“By the time you get back with my order, my boys will have cleared the table and it will just be you, me, and a mountain of meat to talk over. It's in your interests to make this happen, Ayda. Don't make me regret not ordering the mushrooms.”
Her head lifted briefly, her eyes moving over her shoulder again. Whether she was looking for help or permission was anyone’s guess. “Okay, just let me get someone to cover my break. I’ll come back with your food.”
I flashed her a smile and hid my surprise at how easily she'd done as she was told. “Good girl.”
My body twisted back in my seat. Looking up at the guys around the table, I didn't need to tell them what to do. A quick nod over my shoulder and they knew the score. It only took a few seconds for them all to grab their drinks and slip away, but not without a few huffs and grumbles beforehand.
I took a minute to gather myself together while I waited. My body shifted into the central seat as I leaned back, rolled my neck and pulled down on the edges of my leather cut. I was about to make sober conversation with the first person outside of the pack since I got out, and no fucker was going to know how uneasy that made me feel. All I had to do now was take a breath, keep my eyes on the table and wait. And when her feet approached several minutes later, and a plate of food was slowly pushed in front of me, I kept my chin low, castingher only the briefest of glances.
“Take a seat,” I ordered quietly, grabbing the cutlery and pointing to the space directly opposite me.
Her eyes widened for a moment before moving to the kitchen to make sure the rest of the orders came out in an orderly fashion. She then smoothed the back of the hideous brown dress against her legs and slid into the seat opposite me. “Okay, Mr. Tucker. You have my undivided attention. Now what?”
“Now…” I waited, rolling the knife and fork around in my hands before eventually looking up at her. “I'm going to eat, and you're going to tell me everything you think I should know about Ayda Hanagan, big mouth extraordinaire.” My knife and fork cut into the first bit of meat I came to.
Ayda leaned forward, her elbows on the table as her hands clasped together in front of her. She studied me for a moment before dropping her eyes, obviously unsure how far she should go. “I’m not entirely sure I understand what you’re asking for. What does getting to know me have to do with repaying you for the wrong my brother did?”
Raising my fork to my mouth, I let it hover just over my lips and narrowed my eyes. “I'm not sureIunderstand why you think you need to understand what's going on here. And I'm not sureyouunderstand how to save your own neck when it's being held firmly against the chopping block.”
The press of her lips and contemplative silence spoke more than her words could have. She seemed to think about her options before sucking in a breath, her hands unclasping and landing palm down on the Formica table top, one finger tracing the wood grain. While there was so obviously fear there, she wore a look of something else, too. I couldn’t putmy finger on it no matter how hard I tried.
“I’m twenty-five, legal guardian to my fifteen-year-old brother—”
Pushing the fork into my mouth, I waved my wrist around in the air and chewed down on my first bite of decent food in years, effectively cutting her off with nothing but the weak huff of a laugh that left my nostrils. My jaw rolled slowly as I watched her lips remain parted, her eyes unblinking while I leaned forward and half rolled my own. “You're twenty-five years old, legal guardian to your brother, Tate Michael Hanagan, after your thirty-eight-year-old parents were tragically gunned down in a bank robbery gone wrong. Michael and Linda, if I remember correctly. The file looked a little hazy this morning. You were born in Memorial Hermann in Houston, Texas on April 10, 1989. Your parents moved to Babylon in 2001 and you went to Babylon High School, where you once tried out for a cheerleading squad and ended up with a broken ankle. Your medical records are otherwise clean and your criminal record is even cleaner. Up until a few nights ago, you had three jobs, but it turns out twenty-five is too old for multitasking on roller skates these days. Shame. It’s obviously one of the reasons your ass is so good. Now you’ll probably have to take up yoga like the rest of the women in this town. Blonde hair, obviously. Blue eyes. Perfect. I'm guessing at a 32C rack and a size six shoe. I know all this shit already. Let's skip the formalities and get down to the good stuff. Who are you, Ayda?”
Her eyes flashed, one palm rising to her forehead as she stared at me with stark panic. Her eyes flickered through several emotions before she shut them, effectively locking me out and keeping me from reading her. “If you already knewall that, why the hell did you ask? More to the point, why are you toying with me? I realize I’m doing the penance for my brother, but I wasn’t the one who broke into your place. I’m trying to do the best I can. Two of my jobs barely cover the mortgage and it’s a good month when we don’t eat Ramen noodles every night. Isthatwhat you want to hear, Drew Tucker? You want to rub my nose in how pathetic I am? Believe me, I already know.”
“The last thing I want is to listen to a one person pity party, sweetheart. You think you're the only one around here struggling? Think again. This is just one man, sitting across from one woman, making conversation. You think you can get on board with that, or did you leave the last of your impeccable manners out on the lawn last night?” My hands got to work calmly, tearing into the food on my plate without much thought as I held her gaze and continued to eat.
“You’re talking to me about manners?”
“Would you rather me talk about your tits?”
“You’re a typical asshole, you know that?”
“Thank you.”
“Thatwasn’ta compliment.”
“It is in my circle. Although, you should know, it's not nice to pigeonhole folks these days. We live in a PC world, apparently. Not all assholes are as assholey as this asshole.”
For a moment, I thought she was going to laugh. Maybe she did, but rather than allowing me to see it, she dropped her forehead to the back of her hands. “All you really need to know about me is this. I love my brother. I will do anything for him, and stop at nothing to protect him. I don’t regret quitting college to bring him up, and though I miss my parents every single day, I have cherished every single moment I’vehad to be both his mother and his father. There’s nothing other than that.”
I looked down at the pancakes on the side, slowly sliding my knife over to one before pressing the tip of it into the center and remaining still. “Favorite color?”
“Green.”
“Favorite day to clean at home?”
“Sunday nights, so I can start the week fresh.”
“Favorite type of music?”
“Anythingbutrap, although I am partial to classic rock.”
“Okay.” I nodded slowly, jabbing my tongue into the teeth at the back of my mouth in thought before flicking it around on the inside of my bottom lip. “A green apron on a Sunday night with some classic rock as background music. I can fix that up for you.” I looked up, reaching out for my coffee at the side and eyeing every reaction she had as I took a drink and landed it back on the table. “If you're willing to do anything for your brother, you can pay his debts off by working for me. He broke my bed,” I lied, knowing she couldn't see shit of the deceit on my face because if there was one thing I knew I could fool anyone with, it was my poker face. “He broke through the window. There's some wood damage to the ledge and a crack in the glass. Safes aren't easy or cheap to replace, either, and someone tried to gain access. Seeing as he was the only one there, I'm holding him responsible. Or rather, you.”
There was a moment’s pause as she seemed to add up all of the damage in her head and when she finally looked up, I wasn’t sure if her smile was sarcastic or resigned. “Don’t tell me, you have one of those fancyTempur-Pedicsleep number things that cost the same as a small mortgage?”
