Chapter 11 #2
"You got experience waiting tables?" she asked.
"Not exactly," I admitted. "But I'm a hard worker, and I learn fast."
"Where you from?"
"Washington State."
"That's a long way to come looking for work. You running from something?"
The direct question caught me off guard. I could lie, make up some story about seeking adventure or wanting to see the ocean. But something about Rita's straightforward manner made me want to tell at least part of the truth.
"Someone," I said quietly. "I'm running from someone."
Rita's expression softened slightly. "Boyfriend?"
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
"He hurt you?"
The question opened up a well of pain so deep I almost couldn't breathe. Marshall had hurt me in ways that went beyond physical violence, had shattered my heart and my sense of self with surgical precision.
"Yes," I whispered.
Rita was quiet for a moment, then nodded decisively. "Well, you won't be the first girl to wash up on my shore looking for a fresh start. Can you be here at six tomorrow morning?"
Relief flooded through me so suddenly that my knees went weak. "Yes. Thank you. Thank you so much."
"Don't thank me. The work's hard and the pay's not much. But it's honest work, and I don't tolerate any nonsense from customers who think they can treat my girls poorly."
"I understand."
"You got a place to stay?"
That was the question I'd been dreading. "Not yet. I was hoping to find something cheap, maybe a room somewhere..."
Rita studied me for another moment, then sighed. "There's a small apartment upstairs. Previous tenant moved out last week, and I haven't found anyone new yet. It's not much—just a studio with a kitchenette and a bathroom—but it's clean and safe."
"I can pay," I said quickly, though I wasn't sure how much rent would cost or if my remaining money would cover it.
"We'll work something out," Rita said. "You can work for part of the rent and pay the rest when you get on your feet."
The kindness in her offer almost undid me. Here was a stranger offering me exactly what I needed most—work, shelter, and a chance to start over.
"Why?" I asked. "Why would you help me?"
Rita's smile was sad and knowing. "Because thirty-five years ago, I was eighteen and pregnant and running from a man who thought he owned me. Someone helped me then, and I've been paying it forward ever since."
Pregnant. She could tell I was pregnant.
"How did you—"
"Hon, I've been watching women come and go in this town for decades. I know the signs." Rita's voice was gentle. "You're what, maybe three or four months along?"
I nodded, my hand instinctively moving to protect my stomach. Wolf pregnancies went much faster than human pregnancies, especially with an Alpha pup.
"The father know?"
"He knows," I said bitterly. "He doesn't want us."
"His loss," Rita said firmly. "That baby's lucky to have a mama brave enough to start over for them."
She's right, Sapphire said with fierce pride. We are brave. We are strong. We will survive this.
Rita led me upstairs to show me the apartment, and while it was small and sparsely furnished, it was clean and bright, with windows that looked out over the harbor.
There was a bed, a small table with two chairs, a kitchenette with a mini-fridge and a hot plate, and a bathroom with a shower that had decent water pressure.
"It's perfect," I said, and meant it. After three days on buses and sleeping in stations, it looked like a palace.
"Rent's four hundred a month, but like I said, we'll work something out with your wages until you get established," Rita said. "You start at six tomorrow morning. Wear comfortable shoes and be ready to work."
After she left, I sat on the bed and looked around my new home. It wasn't much, but it was mine. For the first time since Marshall had rejected me, I felt like I could breathe properly.
We did it, Sapphire said with quiet satisfaction. We found safety.
"We found a chance," I corrected. "Now we have to prove we can take care of ourselves."
That night, I lay in my bed listening to the sound of waves against the harbor walls and seagulls calling to each other in the darkness. The ocean was alien and wild, nothing like the quiet forests of home, but there was something peaceful about its constant rhythm.
Somewhere far away, in a pack territory I would never see again, Marshall was probably sleeping peacefully in his bed, convinced he'd made the right choice. He'd probably already forgotten about the pregnant girl he'd thrown away, moved on to more important matters of pack leadership.
I wondered who was keeping his bed warm tonight.
Scarlett, most likely. Her vicious words from months ago echoed in my mind, a prophecy fulfilled.
She had told me he was just waiting, biding his time until he could discard me without scandal.
Had it all been a lie? Was my rejection not a moment of irrational anger, but a cold, calculated plan he’d had all along?
Had he already taken Scarlett as his chosen mate?
Was she sleeping in his bed right now, the rightful Luna in the place I was only ever borrowing?
The thought was a fresh wave of agony, worse than the rejection itself.
It wasn't just that he hadn't wanted me; it was the possibility that he had never intended to keep me at all.
Fine. If I was never truly his, then he had no claim on my future. And he had absolutely no claim on our son. My son.
Here in Maine, I was building something new. Something that belonged to me and my child, something that no one could take away.
Tomorrow we start over, Sapphire said as sleep finally began to claim me.
"Tomorrow we prove we don't need him," I whispered back.
The bus ticket had been right, in a way. It was the end of everything I'd been before.
But it was also the beginning of everything I was going to become.