Haley ran the back of her hand across her forehead, pushed a hank of hair out of her face, then placed the pitcher of beer on the tray next to the other drinks and empty glasses.

Megan offered her an absent smile as they slid past each other, each of them too busy to do more than that. They were short-handed again because Debbie was still out with the flu. It wouldn't have normally been a problem, not on a Thursday night, but one of the local softball teams decided to have their preseason meeting here. Haley wasn't sure what the hell was involved in a softball meeting because it didn't look like they were doing much more than drinking and eating and drinking some more. She didn't care, as long as they tipped her well.

She delivered the drinks then moved to another table with two couples, taking their order with an apologetic smile. She had to fight to keep the smile in place when one of the women started asking a million questions about the menu.

Was it low fat?

How many carbs did each dish have?

Was it gluten free?

What vegan choices did they have?

Haley wanted to scream at her and tell her it was a bar, for crying out loud. Just a bar, serving deliciously fried and wonderfully fat foods, complete with carbs, gluten, and animal products. She bit down on the inside of her cheek and kept the smile in place as she patiently explained what they had that might meet her requirements.

Salad. And more salad.

God help her.

She jotted down the order for salad—no cheese, with their lightest dressing served on the side, please—then took the four menus and hurried back to the bar to place their orders. Then she rushed through the back room and over to the restaurant to check on her last table over there.

Unlike the salad lady, they were moving on to the desserts—cake and pie and ice cream with lots of chocolate. Definitely more Haley's style, even if they looked like they weren't big tippers.

Then it was through the back room and out to the bar again to pick up the salad quartet's drinks. At least she was keeping busy. They all were. And staying busy meant the night would go by faster.

In theory, anyway. It wasn't exactly working that way in real life, not if the time had been right the last time she checked her watch. Not that it mattered, because she didn't have anywhere else to go except home once her shift was over.

Yeah, home. Where she could hide behind her locked door, ignore the text messages Jimmy kept sending her, and do her best not to think about Zach.

When the hell had her life become such a shit show? Maybe the better question was: when hadn't it been a shit show?

She grabbed the tray of drinks and headed toward the table, nearly bumping into a guest heading toward the bathrooms. Wouldn't that have been perfect? Just what she didn't need, not right now.

She stepped to the side, focusing on keeping the tray steady, and muttered an apology to the guest. A few seconds passed by before she realized the guy wasn't moving, that he was still standing there. Great. Now she had to give someone directions to the restroom, when all they had to do was look for the stupid sign hanging right behind her.

She plastered her working smile on her face and looked up, ready to point out the obvious, then froze in horror. Jimmy stood in front of her, his sculpted face wreathed in phony sorrow as he watched her through wide blue eyes framed in ridiculously long lashes.

She grabbed the tray with her other hand and stepped back, tried to tell herself she was seeing things. Jimmy was not standing right in front of her. He couldn't be.

He reached out and ran his hand along her arm, the touch just a little too hard. She took another step back and looked around, wondering if anyone else noticed them. Nobody was paying them any attention, they were too busy doing other things.

She took a deep breath and straightened her spine, not bothering to hide her frown. "What are you doing here?"

"I missed you. I wanted to see you."

"You wasted a trip. I don't want to see you. Now move." She tried to step around him but he blocked her, impatience flashing in his eyes. He blinked and the impatience was gone, replaced with a sincere expression of sadness.

Yeah, right. She knew better. "Jimmy, I'm busy. You need to leave."

"You can't take five minutes to talk to me?"

"No, I can't. I'm working."

"It can wait."

"What part of working don't you understand?"

"This is more important. We're more important."

"There is no we, Jimmy. I told you that already. Repeatedly. Go away." She tried to step around him again but he grabbed her arm to stop her. Fingers bit into the flesh of her upper arm and she tried to jerk away, wincing when he tightened his grip. "Get off me."

"Not until we talk." He leaned closer, anger flashing in the eyes she had once thought so striking and sexy and romantic. "We're not over, Haley. Not by a long shot."

Fear raked over. She wanted to step away, wanted to hit and rail and scream, but his grip was too tight, the expression in his eyes freezing her in place.

"Jimmy, please. You're hurting me." And oh God, was that pathetic little whine her voice? Why wasn't she moving? Why was she putting up with this, when she swore she wouldn't?

"This isn't hurting. You don't know anything about what it means to be hurt. Like I was hurt the other night, when I saw that guy go into your apartment. Who is he, Haley? Tell me."

And oh God, he had been to her apartment. He'd actually been watching her. She hadn't believed his text messages, had convinced herself he was only toying with her, trying to frighten her.

