Devereaux, I’m not interested in—”
“No, you’re right.” He raised a hand to cut her off. “Too fast. I didn’t mean to be pushy.” He nodded toward the order pad still in her hand. “But please consider coming tonight. For your safety’s sake.” As he backed toward the door, he threw in a parting shot he knew was pure manipulation. But he didn’t care. “Do it for your kids if not yourself.”
Annie needed to learn to protect herself, to stand up to bullies like Hardin, to revive the spark her abuser had extinguished. Jonah wasn’t above a little manipulation if it motivated her to make changes in her life.
The truth was, Annie had been the delivery person when a two-hundred-thousand-dollar transfer of funds was stolen. Had the thief intended to kill her to keep her quiet, stop her from identifying him? Would the party who’d expected the cash seek retribution? Could Hardin become more desperate and, therefore, more dangerous?
No matter how he looked at this turn of events, Jonah didn’t like the crosshairs Annie had found herself in after last night. She needed more than just a few self-defense techniques if someone tried to keep her from talking. But his lessons would be a start.
Meanwhile, he’d be extra vigilant. Annie needed someone with his experience and training to watch her back.
Annie surveyed the last few diners who’d come in for a late meal, then faced Lydia, who was working the last shift. “Can you handle things if I go now?”
“Sure thing, honey. I got it covered.” The older waitress smiled and jerked her head toward the door. “Get on home to those babies and give ’em a kiss for me, too.”
“Thanks, Lydia.” Annie untied her apron and stashed it under the counter. Grabbing her purse, she headed back to the kitchen, walking with careful penguinlike steps to avoid slipping on the greasy film that had accumulated on the floor through the day. As she neared Mr. Hardin’s office, she heard his raised voice, and her heart beat a little harder.
“That’s not enough time! I said I’d get it to you!” he ranted.
As Annie tiptoed past his half-open door to clock out, she caught her reflection on the stainless-steel side of the industrial freezer. The image rubbed a raw nerve.
How many times had she cowered around Walt, tiptoeing through their house in order not to wake him, or quietly keeping a discreet distance to avoid triggering one of his tantrums?
She’d thought her days of treading lightly around hostile men were past, yet here she was skulking past Hardin’s office like a guilty child. Frustration and self-censure stabbed Annie.
She’d come too far and paid too high of a price to be free of Walt to fall back into old habits now. Habits born from fear.
Damn it, she didn’t want to live in fear anymore! Annie jammed her time card in the clock so hard it crumpled in the middle. Spinning on her heel to leave, she marched back by Hardin’s office, her chin up and her back straight.
“Annie!”
She froze, dread slowing her pulse and snagging her breath.
Please, Lord, not another errand like last night.
Heart thumping, she turned toward Hardin’s office and stepped to the door. “Yes?”
“Where do you think you’re goin’?” he asked around a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. His eyes mirrored the same dark resentment she heard in his tone.
“My shift is over. I was going home.”
“Not if I say you don’t.”
A rock lodged in Annie’s stomach. She dragged in a smoke-laced lungful of air, trying to steel her nerves and battle down the building panic.
And anger—the most dangerous of emotions.
Dealing with the repercussions of Walt’s rage had been enough to teach her just how dangerous. But her own temper had led her to say foolish things at times that had only inflamed Walt’s wrath. Fury over Walt’s unfairness and controlling nature had seethed in her gut like a corrosive waste until she would throw up, so she’d long ago learned to suppress her temper, swallow the bile and deny the heat of anger that flashed through her blood.
Yet despite her best efforts to erase her ill-will and moments of irritation, she still carried a boatload of frustration and ire for the desperate circumstances of her life. She blamed Walt’s abuse and her submission to his violence for the dark cloud his threats still cast over her. Now Hardin was doing his best to intimidate and control her, and she struggled to keep the poisonous emotion at bay.
“My shift is over, Mr. Hardin. I need to get home to my children.” Her voice quivered with anxiety and barely suppressed indignation. She curled her fingers into her palms, and the pulse of rising adrenaline throbbed in her temples.
Her boss narrowed his eyes and stabbed out his cigarette in the overflowing ashtray on his desk. “Seems to me there’s a matter of two hundred thousand dollars you either have to pay back or work off.”
The flutter of fear taunted her, beating hard against her breastbone.
“Mr. H-Hardin, I could never work enough hours to repay—”
“Well, if you ain’t going to work the extra hours, then maybe you could settle your debt with me…another way.” Surging to his feet, he raked a lascivious gaze over her and smirked.
Annie fell back a step. Disgust slithered over her, and she shivered. Taking a slow breath, she searched for enough confidence to reply without her voice quaking. “No.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, and his gaze continued to roam over her.
“I’ll find a way to repay the money,” she said, though the words were sour knots in her throat that she had to force out. “It will take me a while—” Like forever. She cringed at the thought of tightening her budget even further and scraping together small payments for Hardin. “But I’ll find a way.”
A muscle twitched in Hardin’s jaw, and his flinty eyes drilled into her. “I want the money by next week.”
The ice in his tone, his stare sent a deep chill slicing through her. Trembling to her marrow, Annie whirled away and hurried toward the dining room. Her feet slipped and skidded on the greasy kitchen tile, but she didn’t slow down. She had to get away from Hardin. Get out of the diner. Get home to her children—the only place she felt even remotely safe anymore.
“I can show you how to defend yourself, protect yourself.”
As she rushed out of the diner, Jonah’s promise filtered through her head. Her steps slowed, and she reached into her pocket for the scrap of paper he’d given her with his gym’s address.
If only—
Forget if only. Dreams and wishes were for other people. She had to deal in reality. In truths and concrete facts.
Her truth was she had to pay her hostile boss a hell of a lot of money.
Picking up her pace again, she jogged to the bus stop, still quaking from Hardin’s chilling threat. No way could she find two hundred thousand dollars to repay him, even if she had a year to pay him. Much less a week.
Her bus rumbled up to the stop just as she reached the street corner. While she waited for an older man with a walker to board, she fished in her pocket for her bus pass.
Once more her fingers brushed the crumpled paper Jonah had given her.
“Do it for your kids if not yourself.”
Guilt and fear squeezed her chest, tangling with irritation over Jonah’s obvious manipulation of her love for her kids. She stared down at the address. What could it hurt just to go and see what Jonah wanted to teach her? He’d already proven he wanted to help, not harm her. And a gym was