Vicious Minds (Children of Vice #4)(11)

She sighed heavily. “I’m sure you’re not the brains of the operation up here are you, careverga?”

He stepped up. “What did you just call me—”

“Is there a problem here?” Tobias boomed, and the previously inattentive guards stiffened and drew their guns as the mystery woman approached.

Taking in the scene around her, she pulled on the badge attached to her yellow V-neck shirt, displaying her identification. “I’m the cook, unless you all came here to not eat. In that case I’ll make sure María Paula charges you by the minute.”

Tobias looked back at me and I nodded my assent. He stepped out of the way, allowing me to see her clearly, and it didn’t take a genius to see why they were all looking at her as if they were animals. Their eyes roamed the curves of her body, and she didn’t discourage it with the ripped jean shorts she wore that exposed her toned legs and hugged the curve of her ass. Her crop top also showcased her smooth stomach. Her dark brown hair was tied in a messy bun.

“Boss man, can you hurry up and get to my face so I can take your order?” she requested, pen and notepad in hand. At that I looked at her face to find to grey eyes staring back me with irritation, despite the fact she had the fakest smile directed at me.

“Where is María Paula?”

“Sorry, sir. That is not on the menu. Would you like me to recommend something, or do you need more time?” she asked politely, though nothing in her demeanor seemed to convey the same message.

“I do not like repeating my questions.”

“Who does?” she asked blankly. “I assure you, a waitress who spent all night cleaning this damn place believing she’d have the weekend off, only to be called back in at the crack of dawn to make breakfast for a kingpin, a cartel, the mafia, a rich, selfish American, or whatever you are, also does not like repeating her questions. She also doesn’t like being asked questions not related to making breakfast because that could end her life, and oh yeah, she doesn’t like the men-pigs staring at her ass behind her. But what can she do except happily take your order?”

Again, she offered her fake smile.

“She could wear longer, looser shorts if she doesn’t like the attention,” I replied, thoroughly amused at how annoyed she was.

“She could.” She nodded to me as if I was being an idiot. “However, she doesn’t want to forsake her love of wearing whatever the fuck she wants to wear because of pigs. Besides, it’s their balls that are in pain not, mine. So, third time, your order please?”

“At this point I don’t think I trust you to boil water for me,” I said and she inhaled slowly, obviously trying to calm herself. When she exhaled, she pulled out the chair across from me and took a seat. “Excuse you?”

“The shop doesn’t open for another two hours, so I’m going to rest here until you muster up the trust in your order or you leave,” she challenged. “Oh, right, you must have important business talk about with your goons. Don’t mind me, I won’t listen to a thing. Kick my foot if you need me.”

She reached into her into the apron around her waist pulling out her smartphone. She put her earbuds in, and whatever the hell she was listening to was so damn loud the earbuds were almost pointless.

She sat there completely ignoring me and smiling, a real smile at whatever the hell she was watching. I looked over to the men and when I did, they all looked away.

Well, this was new.

Lifting the newspaper, I read quietly.

I’m not sure how much time passed.

But before I realized it, I’d finished the paper and Tobias was next to me. “Boss, it’s time.”

I rose from my chair and realized she was sleeping, using her arm as pillow.

Placing a few bills on the table, I lifted my chin, silently ordering them to leave.



Sunday, June 24th





She stomped up the stairs this time dressed in a white lace skirt and floral strapless blouse. My men gave her a wide berth as she came to my table. “It is the day of rest! The Lord’s day! We are closed.”

“You really have no fear for your life, do you?”

“We all die someday, don’t we?” she deflected, reaching into her bag and pulling out the money I left on the table for her. “And this? Don’t do this! This is how men like you confuse women.”

“Excuse me?”

Sighing, she took a seat across from me. “Rich, powerful, and dangerous man walks into a small restaurant. Beautiful waitress—”

“That’s you?” I questioned.

“Do you see any other waitress?” She pursed her lips, waving her hands, gesturing around the diner. “No, you don’t. Why? Because most them got caught up with men like you.”

“Men like me? Rich, powerful, and dangerous men?”

She nodded and went on. “You go to restaurants flashing your money and fancy cars. You hit on the hottest waitress. You all really do love a woman that has to attend to you. I think it might be the whole waiting ‘on your every damn desire’ that gets your mans up. You come often, leave large tips, say nice things, the beautiful waitress thinks she’s found her knight in shining armor, next thing you know she’s either drugged out, pimped out, or just out…dead, sometimes just lying on the corner of the street.”