20
Savannah
I woke to a blaring alarm. Head throbbing from seven different angles, I rolled over to shut off my alarm—but it wasn’t my phone.
“Make it stop,” I groaned.
“Rise and shine. It’s ten a.m., and you’ve got to get ready for work,” Sam chirped as she came into the room and switched off a bedside clock.
I pulled the sheets around me and sat up. “What?”
The blonde vixen smiled cruelly at me, or at least smiling seemed cruel that early in the morning. “Jaxson assigned you to the lunch rush, waiting tables. So you’d better get up and get going.”
I flopped back into bed and rolled over. “No way. I have a headache that extends to my knees, there’s a possessed lunatic trying to kill me, and I’ve fucked up most of my life.”
She grunted. “Jax said you’d probably protest, so he took your keys and picked up your car from the Rift. If you want them back, you’d better get over to Eclipse.”
I bolted upright, not caring if Sam saw me naked. I was ready for blood. “That bastard!”
“Yup!” She tossed me a waitress outfit, which I caught out of instinct. “Better get going.”
Sam, my cruel taskmaster, marched me into the shower, fed me a frozen burrito, and then physically hauled me to Eclipse.
Unfortunately, my hangover came along for the ride. Why wasn’t my werewolf healing kicking in?
Well, you did have whiskey on top of a full bottle of tequila, Wolfie remarked.
I groaned as my stomach did somersaults. Somewhat more unfortunately, Sam’s proposed cure was a beer with clamato and a raw egg.
She handed the vile concoction over. “This is a redeye. Drink up. Your shift begins in five minutes.”
The fizzy, tomatoey, eggy concoction was just as bad as I’d imagined, though frankly, a lot better than anything Uncle Pete had ever brewed.
As soon as I drained the red drink from the highball glass, I groaned again, regretted every tequila shot I’d ever drunk in my life, and raced to study the menu.
The lunch rush was more of a feral stampede.
Once, before my existence had turned into a perverse nightmare, I’d eaten the most fabulous meal of my life at Eclipse. I could still practically taste it: bacon-topped figs, charred brussels sprouts, and endive cups filled with some kind of cheese and herbs.
Suddenly, all those exotic dishes I’d enjoyed were flying at me like a hail of bullets.
“Don’t these people have jobs they have to be at?” I screamed at Sam as I grabbed a couple of martinis from the bar. “How do this many people have time for lunch?”
“We have a two-week waitlist!” she shouted back as I dodged another server.
And I thought bartending had been wild.
My beleaguered brain had to race at top speed to master a new menu and handle my section. Thankfully, other servers whirled around me, helping me fix orders and make salads. I had no idea how they kept on top of me as well as their own work.
Everything moved three times faster than it did at the old Lakeside Taphouse up in Wisconsin. I’d been a pro there, but at Eclipse, I suddenly found that I was once again at the bottom of the food chain. And everyone belonged to the pack, so they all knew exactly who I was.
I was red in the face from wheezing and embarrassment the whole shift. At least I had my Swiftley speed boots to get me back and forth fast enough to fix orders when I screwed them up.
By the time my shift ended at three, my mind and body were mostly broken. I staggered out the back door and leaned against the wall, breathing hard. Once, Jaxson had slipped me through that same door to hide me from the pack, worried how they’d react to a LaSalle.
Now, they were the only reason I’d survived the shift.
Funny how things change.
After a couple of minutes of staring at the sky, waiting for the world to slow down, the door opened. I didn’t even have to look over; I knew him by his scent.
“Jaxson, you’re a merciless bastard,” I growled.
He chuckled. “I hear you did extremely well.”
I scoffed and glared at him. “I was a disaster.”
“A beautiful disaster,” he purred, which set my nerve endings alight. He was so handsome in his suit. I was, by contrast, sweating through my shirt with my hair all knotted up and tangled. I probably had five pens hidden in there.
It was absolutely infuriating.
“I did your dirty work,” I groaned. “Now give me my keys back.”
He pulled them out and spun them on his finger. “I think not. I like having you where I can keep my eyes on you.”
“What? Are you worried I’m going to go crawling back to my aunt? Not after what happened. Not after what she did to me.” I spun on him, tears of frustration verging in my eyes. “I don’t have anything, Jaxson, and nowhere to go, so you don’t have to worry. I just want the freedom to leave.”