She was going to have to buy an alarm clock. A cheap one, so that it wouldn’t matter when she threw it across the room. She never liked waking to an alarm, but that morning the noise from her cell reminded her of a demonic foghorn, perhaps calling home whatever asshole had been following her last night. After finally calming herself down enough to work the late shift the night before, she’d fallen into bed exhausted, and then lain there even later, tossing and turning. It felt like her eyes had barely drifted shut when Satan’s alarm clock went off that morning. Why had she set it so damn early? Oh, that’s right. Chico had her on the breakfast shift that day, because heaven forbid that he organize shifts like a sane person. Why wasn’t there some kind of law requiring a minimum amount of time off between shifts? Then again, there were definitely laws against paying her cash in hand, so perhaps she should quit while she was ahead.

Sienna shivered through her shower—who the hell was using all the hot water this early in the day?—and then threw on one of her new outfits. At least the trip hadn’t been a total waste. It would have been a real shame if she’d nearly gotten killed and didn’t have anything to show for it. She rolled her eyes. Lack of sleep was making her snippy. Cowboy better hope that he didn’t show up for breakfast today.

As she was stepping out of her motel room, a whole new round of shivers hit her. It might be the desert, but the sun wasn’t up yet. Crap—it was freezing outside! She moved quickly to the restaurant, wishing she’d thought to buy something warmer that would still work with her new outfit. Pushing open the door, she nearly bumped into Chico at the entrance.

He looked up and smiled at her. “Well, don’t you look nice.”

“It’s pants and a white T-shirt.”

Yep, apparently still snippy.

He chuckled and blew her a kiss, which she ignored on purpose as she went into the kitchen to grab her apron. The part-time cook nodded at her and then went back to cleaning the griddle. It got crazy busy at the restaurant early in the day, before the truckers left with their loads and the locals started their day. Working out on the floor was bad enough. If Chico ever asked her to work in the kitchen, she’d have to remember to refuse.

The place filled up quickly, sending her running between tables. If there was one thing she was determined to do after last night, it was to earn enough tips to be able to disappear for good if need be. She managed to fulfill everyone’s requests that morning—the sensible and the downright idiotic—without dropping anything, or “accidentally” spilling something on an annoying customer. She was going to consider that a win. Besides, no one could possibly be as irritating as Cowboy. She was over playing his games. She’d offer him service with a smile, and that was it. She wasn’t going to flirt with him, or humor any extra requests. He and Chico would just have to deal with it.

Speaking of Chico, her boss seemed happy to watch her scurry back and forth that morning, grinning and even winking at her when she nearly lost her cool. When he called out “Looking good!” as she walked into the kitchen with an armful of dirty plates, she startled at the shout, dropped the top plate, and smeared gravy all down her front. She picked up the nearest napkin and threw it at him. The salt and pepper shakers were going to be next if he kept that up. She looked vaguely menacing, or so she hoped. Chico just laughed. “I like a woman who knows how to wrestle in the kitchen.”

“Yeah?” She refused to let herself smile. Crazy old man. “Just don’t ever do that again, Chico.”

He just laughed and shooed her out of the kitchen, entirely unfazed by her display. “I have to go deal with next week’s orders. Play nice.” He gave her a salute and headed to his office at the back, leaving her alone with the cook for the rest of her shift. She barely had time to come up with a reply to match her mood when the order up bell had her scurrying again. God, this was the last time she was doing opening and closing shifts back to back! The customers at least seemed to be on their best behavior, and she quickly lost herself in the back and forth rhythm. She stepped between the tables, filling up water glasses, returned to the kitchen for an order, then repeated it over again, until it became almost a mindless exercise.

Her mind wandered and as she worked, Sienna lost herself in memories of her childhood, where at the end of a busy day she’d lie on the couch with her head in her mother’s lap. There was a show about psychics she loved to watch. Her mother told her that it was all made up, but Sienna loved to dream about a world where people had magical powers. One night, a man on the show had used a stick shaped like a “Y”—he called it a divining rod—to find an audience member’s car in the massive parking lot outside the studio.

