He nods at me, but his look isn’t exactly friendly.
“I’m sorry,” I stammer, “I…”
“Yo. Aurora.” Tank waves and makes the high-five motion in the air. “You know what to do.”
Aurora does not, however, know what to do, and she buries her face in my shoulder.
“Sorry to bother you,” I say.
Viper spikes a dark brow up into his forehead and looks from me to Tank. “We’re done here,” he tells me, but it sounds like he just decided that. He turns, and the heels of his boots striking the pristine concrete floor of the garage make the hairs on my arms rise.
I’m uncomfortable interrupting these guys doing whatever they are doing. I’m uncomfortable asking for favors, but the sooner I get to finding a job, the sooner I can get out of all of their hair.
Viper passes by me, looking at Aurora like she’s a contestant in the world’s strangest animal contest, andthen heads back into the compound. Tank saunters over to me.
“You need a driver today?” he asks.
“That depends,” I tell him. “Will I be interrupting any big date plans?”
Tank frowns. “I don’t think she’s into me,” he grumbles. “I think I’ve been fucking friend-zoned.”
“You sure about that?” I ask. “You want to tell me what happened?”
He nods and heads out of the garage. As he passes me, he holds out his arm for my diaper bag. “I got that,” he says. “Car seat is still in my truck. You know, it’s funny, because…”
He’s telling me about the girl he’s seeing, but the minute we walk back into the compound, I feel a set of deep brown eyes on me. Savage is freshly showered, his hair is swept back from his face and tied down with a worn red bandana, and he’s got well broken-in blue jeans on with a thin white tank top.
He watches me as I walk past him, his face an unreadable mask. I can’t tell if he’s angry or confused. And that just drives home the point even more.
I don’t really know him.
But everything we shared comes crashing into my heart at full speed. I give him a thin smile, look away from his beautiful brown eyes, and follow Tank to the parking lot.
Neither one of us says a word.
I’m sittingat my usual table at the diner. I’ve got my laptop open, and I’m trying to tap away at the keys. How do you write a résumé when you don’t have an address? I don’t think anyone will know my phone is just a burner, but I don’t honestly know. Is it a real number? If someone Googles it or Googles me, what will they find?
I sip my coffee and try to appease Aurora with smiles and cups of juice, but it’s as if, today, absolutely nothing is going to be easy.
I have to bounce Aurora on my lap, let her crawl around in the booth, and finally, I have to get up and leave everything at the table and trust that no one will steal my stuff.
Aurora doesn’t want to play or eat, and I don’t think she’s tired. I run a finger along her gums again, and I can feel a sharpness in one spot, but maybe my mind is playing tricks on me.
A thousand things run through my head. Maybe she’s eaten something that doesn’t agree with her and she’s just not feeling right.
We’ve been through so many changes, and I’m alone for all of it. No mother. No sisters. No one.
I swallow back tears and rest my hand on Aurora’s back. I try to soothe her and bounce her on my heels, but eventually, I look at her little face and ask, “What’s wrong, baby? Mama just doesn’t know what you need.”
Thankfully, it’s a late morning in the middle of the week, so there aren’t too many people to witness our mini-meltdown.
Suddenly, I feel a light hand on my shoulder. “Honey, it looks like it’s one of those days. Can I get you something?”
I turn and meet the face of Val, my now-favorite waitress. She’s holding my diaper bag and a huge to-go bag.
She looks down at my things in her hand. “I hope you don’t mind. I’m going on break soon, and I didn’t trust that anyone else would look after your things. You hardly touched your breakfast, so I boxed it up, and I put a fresh cup of coffee in there.” She smiles, a caring, wistful smile. “I just closed your laptop and slid it in the bag. I’m not very good with technology, so I hope I did it all right.”
Hot tears burn behind my eyelids, and the tip of my nose stings. “Val,” I say, “you didn’t have to do that. Let me pay the bill, and I’ll get?—”
