tell he hardly does anything with except run his fingers through it.
He’s cute, but I only see him as a brother.
He moved here eight years ago with his family, and he decided to stay.
“Do you know what you want? Besides ancient dick?” he winks as he sets down the pot and sits down in the booth next to me.
“Shut up! He isn’t even that old.”
“Mina, he’s like twenty years older than you!”
“So? I didn’t say I was going to marry him, but you gotta admit…He is hot.” I lick my lips, remembering the way he tasted when he kissed me.
“Not my type. I’ll be back when your new Daddy gets back.”
“I’m already back,” a low voice growls from behind us. The noise runs down my spine and straight to my clit.
Mark shoots up and out of the booth. His face is drained of all color, and he looks terrified.
“Sorry…I’ll give you a moment.”
“No need. Sunshine, do you know what you want?” he asks as he brushes past Mark and sits in the booth across from me.
Mark looks at me, confused. I quickly grab my menu, as if I’m not just going to get the same thing I always get.
“The biscuits and gravy, please. With a side of scrambled eggs.”
“Cheese?” he smirks.
“Yes, please.”
Mark turns to Myles, but Myles hasn’t taken his eyes off me.
“I’ll have the same.” He picks up the menus and hands them to Mark, silently dismissing him without another word.
He grabs my mug and tops off my coffee. The bitter scent of burnt coffee grounds drifts between us. He swirls the pot, and you can see grounds along the bottom.
“I’ll be right back.” He stands and walks to the counter with the pot. He leans on the counter while glaring at the back of Mark's head. He’s too busy texting, so he doesn’t even realize Myles is there until he clears his throat.
Mark jumps, and his cell phone drops to the floor. It slides under the counter.
“Shit,” he hisses. “Sorry, Sir. What can I do for you?”
“Fresh pot of coffee, please. This time, no coffee grounds in it.”
He sets the pot down on the counter and walks back to our booth. He grabs two clean coffee mugs off another table on his way back. I glance back at Mark, but he’s gone.
“Sorry about that. So, how long have you worked at Badlands?”
“Almost five years. Declan hired me when I was eighteen. I had just moved to town and needed something that paid good and had a set schedule so I could still take classes.”
“What are you studying?” he asks.
“I’m about to get…”
“Here you are, Sir. Miss. The food will be out shortly.” Mark interrupts us and sets down the pot. He nods at us, picks up the old mugs, and takes them with him.
“Sorry. You were saying?” he says before taking a sip of his orange juice.
“I’ll be graduating in seven weeks. My degree is in psychology, majoring in behavioral psychology.”
“Wow! That’s impressive for someone so young.”
“Thanks. I worked my ass off to get my PHD by the time I turned twenty-three.”
He nearly chokes on his orange juice.
“PHD?”
“Yep. I got into online college early in a special program. I started when I was sixteen.”
“Damn. Smart as hell and one of the most gorgeous women I’ve ever laid eyes on!” His cheeks blush as if his inner thoughts escaped.
“Thanks.”
He sets the juice down, and we reach for the pot at the same time. His fingers wrap around mine as I grab the handle.
“Here, let me.” He takes the pot from me and pours it exactly how full I like it.
We sit in a comfortable silence for a moment while I stir the cream into my coffee.
“So, does Declan treat you well?” he asks as he slides the container of sugars to me.
“Mostly, yeah.”
“Mostly?” he growls. Instinctively, I grab onto my wrist where the bruises are darkening.
“Yeah. He has a lot to worry about with the club and the women.”
I pull the hoodie sleeves further down my arm to hide my wrist, but it’s too late.
He already saw the purple and blue bruises.
I can see the muscles in his neck tighten, and his jaw clicks from clenching his teeth.
He reaches for my arm before I can pull it away.
His hold on me is gentle. I could easily pull away if I want to… But I don’t.
“Did he do this?” His voice is hushed but is seething with rage. There aren’t any other customers right now.
I don’t say a word, just look away. My reflection stares back at me in the dingy glass. It’s raining now. The parking lot is dimly lit, but beyond the pavement, it’s dark. The sun has barely started to peek over the horizon.
I can feel his thumb brushing over the bruise. What’s there to even say? Yeah, Declan did this. He held me down and fucked me…Don’t worry though…He usually only gets like this when he drinks. Oh, and now that you’re here, because for some reason he wants to kill you.
No…I can’t say any of that.
“Lu…Did he do this?” he asks again. His voice is a bit more controlled as he pulls my sleeve back down.
I can feel the tears burning. Is it sad that I’m just used to it, so it doesn’t even fucking phase me anymore? Yeah…that’s fucking sad. Sad and pathetic. I could just crack a joke about needing a good therapist…
“Here you go!” Mark breaks the tension by setting down our food. The smell of Ray’s homemade sausage gravy makes my mouth water and my stomach growl.
“Thanks,” I say as I grab my fork to dig in.
“No problemo. Let me know if you need anything else, Mina.” He says as he walks back toward the counter. Fuck!
He stops and spins back toward us when he realizes he just fucked up. He said my real name…Well, part of it. It’s what I go by with friends.
“Shit,” he huffs under his breath as he quickly walks away.
“So…You’re real name’s Mina?”
It’s fine. He’s not a regular client. I probably won’t even see him after tonight, so what’s the issue with him knowing my name?
“Yeah.”
“It’s beautiful,” he says as he takes a bite.
The biscuits are freshly made. The warm scent of butter and baked dough is delicious. The gravy is made with bacon and sausage. It’s thick with a hint of maple syrup. It’s so good. It’s one of the only things I get here. I’m going to miss it when I leave.
“Fuck. Still just as good as it was twenty years ago,” Myles says as he takes another bite.
Twenty years ago…
“So, is Mina short for something?” he asks as he stabs the scrambled eggs. The cheese stretches, then finally breaks.
Fuck it.
“It’s short for Lumina.”
Myles stops. The fork is at his lips. His mouth is open, and his eyes are wide as he stares at me. The fork drops to the table, making me jump.
“Fuck. I…” Myles stands quickly. His knee hits the table and rocks it. The coffee sloshes and spills a bit, but his orange juice topples over, spilling everywhere.
“Shit.” I quickly grab napkins and try to clean up the spill. It’s dripping off the table, onto the booth and the floor.
“Sorry. Here.” He tosses a fifty dollar bill on the table. “I gotta go!”
He takes off toward the door before I can even get out of the booth.
“Myles, wait!”
“No. I’m sorry. I just remembered I have to…I have to go.”
“At least let me take you back to your car.”
“No!” he snaps.
Mark comes running from the back, confused and looking like he is ready to fight. As if he could hold his own against a guy like Myles. He looks like he could snap his neck with one hand.
“Sorry, Lu…Mina…Fuck!”
He leaves. The wind catches the door and slams it shut.
“What the fuck was that about?” Mark asks me as he brings over a mop and paper towels.
“I don’t know…” I take the roll of paper towels and begin to soak up the coffee and orange juice.
“Did he try something, and you shot him down?” Mark laughs as he pulls the booth out to mop underneath.
“No…I just told him my name.”