Sienna had asked her mother how such a thing was possible, but Maggie had just sighed loudly and turned off the TV. She ran her fingers through Sienna’s hair and told her it was time for bed. Sienna wasn’t having it. She wanted to know how the magic worked. She had stomped her foot and refused to go to bed until her mother had given in. At the time, all it had been was the confirmation of a child’s imagination, but now Sienna wondered if there hadn’t been something more in her mom’s response. Sienna remembered exactly what Maggie had told her. “Yes, it’s possible, but not like that. Those people on the TV are just doing it to show off, for the money. People with real powers never act like that. Some may be able to find water or gold, others use cards with special pictures on them to see what has already happened, and what might be. There’s even people somewhere out there who can move things or start fires. They are all extraordinary, but they never come out and tell people. If anyone does that to you, my gorgeous girl, then they are lying.”

Hunched over the dishwasher in the kitchen, the memory came flooding back to Sienna, as if it had happened only moments ago. It had meant little then, a childhood fantasy, but after last night in the car . . . what if her mother had been telling her the real truth all along?

God. She was losing it. Daydreaming about psychics and murderers while her entire body was covered in the grime of yet another shift. She had food and dirt buried under her fingernails, and the smell of cooking oil wouldn’t leave her nose. There was no point daydreaming in the middle of the shift. Childhood stories or warnings, it didn’t matter. Her mom had still been murdered and she still had absolutely no idea who’d done it. If there were some super humans out there with psychic powers, then all it would do would be to make the entire shit show even worse. She had no idea what had happened the night before, and she wasn’t going to figure it out while customers were waving glasses for soda refills and screaming for ranch dressing. It was going to have to wait.

She ducked into the restroom to gather her thoughts and splash a handful of cool water on her face to force herself back to the present. As she walked back out into the lobby, a girl with blonde hair and a wary stare caught her eye. She was sitting at a table near the door, but when Sienna rounded the corner and faced the table head-on, the girl was gone. Fuck, she was seeing things. She didn’t think she was insane, but then, that was usually the point. Crazy people don’t know they’re crazy. She barked out a harsh laugh. This was nuts. It had to be stress. There couldn’t be anything else going on. Could there? Maybe she really had lost her mind. Maybe she’d been there the whole time and she’d blacked out when her mom was attacked. Anything was fucking possible at this point.

She looked up at the clock. One hour until her shift ended. She was putting all this out of her mind until then, but the moment the clocked ticked over, all bets were off. She had to figure this out before she drove herself crazy.

After handing the last of her customers their bills, Sienna started scrubbing down tables to keep her head clear. She was just about done when a trucker walked in and took a booth near the back. The man was large, dressed in a dark-blue wife-beater covered with a stained shirt. His hair was a mess and the look on his face was about as welcoming as if this were his first stop in three days. It probably was. She’d serve him quickly and leave him in peace before he could get shitty with her, too.

“Hello. My name is Sienna and I’ll be your server.”

“Damn.” His eyes roved over her, stopping in all the wrong places. Sienna rolled her eyes. When was she going to get a damn break?

“Can I get you a drink?”

“Coke, Darlin’. Work here long?”

She ignored the question and hot-footed it back to the kitchen. His eyes followed her as she walked across the room and Sienna found herself wishing that Chico wasn’t still in the back. He’d know if the guy was a perv. As she walked to the drinks station to get the order, she saw the cowboy walk through the door. He settled in a booth at the back. She ignored him. He was clearly going to be a staple in the place, if only because he knew she hated him. He caught her looking and tipped his hat at her, grinning. They were waging a silent war. He was going to be waiting an awful long time for service, because he was going to have to wait until the next shift started if he kept that up.

Walking back to the trucker’s table, she deliberately took the long way around, avoiding swinging past Cowboy’s table. She could do this all day. Besides, she was beginning to think whoever killed her mom wasn’t entirely done yet. Sienna suppressed a shiver. She’d had a small taste on the road the night before. Even if the cowboy was innocent, the last thing she needed was anyone else knowing anything about her. She was already halfway to the mental institution, and worrying about whether shadows were going to jump out at her would just send her all the way. People could be paid off, or just get drunk and get chatty. Right now, anyone in her life was unnecessary baggage at best, and at worst the reason she’d be killed in her sleep. She handed the trucker his drink, trying not to notice the way he looked down her shirt when she set it on the table. “Have you decided what you want to order?” His menu sat shut on the table. Had he even opened it, or had he been staring at her the entire time?

“I’ll get a sirloin with macaroni cheese, and a baked potato.”

