Themanager steps out from the kitchen, scowling at the commotion. His name tag reads PAUL, SHIFT MANAGER stamped underneath. “Cammi! What’s going on here?”
She flinches under his glare. I can see it in her shoulders. She doesn’t need this right now.
“That’s your third strike,” Paul says. “You’re causing a scene, and I can’t have it anymore. Get your things. Leave. Now.” He turns and marches straight back into the kitchen before I can make him understand what’s actually happening.
My hands clench, jaw tight.
Rick’s laughter fills the silence. “Come here, Cammi. Maybe I can talk your manager into keeping you.”
I don’t think. One second I’m shielding her, the next, I’ve got Rick slammed against the nearest wall, my hand around his throat. All I can see is the fear he stirs in her, and I squeeze harder. My control lies in shambles.
His own fear surfaces as he struggles to breathe, and I feel nothing but satisfaction. He should remember my face because no one touches what’s mine. I don’t know how or when I started thinking of Cammi as mine—only that she’s lodged somewhere I can’t shake loose.
A soft palm lands on my back.Cammi.
“I’m fine,” she reassures me.
I ease off, leaning in close to Rick’s ear. “You don’t ever come near her again,” I say. Low. Calm. Final.
He stares at me a beat too long. “This isn’t over,” he vows, then stalks out.
I turn back to Cammi, taking in her hunched shoulders and defeated look. “Grab your stuff and let me walk you home,” I say, gentle now.
She nods and goes around the counter to grab her bag.
Outside the diner, she’s silent. I want to ask questions. About Rick. What she’s going to do now with no job. But I can’t. I keep quiet and let her be.
Then, I hear a sniff. I glance over and see her trembling, tears threatening to break free. I take a careful step closer.
“Hey,” I murmur. She looks up at me. Eyes wide. Vulnerable. And in that moment, something settles in me. “You’re safe,” I say softly. “I’ve got you.”
She blinks, nods, and wraps her arms around herself, fighting to steady her breathing. I watch her, quietly, letting her catch herself. She swallows hard, then nods. “Thank you,” she whispers.
The city hums around us—distant horns, faint laughter from a nearby bar, the usual bustle—but all of it fades the second she leans into me, still clutching her bag.
“Cammi.”
She shakes her head, trying to hold herself together, but the tears come anyway. Slow at first, then faster, sliding down her cheeks. I catch her hands before they can fumble with the strap of her bag and pull her close, just enough to steady her.
“Shh. It’s okay,” I say softly. My chest aches at the sight of her tears. “Don’t cry, please.”
“I can’t…s-stop,” she stammers, the words snagging in her throat. Panic flickers across her face.
I gather her against me. “Don’t cry,angel,” I murmur.
It was a slip. But the name feels right. It’s what I’ve been calling her in my head since the first time I saw her, and now it’s out, spoken into the night. Her eyes widen as she looks up at me. Vulnerable. Shy. So beautiful.
I wipe her tears with my thumb. Then I walk her the rest of the way home, slow, her bag on her shoulder and her steps falling into rhythm with mine. She’s quiet for a while, gathering herself. I keep my eyes ahead, butI want to know everything.
Finally, she breaks the silence. Small. Hesitant. “My mom’s an alcoholic. Has been that way ever since I’ve known what it meant to be drunk.”
I keep my pace easy beside her, giving her room. “Go on.”
“She’d come home drunk and angry. After I started school, it got worse. I’d find her passed out somewhere in the apartment. There was never any food. I learned early to take money from her purse just so I wouldn’t go hungry.” She exhales. “For a long time, I kept hoping someone would come take care of me for once. Then I gave up on that.”
I don’t fill the quiet. I just let her know I’m listening, my shoulder close to hers.
“Then Rick came along. Her new boyfriend. I thought he might be different.” A bitter breath. “Didn’t take long to see what he really was. The way he looked at me made me feel filthy. I always knew he’d stop just looking eventually.” Her voice trembles. That night, he came for the rent. I said I didn’t have it. He told me I could pay another way.
