Break Away (The Moore Brothers Book 4)

by Brooks, Abby

  Fuck it, forget it. She ducked into the break room and leaned against the wall, taking several deep breaths to clear her mind.

  “For Chrissake, Lilah. What’re you doing?” Lilah jumped and spun to find Lou, the Lou of Lou’s Diner, a portly woman with a permanently red face. “You’ve got two tables waiting on their checks and a two-top just went down in your section.”

  Lilah pushed off the wall and tried to find a way through the door that Lou had thoroughly blocked. “I’m sorry. Just taking a little break.”

  “You keep at it, and you’ll get more than just a little break.” Lou stepped aside and gestured for Lilah to exit.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Lilah said without thinking, a throwback to being a little girl with an angry mom. She swept from the room, slipping a little in the puddle of spilled soda. Shit. She was the one who was supposed to clean that up. This job was way harder than she had thought it would be. Surely that was the diner’s fault. Working for Lou had to be hard because they were understaffed, or under-organized, or under-something. If she had managed to get a job at one of the higher-end restaurants, it wouldn’t have been this bad.

  Lilah scanned the floor for the two tables waiting for their checks. She found the first one easily, the man sitting with his arms crossed over his chest, his foot bouncing away under the table, his eyes like daggers pointed in her direction made it pretty clear he was more than ready to leave. She found the second one empty. They had left without paying.

  Well, shit. That would be coming out of her paycheck. Lilah was sure of that.

  After dropping off the check and a set of apologies to the man with the dagger eyes, Lilah found the two-top Lou had mentioned. The couple had their menus closed and, thankfully, looked like they were enjoying each other’s company despite having to wait.

  “I’m so sorry,” Lilah said as she approached the table, digging in her apron for her pen. And digging. And digging. Damn it! Where was it?

  “Well hey there, princess,” said a familiar voice. “Why am I not surprised that you’re a shitty waitress?”

  Lilah looked up to find Cole Bennett sitting there, watching her with his oddly perceptive eyes, a shit-eating grin stretching from ear to ear. She stopped digging in her apron for her pen—it wasn’t in there anyway—and sat back on her heel, propping her hand on her hips.

  “I am not a bad waitress.”

  Cole actually laughed. “Look around, sweetheart. This is not a section filled with happy faces and satisfied customers. And I’d bet a free meal that the crash we heard back there a few minutes ago was you.”

  The little brunette sitting next to him giggled, her great big childlike eyes brimming with adoration as she stared all smitten into Cole’s face.

  Well, if he was going to be a dick, she had every right to be a bitch in return. She let her eyes rake over the girl with as much caustic judgment as she could muster, which, even she had to admit, was a lot. “I see you’ve found yet another girl who won’t understand that you don’t do girlfriends.”

  Cole’s date flipped her hair over her shoulder in a show of nonchalance, but the way she tugged at her shirt told Lilah that she had managed to get under her skin. Lilah felt a little bad, but maybe her comment would be enough to warn the girl off.

  “He says he doesn’t do girlfriends, but since I managed to talk him into taking me to my favorite restaurant tonight instead of just taking me home last night makes me think he’s all talk.” The girl grabbed Cole’s arm and leaned into him, practically batting her eyelashes. Cole grimaced and extricated himself from her grasp, his face saying he found her neediness as disgusting as Lilah did.

  Of course, the girl didn’t notice, she just kept smiling up at Cole like he was some kind of rock star. Poor stupid thing. Was she ever in for a rude awakening.

  “What’s her name? That way I can address her properly when we run into each other on the front walk and she tells me to tell you just exactly where to go.” That got the girl’s attention and Lilah almost felt bad, but still hoped that she would take the hint and ask Cole to take her home after dinner.

  “Penny,” Cole said, indicating his date. “I’d like you to meet the bitch from apartment 3B.”

  Penny giggled and Lilah schooled her face into something cool and condescending. She would not show him how furious she was. She took their orders, doing her best to remember what they said because she couldn’t find her pen and of course Penny had to ask for all kinds of special things on her meal. Reciting the order in her head as she strode back to the server’s station to put it in, she did her best not to let Cole get to her. He was so not worth it.