She didn’t stick around to be ogled again, spinning around to head back to the kitchen. “That’ll be right out.” As she stalked through the maze of chairs and tables, the cowboy cleared his throat.

“Excuse me.”

She didn’t respond.

“Miss?”

Sienna didn’t even turn around. Instead, she put the ticket up and called out the trucker’s order for the cook, then moved onto getting the silverware ready for the next rush. The truck stop was almost full, and so the dinner rush would be even crazier. Maybe the day shift had been a blessing in disguise. After that, she moved into the kitchen and started to load the dishwasher. The cook gave her a weird look, but she ignored him, too. Looks like it was going to be the theme of her stay here—keep her head down, don’t talk to anyone, and don’t get killed.

“Order up!” Having no choice but to return to the dining area, Sienna grabbed the order. When she stepped past the table, Cowboy spoke again.

“You can’t ignore me all day.”

“Watch me. I have the right to refuse service t—”

His grin reappeared as he meandered behind her, following her to the trucker’s table. “I’m pretty sure I’m not drunk, and I’m not harassing anyone.”

“It’s only a matter of time.” Sienna turned to give him a piece of her mind, and her foot caught on the leg of a chair that had been left pulled out. She hit the floor. The plate had other ideas.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”

From her position on the floor, Sienna caught a glimpse of a very angry, macaroni-and–cheese-covered trucker.

She jumped to her feet. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you fucking stupid? You dumb slut. Too busy talking to muscles here to bother to serve me, huh? Count yourself lucky all you’re going to have to do is buy me a new shirt.”

Her mom had always said she had a temper. That was one thing she was definitely right on. Sienna stood her ground. “Are you kidding? That thing should have been thrown out years ago.”

The man leaned forward and she forced herself to remain still. He wasn’t built like the cowboy, but he was a big man. Maybe she should just offer him the money for a shirt.

Out of what funds, Idiot?

Without dipping into her emergency fund she’d taken from the safe, she barely had enough spare for a soda from the convenience store at the stop. The only decent money she’d received so far was Cowboy’s tip, and that had gone straight into her rent fund.

The tip of the trucker’s tongue darted out and he took another step toward her. “I don’t care how you pay me,” he said. He moved like a snake, coiling toward her. “But you do have to pay me.” He took a step further and Sienna faltered, stepping back.

Can’t even stand your ground against a perv? What’s going to happen when the murderer finds you?

When his arm went around her waist, Sienna’s temper returned. She stomped down on his foot and shoved at his chest, pushing his bulk back against the table so hard it rattled. She grinned, but Trucker Man moved faster than she thought he should, grabbing her by the arm and trying to pull her toward him. Sienna tugged at her arm, but couldn’t free herself. She was about to try to push him again with her free hand when suddenly the pressure released and she had to grab onto a chair to keep herself from tumbling to the ground again. She turned, her hand flying to her open mouth.

“Now, you can either be served as a pulled pork sandwich, or you can walk out of the fucking restaurant right now and leave the lady alone.” The casual tone of Cowboy’s voice didn’t match the gun currently pointed at the trucker’s chest. Trucker didn’t move, his eyes flicking between her and the gun. Cowboy cocked a single eyebrow. “You have two seconds.” The trucker’s eyes widened and Cowboy stepped aside, letting the man barrel past and out of the room.

Sienna collapsed into the chair she’d nearly fallen over, her breath leaving her now that the immediate danger was gone.

“You’re welcome.”

Was he kidding? Cowboy pulled up the chair next to her. “Oh, come on. You have to admit, that was an amazing performance. Even I thought I might kill him.”

She glared at him. “Do you honestly think that I’m going to get down on my knees just because you saved me?”

He grinned again. “Oh, you’ll get down on your knees, Baby, but not because I saved you and not today. One day, it’ll happen because you want to. I mean”—he waved his hand up and down over his body—“who could resist this?”

Sienna rolled her eyes. “I’m still not getting you any food.”

He chuckled. “Now that, I can’t abide. You know what I have in my refrigerator? One hamburger patty and half a bag of broccoli that’s definitely seen better days. It’s almost an hour to the nearest grocery store.” He clasped his hands in front of him, begging. “Please don’t make me shop.”

She huffed, suppressing a grin. No way was the cocky asshole getting that out of her. Even if he did scare off an even bigger asshole. “You get one chicken strip, and it’s $59.99.”

“Does that include the tip?”

“No.”