Chapter 4
Abby drove up to the dingy two-story apartment complex and quickly scanned the parking lot, not seeing Monte’s car.
Good. She parked beneath the carport in front of her place and stepped out, quickly gathering her groceries.
The complex was old and weathered, but the owners kept the grounds manicured and the lights on, so she was grateful to have a roof over her head.
She struggled with the four bags across the sidewalk to her dented blue door.
When she’d been looking, the only vacancy had been on the street level, but she was on the list to move higher if a place opened up.
She twisted the knob. Yep. Unlocked. Her stomach cramping, she walked inside and locked the door behind herself.
She had definitely locked it that morning. How had Monte gotten in?
The entryway was made up of six cracked gray tiles that led to the living room, which held a battered brown sofa on shag gray carpet. She’d tried to brighten the room with damask pillows from the dollar store, but the place still smelled like cigarette smoke.
Straightening, she walked past the metal coffee table to the kitchen alcove, where she was able to touch all three walls without moving from the middle dingy tile. It was small, but she kept it very clean. Usually.
Several broken dishes littered the small sink. Damn it. She didn’t have many. Why had he felt the need to break the dishes she’d purchased just last week with her most recent paycheck? Now she needed new dishes. How much did a locksmith cost, anyway? It was probably too expensive to buy new locks.
Tears welled in her eyes and she quickly put away the groceries.
Calling the police would be a waste of time.
Monte would probably convince them she’d done it herself.
Jerk. She’d been planning on leaving town at the end of the month, and Monte had fixed that by getting her put on probation.
Now she was stuck for six months, and who knew what damage he could do in that time?
She moved to the sofa and gingerly sat, pain rippling up her side from the punch to the ribs she’d taken.
What could she do? If she left town, she’d be breaking the law, and her probation would be revoked.
If she kept her head down and tried to survive the next six months of probation, Monte would certainly make another move.
She could give in and move back with him, live out the next six months and then leave in the dark of night, but he’d know of a way to stop her.
There wasn’t a good way out. No safe way with a guaranteed outcome of her finding freedom the heck away from this town.
It’d be nice to have a friend to call, but all of her friends had sided with Monte in the divorce. They’d been his friends first, anyway. Why had she given up her entire life in Miami to live in this podunk town with him? Just because he’d saved her after a car crash?
Two years of hell made up for that. It had to.
Time to shake it off. She stood and turned for the utilitarian bedroom and changed into a clean pair of jeans and a pink T-shirt. Grabbing her purse, she ran back outside and drove to the other side of town, rushing inside the wooden log building just in time for her shift.
The establishment was a decade-old neighborhood grill with round tables, large booths, and the smell of good food wafting around.
The manager was a frazzled guy named Glen who ran the place for his father-in-law, who had owned the quaint bar for eons.
He tossed her an apron as he ran toward the cash register at the far end.
“You already have two tables waiting,” he said, not unkindly, his thinning brown hair slicked back and revealing parts of his scalp.
“Thanks.” She caught it and wrapped the material around her waist while walking toward her section.
It was her second month on the job, and she had finally gotten the routine down.
The first table held a couple of high school girls who’d already spread out books and papers to study.
They predictably ordered burgers and milkshakes.
The next table held a family of four with the cutest toddler she’d ever seen.
A little brown-eyed boy with a button nose.
They ordered quickly, and she took both orders back to the kitchen, where Buck the cook was already sizzling delicious smelling stir fry on one of the burners.
Buck was an ex-marine about eighty years old who wielded a spatula like most men would a knife.
He did his job, rarely smiled, but didn’t yell, either.
Her stomach growled. When had she last eaten? Smiling, she handed over the orders and hustled back out of the kitchen to see a third table occupied in her section.
A slow roll of heat coiled through her abdomen, and she stumbled.
What was wrong with her? Plastering a polite smile on, she moved though the booths and tables toward them.
“I thought you two were going for pizza,” she said to Noah Siosal.
Why had she told them where she worked? Had she subconsciously wanted to see them again?
Ivar glanced up from his large menu. “You don’t have pizza?”
“You can have a burger,” Noah answered him, his deep gaze remaining on Abby. He overwhelmed his side of the booth where usually three people could sit. What was it about him? Charisma? It all but rolled from him with a hint of sexy danger.
She tore her gaze from him to face the blond. “We have personalized pizzas on the back of the menu. You can get one just for you or get a larger one to take some home.”
Ivar turned the page over and frowned. “Worst part of hell dimensions wasn’t the fire or monsters or even the loneliness,” he muttered, almost to himself, flipping the menu back around. “Was the lack of good food. Man, I missed cheese.”
Abby swallowed. Was he crazy? Truly insane? “Do you hear voices?” The question popped out before she could stop herself.
He looked up, pinning her with that electric blue gaze. “Aye. I hear the screams of the people I haven’t saved.” His eyebrows rose. “Do you hear voices?”
Gulping in air, she slowly shook her head. “No,” she whispered. This was so weird.
Noah gathered the menu and handed them to Abby. “We’ll order a large meat lover’s pizza, two salads with ranch dressing, and an apple pie for dessert. A whole one.”