  When their food came up, she pasted a smile to her face and made it to their table without dropping anything. Even managed to get their order mostly right. Was it her imagination, or was Cole staring at her as she reached across the table to put Penny’s order in front of her. A quick glance to her right verified that yes, he was staring at her. Their eyes locked for just a fraction of a second and for some reason, Lilah blushed. She yanked her attention away from him and asked if she could get them anything else, her voice all business, her eyes detached.

  Both Cole and Penny were fine, so she told them she would be back to check on them in a few minutes, knowing full well she would forget, and turned and headed back to the server’s station.

  Halfway there, a hand grabbed her arm. Hard. Someone yanked on her and she stumbled backwards, the tray in her hands clattering to the floor. She came face to face with an angry man, all tattoos, bad breath, and buzz cut.

  “Hey! Dumbass!” Spittle hit Lilah in the face and she cried out, pulling back on her arm. Panic blossomed in her stomach when she couldn’t pull free. “Are you fucking stupid? How many times do I gotta ask for a goddamn refill?”

  Lilah didn’t respond. She was way more distracted with pulling her arm out of his grasp. His fingertips dug into her flesh and it hurt. The diner grew silent and somewhere in the back Christy-Anne was calling for Lou. Lilah didn’t know what to do. The man’s dark eyes were bloodshot and red-rimmed and the stink on his breath had to be born of several days of non-stop drinking.

  “All I want is a fucking refill!” The drunk tightened his grasp on Lilah’s arm and punctuated his words by yanking her even closer to him as he slurred his words at her. Lilah froze. What was she going to do?

  “Hey.” The voice came from behind her. Cold. Controlled. Like steel glinting in the sun. “You let her go, now.” Lilah turned her head and saw Cole striding towards them.

  “Yeah?” sneered the drunk. “Or what?”

  “Or me, asshole.”

  The drunk glared at Cole, but softened the grip on her arm.

  “You willing to risk your pretty face for this dumb bitch?”

  Cole stepped forward, putting more of himself in between Lilah and the drunk. “I’m not the one at risk here, friend.” He waited for that to sink in before continuing. “Do you really want a trip to the drunk tank over a goddamn refill?”

  The man let go of Lilah’s arm and she staggered back, rubbing the tender flesh.

  “Good choice,” said Cole. “Now pay your bill, tip your waitress, and get the hell outta here before I decide you haven’t learned your lesson yet.”

  “I’m not paying for shit.”

  Cole stepped forward, six feet and two inches of him radiating this awesome threatening power that had Lilah breathless. “Pay your bill. Tip your waitress.”

  The drunk flinched and yanked a single bill out of his wallet and dropped it on the table, glaring passed Cole at Lilah.

  “A real tip,” said Cole.

  “I tipped her what she’s worth,” the drunk said.

  “Bullshit. She’s worth more than one goddamn dollar simply because she’s a human being.”

  The drunk looked like he was going to say something, but one look at Cole’s face had him shutting his mouth. He dug through his wallet and pulled out a five-dollar bill, dropped it on the table, and left the diner in a slew
of muttered curse words.

  6

  The whole diner erupted in sound and activity as people broke into excited conversation. Lou waddled out from the manager's office, followed closely by a wide-eyed Christy-Anne, and guided Lilah to a nearby table. “You okay? Did he hurt you?”

  Lilah held out her arm, an angry mark standing out on her forearm. “I think I’m okay. It hurt, but I don’t think I’m injured.” Lilah hated the way her hand trembled. She clenched it into a tight fist and pushed it into her lap.

  “He would have hit her, I know it,” sighed Christy Anne, her voice shrill as she bounced from foot to foot. “But that guy saved her.” She looked towards Cole, admiration swimming in her eyes. Lilah looked over her shoulder at Cole and saw the same look reflected in Penny’s eyes.

  “Thank you, Christy-Anne,” said Lou. “That’ll be enough.” The other waitress looked mildly disappointed and wandered back to check on her tables.

