Show Me the Way (Fight for Me #1)(59)

The aroma of chicken pot pie still wafted through the diner, the flaky crust and seasoned vegetables and savory chicken teasing my nose with the thought of finally sitting down to eat.

But it was the sight in front of me the clenched my chest.

Janel was lingering at the far wall where we hung our personal items, tucking a stack of cash held together by a money wrapper into her apron pocket. Shock had widened her eyes when she whipped around to face me where I stood in the doorway.

She wouldn’t.

Janel’s surprise shifted into a smirk. “Don’t be jealous I got great tips today and you made next to nothing. If you didn’t spend so much time eating the pies, you might actually make some money around here.”

Her jibes sank into me like darts, making me bow back, hit with physical pain. “I had more tables than you,” I said, forcing off the hurt, because that was just Janel’s way. I had learned to live with it. It was the only way I could remain friends with her, if that’s what I even wanted to call it.

Janel swept a long lock of blonde hair over her shoulder. “Well, tips have more to do with how you look and make a customer feel than putting their stupid food in front of them so they can stuff their faces. But I know you can’t relate to that.”

Anger slithered beneath my skin. I stilled when I heard my grandmother grumbling from out front. “What on earth . . . till is short a full hundred dollars.”

My mouth dropped open again, my head slowly shaking when I looked back at Janel. Guilt flashed through her pale blue eyes, and she rushed across the tiny room and grabbed my arm by both hands. “Rynna, please don’t say nothin’. My momma has been real short this month. Don’t think we’re gonna make rent. I’m so sorry. I just . . . I’m so ashamed. I didn’t want you to know.”

My head shook again, torn, my voice dropping to match Janel’s. “Why didn’t you just tell Gramma? You know she’d understand. Front you the money.”

“You know Momma’s pride,” she begged.

I swallowed around the jagged rock that cut up the base of my throat. This felt all wrong. So wrong.

I hesitated, and Janel squeezed my arm. “Please.”

I barely nodded and shifted to call down the hall, “Oh, Gramma, I’m so sorry I forgot to tell you. I needed it for new gym shoes.”

Gramma rounded the corner. “Corinne Paisley, you need to remember these things. Here I was, getting all worked up over nothing.”

“It slipped my mind. I’m really sorry,” I promised, glancing over my shoulder at Janel who’d turned away and was changing her shirt.

“Just glad it’s accounted for. Why don’t you get yourself some dinner, and I’ll sit down with you in a minute.”

“That sounds great.”

“How about you, Janel? You and your momma want to sit with us?”

Janel grabbed her purse from the hook. “Have plans, Mrs. Dayne. But thank you.”

Janel blew by both of us, and I headed out to the kitchen to grab a plate, hating the way regret had gathered in the pit of my stomach. The way everything felt wrong. Off. Like I was an accomplice of something I didn’t want partner to.

Filling a plate with dinner, I wound out front, stopping at the soda machine to grab a Coke. Laughter rang out behind me, and I swiveled to peek at one of the few tables still occupied in the diner.

It was filled by four boys.

Boys who were getting close to being men.

Aaron was at the window, his brown hair buzzed, so handsome that achy spot inside me flared.

I startled when I heard the giggle behind me. Janel was shaking her head as if she felt sorry for me. “Oh, Rynna, don’t do that to yourself. You know he’s so far out of your league. That crush you’ve had for all these years just makes you look pathetic.”

Discomfort climbed my throat, a sticky hurt that slicked my skin. I wanted to tell her to shut her stupid mouth. That I was so tired of her mind games. Of her manipulating every situation.

It wasn’t the first time I’d covered for Janel.

Not by far.

But I didn’t say anything. I just dropped my head and walked to the other side of the diner and sat down in the booth I always shared with my grandmother.





24





Rex





“Daddy!” Frankie came barreling out my mom’s door, brown hair a disaster and flying all around her. The kid was sporting that smile that melted me into a puddle of goo. Nothing but sticky sap right at her feet.

She had on a tank top and shorts. Since it was Frankie Leigh, she wasn’t about to stop there. She was also wearing an old pair of suspenders, which she’d gotten God knows where, and sky-high heels she’d pilfered from my mom’s closet that were ten sizes too big.

And surprise, surprise, that damned hot pink tutu.

Couldn’t help but grin.

Guess I really was a sucker for all that Frankie flare.

“There’s my girl.” The second she reached me, I swooped her into my arms and tossed her into the air. Exactly the way I knew she liked. My heart gave an extra boom at the sound of her laughter that rang through the morning. That sound alone had to be my single greatest joy.

I caught her, hugging her to my chest, pushing my nose into her hair, breathing in my little girl.