Ivar made a noise that sounded like a grateful puppy. An oversized one.
Abby took the menus. “Sure.” She turned away, her heart thumping and her head reeling. What was going on? She was halfway to the kitchen when somebody sat at her one remaining table. Her stomach sank. What was Monte doing there?
Noah watched the fragile human’s body language go from wary to defeated in an instant, and he didn’t like it one bit.
She disappeared into the kitchen with their order, and while she was gone, two more men joined her ex-husband at the table farther down the way.
One wore a sheriff’s uniform. Interesting.
“What?” Ivar stopped staring at the sports tickets glued to the table beneath a glass top and turned to look over his shoulder. “Huh.”
“Yeah.” Noah made a mental note to figure out the players in this town. “Not sure I like the sheriff with the ex-husband.” The sheriff looked to be in his mid-thirties with buzz cut hair, sharp green eyes, and the beginning of a beer belly over his brown pants.
“You know, she never did say she hit him with a pitcher,” Ivar said, turning back around.
Yeah. Noah had noticed that fact already. Of course, she also hadn’t denied the charges. “I also don’t like that the ex was at the grocery store and is now here, where she’s working.”
“So are we,” Ivar said.
Well, that was true. “She’s intriguing,” Noah admitted.
“Agreed,” Ivar said. “But she’s not the type you can date while you’re tossing bodies in ravines and looking for vengeance for your brother.” Just fact existed in the Viking’s unconcerned tone. “Just saying.”
Noah focused back on him. “Why are you so calm?” If the guy wanted to go back and save his friend, he should be chomping at the bit.
Ivar shrugged. “The researchers are looking into how to get my job done, and I also have feelers out for human physicists who might help me. As soon as I find the right one, I’m back on mission.
Right now, I’m just doing Benny a favor by staying out of the way temporarily. I owe him, just like you.”
“You seem okay,” Noah murmured. But the night before, when Noah paced the floors like usual, he could hear Ivar pacing downstairs. Apparently neither of them enjoyed the peace of sleep.
“I’m faking it,” Ivar returned. “Trying to act normal for now. Every inch of me wants to go rip the head off of that Monte guy just because he made Abby sad, who I see true vulnerability in. But that would be bad.” He paused. “Right?”
Noah wasn’t entirely sure. “I may take him out if necessary. You just hold tight until it’s time to go back to work.”
“I knew you liked her,” Ivar returned.
“Not like that,” Noah said, his body heating with the mere thought of the female.
“Right,” Ivar said, flashing another rare smile. “Keep telling yourself that.”
He would, because the last thing he had time for was a human female. Even one with pretty greenish brown eyes and an ass made for a man’s hands. Curvy and perfect.
She emerged from the kitchen and walked toward the other table, her eyes blazing and her shoulders back. Good for her. Reaching the table, she pulled out a notepad.
Noah tilted his head to hear better. While a human couldn’t hear the conversation at this distance, he’d have no problem with his enhanced hearing.
“What can I get you gentlemen?” Abby asked, her voice ultra-polite.
“You in jail,” the sheriff said, flashing his teeth.
Noah stiffened and started to rise.
Ivar shook his head. “Let it go, buddy. We don’t want to mess with the human law here unless it’s necessary.”
Shit. That was beyond true. Even so, if the guy said anything else, Noah was knocking out his teeth. Maybe just the front ones. No. All of them.
The ex then spoke. “We’ll just have the Hawaiian pizza, sweetheart. And I wanted to check on you. How was anger management?” His voice was low and concerned. Fake as shit, actually. Was he playing a part for his buddies?
The third man, also in his thirties, had thick black hair, intelligent eyes, and a perfectly groomed beard. “I hope you take advantage of the lighter sentence, Abigail. I put my neck on the line.”
“Thanks for that, judge,” Abby said, her teeth audibly grinding.
The sheriff sighed. “Remember that staying employed is part of your probation. If you lose this job, you go to jail.”
She paled. Even from the distance, Noah could see a fine blue vein show along her jawline. “I have a job.”
The judge smiled. “My father is very good friends with the owner.”
“I see. Thanks for letting me know.” She turned on her heel and headed back for the kitchen.
Ivar’s left eyebrow rose, moving his damaged skin. “Her ex, the sheriff, and the judge out for dinner together? Is it just me, or is this a bunch of bullshit?”
Noah nodded, his chest expanding. “It also sounds like she’s about to get fired.” He’d help any woman who needed assistance, but there was something about this one that called to him on a level he so did not want to explore. Not right now.
She strode out of the kitchen with the salads and the pizza on a tray and slid the food onto the table. “Plates and utensils are at the far end.” Her eyes were dull and her voice soft as she began to turn away.
Noah shocked himself by grasping her wrist. “If you need help, I can take care of your problems.” Oh, man. What the hell was he doing?
She paused, and her voice trembled just enough to be noticeable. “You’re sweet, but you can’t help me.”
Oh yeah? That’s what she thought. He released her and cranked his neck to see Monte the Ex staring right at him.
He stared back until the human swallowed tightly. Yeah. Things were about to get interesting.