  “You sure you’re okay?” Lou asked Lilah. There was genuine concern in the old woman’s eyes and somehow that made all the fear dash from Lilah’s shaking hands and make an appearance as tears blurring her vision. “Oh, hell. Why am I not surprised you’re a crier?” Lou pulled a clean napkin out from around a roll of silverware and handed it to Lilah.

  “I’m sorry,” Lilah said, dabbing at her eyes. Anyone would cry in her situation. Right?

  Lou blew a long blast of air through her mouth. “I’m starting to think that’s the only thing you know how to say.”

  Lilah looked up and saw good humor painted across the other woman’s face. “I can see how you’d think that.” She took one more swipe at her eyes and let out a shuddering breath, pretty sure the threat of tears had passed. She gave Lou a watery smile. “I’m a pretty terrible waitress.”

  “You are one hell of a bad waitress.” Lou patted Lilah’s hand. “But I bet you’re all kinds of inspired to improve now.”

  Lilah nodded her head. “God, yes.”

  “Well good. It’s about damn time.” Kindness crinkled the corner of Lou’s eyes. “You go get yourself cleaned up. Then you take your happy ass back to the drink station and mop that sticky disaster you left for us back there and then get back to work. Understand?”

  “You’re not going to fire me?”

  “Not yet.”

  Thankful, Lilah bounded to the restroom and splashed some water on her cheeks, careful to avoid her eyes so she didn’t make an even bigger mess of her mascara. What would have happened if Cole hadn’t stepped up? Would that man have hit her? She remembered those bloodshot eyes, watery and unfocused, the stink of liquor tainting his breath, the barely controlled rage in his voice. She was ninety-nine percent sure that she’d be sporting more than a bruised forearm if it weren’t for Cole.

  Oh, shit!

  And she hadn’t even said thank you!

  Lilah dabbed her face dry and burst out of the restroom, making a beeline for Cole’s table only to find that he had already left with Penny. Damn it. She would have to knock on his door and thank him when she got home. Of course, she would probably interrupt his night of passion with Penny, but that might give the poor girl one more chance to come to her senses.

  She checked his table for a tip and found nothing. Fucking hypocrite, she thought as she headed back to collect the money Cole made Mr. Drunk & Scary leave for her. Making such a big deal about me being a human being and deserving a decent tip and then stiffing me himself. And wouldn't you know, the five-dollar bill was missing from the drunk’s table, too. Lilah sighed and shook her head before trudging back to find the mop.

  * * *

  At least the rust bucket started and made the whole five-minute trip home without any problems. The fact that that was the high point of the evening made Lilah roll her eyes. God, she missed her old life. Surely, this wasn’t the real world. This had to be some extreme version of normal life, made all the worse because of all the things her brothers wouldn’t let her bring with her.

  As she pulled the car into her parking spot, she saw Cole sitting on his doorstep, twirling a mostly full beer in his hand. He looked up as she got out of the car. “Hey there, 3B,” he said with a little nod of his head. “I got something for you.” He leaned off to the side and dug in his pocket, pulled out a wad of bills and held it out for her.

  Lilah crossed the small patch of mostly dead grass that separated her sidewalk from his. “What’s this?”

  “Some of it’s my tip. The rest is a replacement for that jerk’s tip. That bitch with the wet shirt swiped the fiver off his table while you were in the restroom. Didn’t want her swiping my tip, too.”

  Lilah took the money, peeled the five-dollar bill away from the rest and held it out to him. “You don’t have to tip me for that jerk.” She looked down at the rest of the money in her hand. “And honestly, I didn’t earn a tip from you either.” She tried to hand the whole wad of money back to him.

  “I’m not taking that money back.” How could he make kindness seem so stern? “You just put it in your pocket and use it to buy yourself another pack of pens or something.”

  Lilah shook her head and arranged the money before folding it neatly and sliding it into her pocket. “I didn’t get a chance to thank you,” she said.

  Cole shrugged. “No need.” He swirled his beer and took just the tiniest sip.

