His Gymnast by Darcy Rose
3
Aria
I’ve heardabout the Hale brothers. They come here all the time, but I’ve never gotten their table before. I doubt the owner’s very happy the restaurant is the favorite spot for a bunch of criminals, but they never start trouble here and always spend a lot of money. I’ve heard they tip well, too.
I might even be glad to get their table if I was ever allowed to keep my tip money. Knowing I’ll have to hand it all over to Dale once I get home sort of puts a cloud over the whole thing.
It’s not my tip money I’m thinking of when I look over the table. One of them hasn’t taken his eyes off me since they first met mine. The way he’s staring at me should freak me out—I mean, I don’t know his name, but I know who he is. I’ve heard the rumors. I know what he is capable of. That, plus he’s already intimidating enough to look at, with all his ink and those dark, dangerous eyes of his.
I should be scared, but instead, my body is somehow drawn to him, like an invisible force pulling me closer. I must be going crazy. Maybe Dale knocked my head against the wall one too many times.
My hands sweat, making me grab the pen a little tighter. I can’t let any of them see how nervous they make me. I can’t lose my job because I pissed off the restaurant’s regulars. Plus, the inked-up one is kind of cute. Hot, even. He is also still staring at me. His eyes are glued to my face like he is memorizing every inch of it.
“Knox?” One of the brothers snaps his fingers when he hasn’t said anything yet. Knox. Interesting name.
Knox scowls at him. “Gin and tonic,” he tells me. I scribble that down before taking the other drink orders, then hustle over to the bar. I can feel Knox’s eyes on me the whole way. That would usually annoy me, but I’m used to it. There are certain things you learn to live with when you’re a waitress.
With him, though, it’s not even a matter of gritting my teeth and bearing it. It’s like a swarm of bees buzzing around in my stomach. I don’t mind at all.
For supposedly dangerous, scary guys, they’re nice to me while I take care of them, but then I’ve always heard they were respectful. Not like some people who act like going out to dinner means they have to be treated like royalty. Not to mention the messes some of them leave behind, messes which I have the displeasure of cleaning up. It makes me wonder if that’s how they act at home.
None of them has to look at the menu when it comes time to order their meals. Lasagna is our signature dish, and they are here all the time. I guess it makes sense. “Three lasagnas, and a triple order of garlic bread,” I repeat once they’re finished.
“And a platter of sausage and peppers,” Knox adds as I’m about to turn away.
One of his brothers laughs. They're twins, I realize. I didn’t take a good look at them when they first sat down, mostly because I was too busy wondering about Knox. Kane and Cash, if I remember correctly. “You worked up an appetite tonight.” His twin laughs along with him, and I can’t help but wonder what he means by that.
Knox doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t crack a smile. “I thought we could share it,” he says dryly.
Note to self—don’t try to joke with him. He must’ve been born without a sense of humor.
“One sausage and peppers, too.” I make sure to give him my widest smile because he’s the one I’m most interested in. I don’t know why I’m as drawn to him as I am. I don’t know why he stuck out at me the way he did the second I laid eyes on him.
I only know he’s the sort of guy who other men are afraid of…
An idea forms in my head like a spark in a dark night. Other men are afraid of people like the Hales. Men like Dale. I try to shove the idea out of my mind. That’s ridiculous. I can’t just ask a man I don’t know to help me. But the more I think about it, the more it makes sense.
Knox is someone who can help me. Somebody has to. I can’t spend the rest of my life this way. One day, Dale will go too far. One day, he’ll hit me just a little too hard or throw me down the stairs before I can prepare myself for the fall. Every time he hurts me, it’s one time closer to that last day. I’m living on borrowed time.
He’s a monster. The only thing that can stop him is another monster. One who’s bigger than he is.
I think I might’ve found the perfect candidate—now, all I have to do is get up the courage to ask if he’ll help me. I mean, how am I supposed to ask for help? You can’t just walk up to somebody and ask them to get rid of somebody for you.
Now that I’ve thought about it, I can’t get it out of my head. I have to get rid of Dale before he gets rid of me.
Knox stares at me when I drop off the garlic bread, when I refill their drinks, and when I bring out their entrees, complete with a steamy platter of sausage that smells good enough to make my mouth water. I wonder if they’ll be able to finish all of it, combined with the slabs of lasagna the line cooks plated for them. We don’t usually serve such huge pieces, but then not everybody is a Hale. Their drinks are a little fuller than the ones I usually serve, too.
Would it be wrong to see if I can sneak any leftovers for myself? I’m starving, even after eating the employee dinner the cooks left out for us.
It’s Dale’s fault you’re starving.My hand shakes a little when I place Knox’s plate in front of him. My eyes cut his way, and I notice him giving me a look. I wish I knew what it meant.
