“Do they want extra cheese?” he asks, and I grunt, because I always forget to ask the question.
Turning back to the old man and the girl, I open my mouth to inquire as to their cheesy preferences and freeze. The guy has his arm around the girl’s shoulders, way too close, way too personal.
Not her dad. Not his daughter.
Something dark flashes at the back of my mind, a trickle that turns into a gushing torrent, burying rational thought. I don’t see her face anymore. Dark eyes superimpose blue, dark hair flow over blond, and it’s Helen in the old man’s arms, fear marking her features.
Fuck. Muscles tensing in my back and legs, I take a step forward. My hands curl into fists.
“Jesse. Come here, fucker,” Zane calls.
My legs shake, and the face in front of me is going in and out of focus.
Christ. “What?” I grunt.
“Bring over the chili sauce, kiddo.”
I blink, lick my dry lips. It’s not Helen. I know that girl’s not Helen, so why does my brain keep seeing her? “Dylan has the sauce.” I point at the bottle. “Wait your turn like a good boy.”
“Dammit, Jesse, get your ass over here.”
Seriously? I owe him everything, but can’t he let up? Can’t he see I need a minute?
“And I mean now.” Zane leans on the counter, gripping it tight, as if about to vault over to get to me.
Yeah, obviously not. What the fuck does he want? Why now?
Slowly I turn toward him and lean on the counter so that we’re almost nose to nose. “Sorry, man, that’s all the fucking sauce we got. Take it up with the manager if you want.”
“Jesse!” Mel hollers from the back. “What the hell are you doing? Apologize to the man.”
I wince.
“It’s okay,” Zane hollers back. “I know him. No harm done.” Then to me he says, “Take a walk with me, J. A short one, I promise.”
Fuck you.
“Go on,” Mel says. “Take a break. Five minutes.”
Zane leads the way down the street to a bench. He offers me a cigarette and I take it. We light up and sit. The night is clear, though I can see no stars from where I’m standing. Too many lights from the city obscuring the sky, I guess.
Hiding in the light. I always thought that was some magical shit. I could see the stars from the boy camps I escaped from, and let me tell you, not even the beauty of the night sky out there in the wildness could make the camps pretty. I’ve never been able to associate the stars with anything good since then.
Good riddance.
The silence stretches for so long I start to get antsy. Zane is observing me over the glowing embers of his cigarette, his dark eyes narrowed to slits.
I swallow hard, choke on the smoke and cough. “Shit.”
“Something’s up with you,” Zane rumbles.
“Come on, Z-man.” I stick the cigarette back into my mouth and draw the smoke into my lungs, smothering the cough and forcing myself to take it, like everything else. “If you changed your mind about taking me in, then say it. I won’t take it personally.”
He lifts a brow at me. “You think I’m gonna ditch you?”
I shrug. “Who would blame you? I’m a pain in the ass.”
“Says who?”