Page 76 of Diners, Damsels & Wolves

“Take your time beating up inanimate objects, I’ll wait.”

She spun around. Tom stood there smirking at her. Heart hammering, her palms began to sweat, fear bubbled up in her breast. She didn’t want to have to do this now …

Leaning against the counter, he pulled something from his pocket. It looked like a brochure.

“There’s an art exhibit over in Lawrence I thought you’d enjoy, ‘Life in Graphite,’ it’s not too far of a drive, I would like to take you. What time are you off work today?”

Pursing her lips, she squared her shoulders. If she’d eaten anything today, she thought she’d have chucked it all over the counter at the memory of that ghastly picnic. She wasn’t cut out for that type of life. “Can we talk … outside?”

His face fell, but he nodded. Going around the counter, she went to the front door, he held it open for her. She wished he wouldn’t.

“Is it the drive? Are you worried about leaving Rachel alone for so long?” he asked. “I thought the home nurse was working out for you.”

She was brought up short. “I don’t recall ever telling you about that. How did you know?”

He clamped his mouth shut. A horrible thought came to her mind. What if it wasn’t Sheriff Greg who’d hired the help? It was Thomas. He’d gotten his mafia hooks in her without her even realizing it. Not only that, but Rachel was at risk too. Sure, his ‘family’ was generous with them now, but if something happened and the tides turned, they were both vulnerable, especially Rachel. She couldn’t let that happen.

This new realization solidified her decision. She knew what needed to be done, no matter how much it was going to hurt.

“Tom,” she said in a forced calm, “I think I need some space.”

She braced herself for anger that didn’t come. Instead, his face looked positively shattered, then it was gone. A neutral mask stared down at her.

“What happened?” he asked.

“I just, I realized some things, and I need some time to think them over.” Damn it, why did she have to sound so indecisive?

“Was it the picnic? Did someone say something to you?”

There it was. A flash of anger lit up his eyes. She recoiled.

“No. Yes. It wasn’t anything specific. I just …” She searched for the right words, any words that were not ‘mafia’ or ‘crime family.’ She was too terrified to outright accuse him of it. Terrified and betrayed. “I don’t feel comfortable being involved with your family. I won’t say anything, I swear. I just need space to process if this is something I’m comfortable continuing.

“I’m sorry, Thomas, I don’t want to hurt you. I just, I didn’t feel safe yesterday being around so many …” Letting her voice trail off, she really didn’t want to have to say the word aloud.

“I see.” His jaw locked, his posture rigid.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“No, I’m sorry you had to find out that way. I was going to explain it all to you.” His fist clenched, crushing the brochure before letting it drop to the ground. “Well, that doesn’t matter anymore.”

Stalking past her, he got into his car and slammed the door.

Hands curled into fists, she marched into the diner and beelined for the coffee maker, it still hadn’t started. She hit it.

When nothing happened, she smacked it again. And again and again, until she brought her fist down on the top of it.

“Clarissa, darling.” Eugene’s voice sounded from behind her. “Is everything alright?”

“No, the coffee maker’s not working.” Her voice was a wreck. When had she started crying?

“It’s okay, no one needs coffee right now,” Jeff said.

“It’s not right,” she said. “It can’t do this to me. It isn’t fair.”

Something heavy fell onto her shoulder. With a start, she saw Adam standing next to her, looking stern.

“The coffee maker’s a piece of shit,” he said. “Want me to kick its ass?”