This might be my only chance. What if I don’t get their table again? What if I’m not here the next time he comes in? I have a couple of other tables to serve, but my thoughts won’t stop bouncing back and forth. Should I, or shouldn’t I? What can I even say to him?
They spend a little more than an hour eating and downing two more drinks each. Finally, one of the twins signals for the check, and I know it’s now or never. I have to find a way to pull Knox aside. Maybe I could slide him a note or something.
“Miss? Miss!” A woman at one of my other tables waves her arms over her head, looking like she found a pube-covered roach in her food. Her expression is that horrified. I can only drop off the check with the Hales before hurrying over to see what’s worth freaking out over.
Of course, by the time the problem’s solved—she wanted ketchup to go with her chicken parmesan, which I can’t even begin to understand—Knox is halfway out the door, trailing his brothers. My heart sinks. Now that he’s almost gone, there’s no doubt in my mind that I need his help. It’s busy up front by the hostess stand, so I manage to sneak out without anybody noticing.
“Excuse me?” I burst out of the restaurant, hot on his heels. “Knox? Can I talk to you for a second?” He’s already halfway to a car parked near the corner with his brothers way in front of him. His head is moving back and forth like he’s looking out for danger.
He spins around once he hears me, tense and snarling. “What the fuck are you doing following us?” He faces me with his arms folded, and all of a sudden, I don’t think this was such a good idea. Sitting down, he was manageable. I was taller than him. I was in control of the situation.
Now? I’m a bug he could squash. And he looks like he wouldn’t mind doing that, towering over me the way he does, looking at me like he’s disgusted.
“Well?” he barks, and I jump. I hate myself for jumping, for showing how intimidated I am. “What, pissed you didn’t get a bigger tip?”
“What? No. It wasn’t that at all. I didn’t even clear the check off your table yet.” I fall back a step because this was the dumbest idea I’ve ever had. He was nice to me when he wanted to be sure I wouldn’t spit in his food, but this is now. “Forget it.”
“Wait.” His hand shoots out and grabs my wrist. There’s an ugly bruise there, thanks to Dale, but it’s covered by my sleeve. That doesn’t mean I can’t feel it, though. I wince, sucking in air through my teeth before I can stop myself. It’s one of those uncontrollable reactions.
“Let me go,” I whisper, but he doesn’t. Instead, he yanks up my sleeve without even asking. He stares at the purple bruise, shaped like a hand, with finger marks and everything. I’m so ashamed. I want to crawl into a hole and die.
The one thing I’ve always made sure of was not letting anybody see the bruises. I know it’s not my fault—what he does to me—but I’m still ashamed.
I can only stare at the ground. I can’t look at him. I don’t want to know what he must think, like I’m weak or something. Like I can’t stand up for myself.
Knox’s voice sounds funny when he finally speaks. Tight. Like something’s squeezing his throat all of a sudden. “Who did this to you?”
And even now, I want to lie. It almost falls off my lips before I even think about it. I’m so used to trying to hide things and cover them up—not for Dale, but for me. It’s enough to make me laugh softly at myself.
Knox growls. “Tell me.” His hand tightens, and I wince again, harder this time.
“You’re hurting me.”
His eyes widen a little just before he lets go. “Why did you follow us out?” Somebody calls for him from the car, but he ignores them. He’s practically staring a hole through me. I wonder if he can even hear them.
I pull my sleeve down until it covers my hand, then tuck my arms close to my body. “I need help. Protection.”
“Protection?”
I nod, looking at the ground again. Now I wonder if this was a good idea or not. It seemed like it a few minutes ago, but something’s different now. He’s different. But I started this, so I might as well finish it. “Yeah. I don’t have any money, but I could pay you back. I promise. It’ll take a little time, but I swear, I’m good for it.”
He’s quiet for so long, I’d think he walked away if it wasn’t for the toes of his shoes staying in place. Now that I’ve said it out loud, I know it’s a stupid idea. I’m sure he thinks it is. “I don’t know how these things are usually done,” I mumble. “But I figured since you were here, I had to ask.”
“So, you think this is what my family does?”
“I thought so.” I glance around, hoping somebody will come to my rescue.
“That we take money to hurt people.”
“I didn’t ask for that. I asked if you would protect me.” I wish I had never set eyes on him or any of his brothers. I wish I hadn’t come to work. He sounds angry, suspicious, bitter.
“Who could somebody like you need protection from?” I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean. Somebody like me? People like me need protection all the time.
“Will you do it or not?” I have to force myself to pick my head up so he won’t see how humiliating this is. He has no idea how hard it is for me to ask for help.
He frowns, and once again, his eyes crawl over me. Finally, in a flat voice, he makes his decision. “I’ll think about it.” Then he’s gone, turning and walking to the car. I guess he’ll find me if he decides to help.
I wish I knew whether I had just made a huge mistake.
