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Because the air had thickened, and there wasn’t any piece of this that felt innocent.

“Better?” It was jagged and forced.

Elena’s throat bobbed. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Good. Now why don’t you leave the grunt work to the grunt? I don’t want you going around trying to break yourself when you have me to do it, yeah?”

There were very few things I was good for.

Maiming and killing predominantly.

Sabotaging the sick and twisted.

That and moving random pieces of furniture.

But above it all? It was taking care of her.

And that meant breaking myself over and over for the sake of Elena Mercer.

NINE

ELENA

“So, let’s say you’re working here alone on a Saturday, and it’s been dead for most of the day, but all of a sudden, it gets super busy, and you have customers to ring up and another person across the store has a question, how would you handle it?”

I hoped my expression conveyed open and interested as I blinked across at the seventh person I’d interviewed today.

Who knew these kinds of conversations could be so exhausting?

I was going to have to take up cardio.

She looked confused as she shifted in her chair. Sydni was her name. In her late twenties, a handful of years older than me, and she’d just moved here from Florida to ‘test out the small-town life’.

“Oh, well, I wouldn’t be here because I can’t work on Saturdays, so I guess that makes it an easy question.”

My lips pressed into a thin line, and I could hear Trevan’s barely contained chuckle from where he was behind the long counter with his back to us. Acting like he was busy when the only thing keeping him busy was ensuring his business was all up in mine.

I didn’t have time to scowl at him since I was trying to keep my irritation from pouring out. “But you realize you’re interviewing for the Thursday through Sunday position?”

I phrased it as a question. A gentle nudge. A prodding.

It was a whole lot better than shouting that she was wasting my time.

“Oh, I just thought once you met me you wouldn’t care what days I could work.”

I’d always considered myself friendly. Maybe overly so.

But right then, I was having a hard time even smiling.

Maybe I got why Silas was always so surly and grumpy. Having to keep a boatload of bikers in line. I couldn’t even get someone to apply for a job correctly.

“Great,” I peeped, not even sure the response made sense. “I appreciate your time, and I’ll be in touch soon with my decision.”

“So did I get it?”

“I’ll be sure to let you know.”

“Well, I need to know because I have another offer already.”