Chapter 1
PRESENT DAY, AGE SEVENTEEN
“Order up,” Sal called.
I pushed off the counter and instantly regretted the swift movement. The bruised muscles on my side and back radiated with pain, and I sucked in a sharp breath.
Betsy looked up from where she was rolling silverware, her eyes narrowing. “Everything okay?”
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep my expression neutral and nodded. “Tweaked my back when I picked up my backpack earlier today.”
She didn’t say anything at first, simply staring at me. But her eyes told me that she knew I was lying. “You need to take the day off?”
“No.” The single word came too quickly, but it couldn’t be helped. That panic settled into my bones. I needed every shift I could get if I had a prayer of freedom once I hit eighteen.
I squeezed my eyes closed for a moment, picturing that freedom. The images I conjured up got me through my darkest times. Those, and my memories of Colt. Even just speaking his name in my mind made pain flare to life in my chest.
His absence was just as raw now as it had been eight years ago. No, it was worse. As if time had intensified that burn of his loss.
I swallowed it all down and opened my eyes to reality. The diner that smelled of greasy food. The sweat that had gathered on the back of my neck from barely stopping for the past few hours. The pain that swirled through my torso.
I forced my feet to move toward the server window. Sal met my gaze through the opening. “On the left, girl.”
He’d called me “girl” since my first day here, over three years ago. As though if he didn’t use my name, he wouldn’t have to put the energy into caring about me.
“Thanks, Sal.” I always used his name. As if I were fighting back with each single syllable.
He grunted, shoving the plates closer to me.
I took the burger and the patty melt, the weight making those muscles along my back protest, and I started toward table three.
Two girls from my class chattered back and forth as they waited for their food. As I walked toward them, I caught snippets of the conversation. They were dissecting the actions of a boy. What his texts really meant and the tone of his “hey” at school that day.
The easy conversation made my chest feel hollow. As if there were an emptiness in me that would never fill. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like if wondering whether a boy liked me was my greatest worry.
I slid the two plates onto the table, keeping my eyes downcast. “Cheeseburger and patty melt. Can I get you anything else?”
One girl kept her focus on her phone with a muttered, “Thanks.”
The other glanced up, but it was as if she looked through me, not truly seeing.
I was used to it. That was what happened when you were invisible. But that was by design. If no one saw me, they wouldn’t ask questions.
“Can I get another diet?”
I nodded, grabbing her glass and turning back toward the counter and kitchen. But as I did, a glimpse of someone walking by stilled my steps. My heart gave a heavy thud against my ribs, and I blinked rapidly.
It was that telltale blend of brown, blond, and red in the guy’s hair, so much like Colt’s. Pressure built behind my eyes. I missed him so badly it was as if I were conjuring him up everywhere I looked.
I made myself keep moving, to turn away from the window. I moved behind the counter and filled the girl’s glass with Diet Coke. I thought her name was Corinne, but I wasn’t sure. I tried not to know details about my classmates. Knowing them made it that much harder that I was so set apart.
“Got someone at table five,” Betsy said as she refilled ketchup bottles.
“Thanks.” I rounded the counter and dropped the soda off at the table of girls. They didn’t even look up this time, my invisibility in full effect.
I kept moving past table four with the happy family, checking to make sure they still had plenty of drink left in their glasses, and came to a stop in front of table five.
I slid my order pad out of my back pocket and focused on the lined sheet.
It was easier if I didn’t keep eye contact.
“Welcome to Down Home. What can I get you today?”
“What’s good here?”
The male voice froze me to the spot, sending a faint shiver over my skin with its rasp. It forced my eyes up toward the sound. As if my gaze had no choice in the matter.
It was a mistake, looking up.
The owner of the voice was unlike anyone I’d ever seen before.
While he was young, probably about my age, he was massive.
Even sitting down, I knew he’d tower over me.
The T-shirt he wore skated over defined muscles.
Muscles that told me he wasn’t someone you wanted to tangle with.
Dark hair was buzzed close to his head, and a scar bisected his right eyebrow.
But it was his eyes that held me captive.
Those eyes were otherworldly in their beauty. A golden amber so hypnotizing it stole your breath. But there was a coldness there that made me shiver, so opposed to the golden warmth of their color.
I felt the sudden urge to run. As if he were the predator and I were the prey.
I swallowed hard. “I-I like the turkey melt.”
The guy handed his menu to me. “I’ll take one of those. French fries. Coke.”
I took hold of the menu, but he didn’t let go. I tried not to tremble. “Did you need something else?”
He released the menu. “Nope.”
The moment I was free, I all but ran back to the kitchen.
Over time, I’d learned to trust my gut when it came to people. I had good instincts that had been crafted over years of pain. And my instincts were telling me now that the guy sitting in that booth, no matter how beautiful, could snap my neck with a flick of his wrist.