And she was frightened, more than she wanted to admit. She looked around, her frantic gaze searching for a helpful face, trying to catch someone's attention. But they were behind the bar, near the small hallway that led to the restrooms, out of obvious sight.

"Tell me, Haley. Who is he?" His voice was a low hiss, filled with anger and disgust. She swallowed, shook her head, searched for words that would calm him down. But no words came, which only angered him more. His fingers dug deeper into her arm and he shook her, the way a wild animal would shake a rag doll. Haley lost her grip on the tray and it fell, sending the drinks crashing to the floor. Glass shattered, the noise echoing around them.

"See what you've done?" Jimmy shook her again, his face darkening to a dangerous red. "See what you made me do? Why do you do that, Haley? Why do you make me—"

"Haley! Are you okay?" Megan pushed through the small serving door, her eyes never leaving Jimmy's as she hurried to Haley's side. Jimmy looked over at her, sneering, then turned back to Haley. He released her arm with a strong push, anger and disgust on his face.

"She's fine. We were just talking. Isn't that right, Haley?"

She opened her mouth, realized she was going to say yes, that she was going to agree with him. Anger washed over her. Anger at Jimmy. Anger at herself for letting him do what he'd done, for letting him get away with it. Again.

For letting him have so much control over her, for instilling so much fear in her that she was afraid to speak up.

"No. We weren't." Her voice was shaky, the words almost too soft to hear. She cleared her throat. "We weren't talking. I have nothing to say to you. It's over, Jimmy. It's been over. I never want to see you again."

Surprise flashed in his eyes, quickly replaced by a burning fury that made her take a step back. "It's not over. Not until I say it is."

He shot a withering look in Megan's direction then spun on his heel and walked away, never once looking back. Haley held her breath, watching as he disappeared around the bar, then sagged against the wall. She took a deep breath then offered Megan a forced smile.

"Sorry. I—I'll get this cleaned up. Can you grab some more drinks and—"

"What happened? What did he want?"

"Nothing. He, uh, he just wanted to say hi." She crouched down and started reaching for the broken pieces of glass, placing them on the serving tray. Her fingers shook so much that she had to reach for one large piece a second time and nearly cut her finger.

"Don't lie, Haley." Megan crouched next to her and helped with the glass. "What was he doing here?"

"I don't know."

"This isn't good, Haley. You need to talk to someone. Maybe my dad—"

"No. It's all good. Your dad doesn't need to know, okay? I can handle it."

"You didn't look like you were handling it to me." Megan took the tray from her then stood up, her gaze filled with worry. "He's dangerous, Haley. I don't trust him."

"It's fine. I'm fine. Okay? I told you, I can handle it. Just, please, don't tell your dad. Or Jason."

She expected Megan to drop it, to just agree with whatever she was saying and let it go. But she didn't, not this time. Her eyes narrowed just the slightest bit, her jaw clenching for a brief moment. Then she shook her head.

"Something needs to be done, Haley. You can't keep letting him get away with this. It's not right." She drew in a deep breath and let it out in a rush. "You aren't seeing him, right? You really did break up?"

The question hurt more than Haley wanted to admit. Megan doubted her? Of course she did. And why shouldn't she, when Haley had broken it off with Jimmy before, only to get back together again? Haley had no right to be upset, not when she'd brought it on herself.

That didn't lessen the hurt at all.

"No, I'm not seeing him. I broke it off the last time he—" Haley hesitated and glanced down at her arms. Would she have yet another bruise from Jimmy, from where he'd grabbed her and shook her? Probably.

She brushed it off and looked back at Megan. "I broke it off with him. I told you that."

"Then why was he here?"

"I don't know why. Just like I don't know why he's been texting me. He just showed up. Jimmy does what he wants to do."

"He's been texting you, too? When? Why?"

"I don't know why. It's not a big deal. I just ignore him and—"

"And then he shows up here?" Megan glanced around then stepped closer, lowering her voice. "You need to let me talk to my dad, maybe get a restraining order. He'll know—"

"No. Absolutely not. It's not like that. He's just—he does what he wants, you know? He doesn't mean anything by it."

"Why are you making excuses for him?"

"I'm not—"

"You are! Listen to yourself, Haley. It's just one excuse after the other. You need to stop. This isn't right. And you need to tell someone what's going on—someone who can help."

"No, absolutely not. Forget it. Just let me handle it."

"Haley—"

"I said, let me handle it." She grabbed the tray from Megan's hand and pushed through the service door. "I have to get back to work. And so do you."

Megan said something but it was too low for Haley to hear. That was for the best, because Haley was one hundred percent positive that she didn't want to hear it. Just like she didn't want Megan—or anyone else—meddling in her life.

She was a big girl. She could handle it.

She always did.