Slade's Fall: Bastards and Badges by Andi Rhodes

Author:Andi Rhodes [Rhodes, Andi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Blue Journey Publishing, LLC
Published: 2020-07-01T16:00:00+00:00

16

Brandie

“If you insist on walking with me, you better get moving.”

I stand by the front door of my apartment with my arms crossed over my chest and my foot tapping on the floor. It’s my first day back to work and, despite my attitude, I’m grateful that Slade isn’t going to let me go alone.

“Remind me again why you agreed to work this early?”

Slade has bitched about the early hour from the moment he woke up. I wasn’t exactly thrilled to leave the bed either, considering I was curled up against warm, delicious man, but that’s life.

“I took the shift offered. I’m not exactly in a position to argue with Chubby, now am I?”

“You’re in a better position than you think.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” he mumbles. When his shoes are tied, he stands up straight, and I’m momentarily struck dumb at the sight of him. “Let’s go.”

I manage to unglue my feet and when Slade closes the door behind us, he sticks his key in the new lock he installed yesterday after lunch. The walk to the diner is uneventful. I can tell Slade wants to stick around, but after a shared look with Chubby, he leaves.

Within minutes of arriving, the breakfast crowd starts to show, and before I have a chance to wonder about the look, I’m swept up in work and keeping the customers happy. I’m clearing tables when I feel a hand on my shoulder, and it startles me so badly that I whirl around and drop the bin of dirty dishes I had resting on my hip.

The eyes of any remaining customers all focus on me, and heat creeps up my neck. Chubby races out of the kitchen and stops next to Allen, who is standing in front of me with his hands raised, palms out.

“What the hell?” Chubby glares at Allen.

I bend down to start picking up everything I dropped. “Sorry. I’ll get it cleaned up.”

“Brandie, stop.” Chubby’s voice carries an air of authority, and I stop what I’m doing and glance up to see him turn to Allen. “Since you caused this mess, you can help her clean it up.”

“I’m a customer,” Allen argues, sounding outraged. “You can’t make me clean up her shit.”

“Have you ordered any food today?” Chubby asks, and Allen shakes his head. “Did you come in here to order food?”

Allen looks at me and then returns his attention to Chubby. “Well, no, but—”

“But nothing,” Chubby snaps. “You’re not a customer today.”

Allen huffs out a breath. Apparently, he’s done arguing because he bends down to help me pick everything up. It takes a few minutes, and when I'm sure we’ve gotten all of the broken glass, I go grab the mop from the kitchen, not looking at Chubby as I do.

“Why are you here?” I ask Allen when I return.

An odd look comes across his face, but I dismiss it as frustration at having been forced to help me clean up.

“Can’t a guy just stop by to say ‘hi’?”

I study his face, his eyes, trying to find something, anything, that will tell me his motivations.

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