He watched her weave through the tables, smile at customers, and tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear.She looked efficient.It was obviously not her first waitress job.She was doing everything right.
So why did something feel off?
Her answers were exactly what he wanted to hear.She had a job.A place to sleep.Food.Safety.Everything she'd said she needed.
But the tremor in her hands.
The stiffness in her shoulders.
The way she refused to meet his eyes.
Something wasn't right.
Duke nudged him with his boot under the table."You gonna stare at her like a predator?"
Baddy didn't look away from Lydia.
"Shut the fuck up," he muttered.
Because he wasn't staring.
He was studying.
Trying to figure out what she wasn't saying.
Trying to figure out why the hell his gut told him something was wrong.
Chapter 12
Lydia unhooked herbra and pulled her arms out of the straps, slipping it off without taking off her shirt.Relief came instantly.It was a long eight hours, and she'd quickly learned that Fridays at the diner had twice as many customers as any other day.
A knock rattled the apartment door.
She froze, heart jumping.
Even though Hannah and Madison, two of the six waitresses employed at the diner, lived in the other two apartments on the second floor, no one had ever knocked on her door before.Patty had already left to go home, and the diner was closed.