  “Yeah, there really is.” Lilah rubbed the sore spot on her forearm. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t stood up for me.”

  Cole ran a hand across the back of his neck and looked up at her. “You okay? Did he hurt you?” His eyes were a tempest of anger and concern.

  “I think I’ll have a bruise.” Lilah looked down at her arm. “And a damn good story, I guess.” She had hoped to make him smile, but the tiny muscle in his jaw pulsed and his eyes darkened. “Where’s Penny?” she asked as he took another tiny little sip from his beer.

  That brought out the shit-eating grin she was used to. “I thought I’d save you from having to bring another message to me tomorrow.”

  “How very chivalrous.” Lilah wrapped her arms around her middle and waited for more explanation. “Well, thank you again,” she said when none came. “I’ll see ya around, I guess.” Unnerved by his silence, Lilah took one step back towards her door and stopped. Waited for him to say something and then blinked a few times as she turned her back on the still silent Cole and dug in her purse for her keys.

  “You get that battery replaced?” he asked after she stepped up to her door.

  She stopped and took a few steps back towards him, surprised by how much she didn’t want to be done with this conversation. “Yep,” she said, smiling, proud of herself for being able to say that she had taken care of it.

  “But I bet it wasn’t until after you were stranded again.” Cole smiled at her and Lilah’s stomach dissolved into girlish giggles. “Right?”

  “I may have needed to call a tow truck.”

  “That’s what I thought,” said Cole, shaking his head and chuckling to himself. “You need to take better care of yourself, princess.” He took a long drink of his beer and stared ruefully at the bottle as he swallowed. Somehow, Lilah got the sense that the conversation was over and turned on her heel, smiling to herself as she stepped into her apartment.

  7

  Cole watched Lilah let herself into her apartment, stared at the door for a few seconds after she closed it behind her. Princess or not, she had a really nice smile. Like a ray of sunshine piercing a long row of storm clouds. Giving her the money had been the right decision just because it was actually the right thing to do, but that smile … what a bonus. He wanted to do more nice things for her just to see that smile again.

  Lord knew Cole could use some extra sunshine right now.

  He swirled his beer one more time, stared down at the bottle in his hand with a disdain that soured his stomach. He typically enjoyed a drink at the end of the day. Just one. Enough to take the edge off, and enough to prove he wasn’t his d
ad, in control of the drink rather than the other way around. Tonight though, he felt like a hypocrite, drinking his beer on his doorstep.

  He stood and stretched, rubbed a hand up his jawline and right on through to the back of his neck, before he cracked open his door and snuck inside. His mom was upstairs, hopefully asleep, busy resting and healing. The call had come in right as Lilah had disappeared into the restroom at the diner. His mom. Frantic and discombobulated. Whispering fragmented sentences that took too long to understand.

  Turns out his dad still packed quite a wallop. Enough of a wallop that his mom had waited for him to pass out, packed a small bag of stuff, and called Cole to come pick her up. She hadn’t even had to get the whole story out for Cole to be in motion. While his mom choked on her story on the other end of the phone, he stood, pulling a protesting Penny out of her chair, and after he threw some money at the cashier, informed his date that she would have to find her own way home.

  He left her stomping her foot and scowling after him as he jumped into the truck and raced towards his parent's house. He made his mom stay on the phone, even if she didn’t have anything to say because he couldn’t stand the thought of something else happening to her before he got there. At least this way, with the connection open between them, he could pretend he was in control. He listened to her hitching breaths and ragged coughs until he pulled into their driveway, the gravel crunching under his tires in that familiar, stomach-clenching sound that meant home.

  His mom had been waiting. She ran silently from the house and climbed up into the passenger seat, closing the door and pulling on her seatbelt without saying a word. When Cole saw his mom’s face, his heart surged with anger and sadness, guilt and despair and a rage so black and red and violent, he probably shouldn’t have allowed himself to drive. But there was a monster in that house. One that might wake up at any second and he didn’t have the luxury of time to sit in the driveway and calm down. Not if he really wanted to save his mom.