Chapter 10

Sara

"Danger doesn't simply lurk in the shadows. Often those most dangerous are those we believe we can trust the most."

My mother's sentiments had shifted into my mind for some reason and I wasn't certain why.

Except that just before eleven p.m., three men walked in through the doors and for some reason, I had a very bad feeling. Most of the customers had already left, only a couple of stragglers finishing up a date night pie or a milkshake, which the diner was known for. We were almost ready to close. I'd already started doing closing duties and had a sense given their rowdy behavior and loud voices they'd been drinking.

Sure, we were a stop-off point given several bars were close by. Those partaking in too much alcohol often came in for some carbs to fill their stomachs. However, a sick feeling pooled in my belly. I smelled trouble.

Ashleigh moved beside me, exhaling deeply. "Shit."

"You know them?"

"Troublemakers. They have been since they were kids coming in here stealing food from my grandpappy as if it was an initiation right to whatever school clique or fraternity they were involved in. The one kid, Zane, had been in trouble with the law, last time for beating up his girlfriend pretty badly. She landed in the hospital and Daddy got him off with a single phone call."

"That's terrible."

She grimaced. "Yeah, the girl will need to use a cane for the rest of her life but at least she's alive. They have too much money in their trust funds and not enough common sense. And they're drunk. Remind them we're closing in ten minutes. Period. Be careful of Zane. He comes on like a bull in a china shop."

Great. That meant I had to wait on them. "You know I can handle myself with asshole men. I'll get them out of here. Don't worry. I have my ways." I was rather famous in the dining world for being able to convince unwanted patrons to leave.

"Yeah, but I worry about you, girl. You need a knight in shining armor instead of doing it yourself. Just be mindful of him."

"I will. I promise."

As they took a booth, one of them immediately grabbing one of the saltshakers I'd filled, twisting the top then pouring the entire contents on the table, I already had to fight my anger. I loathed entitled fuckheads who acted as if we working people were beneath them.

As the one guy started to run his finger through the mess he'd made, I stopped just shy of the table, folding my arms. "I can see you're not an artist." I couldn't help myself.

The guy's companions laughed but the one I'd made fun of scrunched up his face like I'd seen dozens of times in playgrounds over the years, little boys stomping their feet because they didn't get their way.

He snarled as he lifted his head like some animal. Did he really think that was going to scare me? "Don't be a bitch, sugar britches, and bring us some food."

"Shut up, Zane. Quit fucking around. Can't you see the girl's trying to be pain in the ass." One of the others grinned, giving me a hard look, which I gave right back to him. They were easily in their late twenties yet still acted as if Daddy's purse strings would keep them in the way of life they'd grown used to.

When Zane made a lurid sound, slurping and using his tongue like a snake, I planted my palms on the table, leaning over and smiling like I was actually enamored with them. "What will you boys have? Maybe a hot dog to try and add some length to your tiny little dicks?"

I could tell all three of them were shocked I dared attack them verbally that way.

"Okay, she is a little bitch," the second guy said.

"You have no idea. I eat little boys like you for breakfast." When I growled on purpose, I sensed pretty boy Zane was incensed. How dare a woman attack his masculinity? "So here's the deal. We're closed. Go somewhere else."

I wasn't certain if what I said would work, but it was worth a try.

"You're not closed," the second guy piped in.

"According to the health department who just found rat feces in our soup and condiments, yes, we are." I was shocked my lie had worked. When they acted like they were leaving, I backed away from the table, giving them a happy little look.

Jerk boy Zane decided to take the condiments from the table, pitching them onto the floor. The glass exploded, including the ketchup bottle since Ashleigh had insisted glass be used. He pushed me back, almost knocking me to the floor.

"I suggest you stop tormenting the lady or you'll need to deal with me."

As if coming out of some hero novel, all of a sudden, my new boss appeared from the shadows. I shivered and wanted to tell him I could take care of myself, but given what Ashleigh had told me, maybe having a big strapping man as my backup wasn't a bad idea.

Easton stood in a dark tee shirt and jeans, the tightness providing a clear indication of just how muscular he was.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" Zane puffed up, getting right in Easton's face.

I almost said ‘uh-oh' but refrained.

"Stop, Zane," the second guy hissed as he rushed to his feet, trying to tug his buddy back a few inches. "Let's just go. We'll get some food at another place."

"Fuck you," Zane huffed. "I asked you a question, you old dude."

For all the things I thought about Easton, I still wasn't prepared for when he threw two brutal punches to Zane's face, and I heard the kid's nose break.

"This is the last warning you're going to get. Leave the lady alone," Easton growled in a voice I'd never heard before.

The third guy sitting at the table jerked to his feet, backing away as if acid had been tossed on him.

But good ole Zane thought he could take Easton, who stood at least six inches taller and outweighed him by forty or fifty pounds. When he threw a couple of punches of his own, Easton simply wrapped one hand around Zane's fist, using enough pressure the asshole cried out in pain.

But when he swung Zane around, using a chokehold that I knew could easily break his neck, I couldn't allow that to happen.

"Don't, Mr. Saint. Zane and his friends were just leaving." I glared from one to the other, the two companions easily getting it was in their best interest to leave while Zane continued to struggle.

"Come on, man. Stop acting like a turd," the third guy finally piped in.

"Please, just let him go," I said softly and placed my hand on Easton's arm. The shot of electricity was raw and white-hot and I was forced to curl my fingers to keep from getting burned.

Easton took a deep breath, still squeezing both Zane's hand and his neck. But finally, he let the asshole go, immediately pointing his finger. "If you fuck with her or any other lady again, I will not hesitate to hunt you down. Now, get the fuck out of here."

As the two companions pulled a choking Zane away, Zane seemed to be a glutton for punishment. He shifted from foot to foot, blood running from his nose. "Try it again, old man, and I'll kill you."

"Uh-huh. I'd like to see you try, buddy," Easton snarled.

Zane flicked me the bird as he stormed to the door. "Be careful, princess. You never know when the giant boogeyman will slip from the shadows to eat you alive." With that, he howled like some wolf before they walked out.

We both heard the few customers clapping and Ashleigh stepped forward. "Mister. I don't know who you are but anytime you'd like to drop in for coffee and a piece of pie, it'll be on the house. No one has ever stepped up to those bastards."

Easton softened but it took a full fifteen seconds. "They shouldn't be giving either one of you any more trouble."

"Would you like cherry or apple?" she pressed.

He threw me a look then tried to smile but I could tell he was still furious. "Cherry would be great."

"Comin' right up."

When Ashleigh was out of hearing distance, I folded my arms and confronted the man myself. "Why did you do that?"

"Because they were about to hurt you."

"Uh-huh. You know that how?"

"I know their type."

"Because you're that type?" I didn't mean for my statement to come out the harsh way it did but now, I couldn't take it back. An awkward silence settled between us. "I can take care of myself."

"Not against assholes like that." His insistence was both admirable and made me cringe inside. When he glanced toward the vase of flowers, I felt obligated to say something.

"Thank you for the flowers. They weren't necessary."

"I believe they were, Ms. Adams."

With that, he sidestepped me and all I could do was stare out the window, fretting as anxiety kicked in.

I had a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach, one that I doubted would go away any time soon. I only prayed my sudden savior hadn't egged the three assholes on to the point of retaliation.

Or worse.

Why did I have a feeling if Easton had, the three men would suddenly disappear?