Beautifully Cruel (Beautifully Cruel #1)(30)

“Tru!”

“I know,” I say drily. “I look like a punching bag. It looks worse than it feels.”

“What happened?” Ignoring her customer, who’s obviously peeved about the mess, she rushes over to me and gives me a one-armed hug.

I think it’s best to be circumspect about the whole situation, especially in light of Buddy’s obvious fear about anything getting back to Liam, so I shrug and say, “Long story.”

She lowers her voice. “Did someone hit you?”

“Something like that. I don’t really want to get into it. I just came by to get my handbag and pick up my car.”

She takes me by the arm and steers me into the back, past the kitchen. Diego’s not on shift yet, so there’s another guy behind the grill, an older man named Tony who doesn’t look up as we pass.

When Lisa and I find a quiet corner, she turns on me and says sternly, “If you’re being abused by a man, I’ll help you. There are a lot of resources out there—”

“If a man laid a hand on me in anger, he’d lose the hand. It’s not that.”

“So what then? Did you fall?”

“I was jumped. By a couple of guys I didn’t know.”

Her blue eyes widen. “Oh, my god. I’m so sorry, sweetie! Are you okay?”

“Yes. I got lucky.” A wolf saved my life. “Honestly, I’m fine. I…got away from them.”

“Where did this happen?”

I hesitate, because I don’t want to scare her. “In the alley behind the restaurant. I was taking out the trash.”

Her face pales. “Holy shit. Nobody said anything about it to us! Did the police catch the guys?”

Oh god. How do I explain this? “They’re, um, looking into it.”

None of these things are lies, but they’re not exactly truths, either. Since I know what Buddy told Carla and Diego, I want to keep my story in line with that. And considering how spooked he was about Liam, there’s no chance in hell I’m mentioning his name to anyone else.

I can’t wait to see what I can find out about him online.

Lisa’s customer calls out from the front. “Can someone clean up this coffee, please? It’s dripping onto my lap!”

“Shit,” mutters Lisa.

“Get back to work,” I say, smiling at her. “And thanks for being so sweet.”

She gives me another hug, tells me to get Arnica cream for the bruising and to call her if I need anything, then heads back out to the front.

I go into the break room and quickly grab my bag from the locker, then leave through the side door that leads to the parking lot to avoid any more conversation with Lisa.

Which is where I run into Diego, who’s just coming in.

He stops dead in his tracks when he sees me. His mouth falls open in disbelief.

I hold up a hand and walk closer to him. “I’m okay. Don’t freak out.”

He says something in Spanish, his gaze roving over my face. He’s dressed in jeans, a black pea coat, and boots, his dark hair combed and his face freshly shaven.

As soon as I’m within arms’ length, he pulls me into a hug.

“Chica,” he says, his voice uneven. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

I try to keep my voice light, because even though I told him not to freak out, he obviously is. “Good to know I’m that frightening.”

He pulls away. Holding me by the shoulders, he looks me over again, his brows pulled together and his expression distraught. “Me and Carla…we didn’t know what the fuck happened. One minute you were there, the next you were gone. Buddy said you got attacked? You were in the hospital?”

“Yeah. But I’m fine now. No damage, other than what you see.”

I smile at him, hoping to avoid the interrogation I sense is coming.

No luck. He starts to grill me relentlessly.

“So, what happened? How many of them were there? Had you ever seen them before? What did your doctors say? What are the cops doing to help? When are you coming back to work?”

He pauses, and his voice gets strangled. “And can you ever forgive me for not taking out the fucking trash myself?”

I sigh. “There’s nothing to forgive. Stop being such a drama queen. I’m fine, truly. Honestly, I just want to put the whole thing behind me.”

He moistens his lips, swallows, shakes his head like he’s in denial about something. “I should’ve never let you go outside alone so late. I should’ve never. I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking. I should’ve—”

“Stop.”

He clamps his mouth shut and stares at me.

“It wasn’t your fault, Diego. There are some bad people in the world, who do bad things. This isn’t on you in any way, okay?”

He pulls me into another hug, but this one feels different. More tender, somehow. He holds me like he doesn’t want to let me go.

Five seconds into it, I’m uncomfortable.

I pull away, smiling awkwardly, and push my hair behind my ear. He shoves his hands into his front pockets. We stand there in silence for a moment, until he says, “I tried calling all the hospitals around, but they all said there was no Truvy Sullivan checked in.”

“Really? That’s strange.” I have no idea what else to say.