Valiant

“I’ve had enough. I’m working hard for this shit!” he barks, throwing his hands up.

“Rae,” I order. “Go to your room, don’t come out. Stop throwing sass, and just go to sleep.”

She scowls at me but does as she’s told and disappears into her room. York turns to me. “What did I just say about not interfering in my business?”

I don’t understand what’s happening. I’ve never seen this side to York before.

“Why are you screaming at her like that? You know she’s had a hard time, too. You know, so why would you make her suffer for it?”

He flinches. “She might have had a hard time, but she’s being a bitch lately. She’s using and abusing my hospitality. She has to grow up eventually. She can’t be out and about, whoring around ...”

“She’s fifteen, York!”

“Yeah, and at fifteen I was fucking working to keep us alive.”

I shake my head, horrified that he’s being so cold. So ... emotionless.

“I think you need to calm down—”

“Don’t you fuckin’ tell me to calm down,” he bellows, stepping forward and forcing my back against the wall. I stare up at him, fear lodged in my throat, my body stiff with it.

“York,” I whisper.

He shakes his head a few times and pushes off the wall. “Sorry,” he mutters. “Fuck. I’m going out.”

He turns and charges down the hall.

I watch him go then turn and stare at Rae’s door. She’s peering through it, her face blank, her eyes, though, oh, those eyes tell me that scared her as much as it scared me. She says nothing and closes the door quietly, leaving me alone in the hall.

Leaving me wondering what the hell has happened to my boyfriend.

Leaving me feeling damned afraid.

 

 

CHAPTER 4



NOW – BAYLEE



“Order up, Baylee!”

I spin on my heels and rush over, taking the two plates the chef slides towards me. I lift them and glance at the table number on the small slip of paper beneath them, then hurry towards the table. I place the meals down, smile my best smile, and keep moving. It’s busy in the little Italian restaurant tonight, and I’m run off my feet.

I worked all morning at the deli down the road then came straight to this job once my shift ended. By the time I’m done tonight, it’ll be well past ten, and I’ll have worked over fourteen hours straight. I’m exhausted and praying the tips tonight are good, because it’s getting harder and harder to feed Rae and her growing baby and food cravings.

The bell above the door jingles and I glance over to see who has entered. I’m also on door duty, because our usual girl, Theresa, is away so I’m doing two jobs tonight. I wipe my hands on my apron, pull it off quickly, and rush over to the counter by the door. I don’t look at the couple that has entered for a few moments as I check the books to see how we’re doing with seating.

“Well, well.”

I jerk and look up at the smooth, husky voice. I come face to face with the man from the bar the other night, and for a moment, I just stare at him.

“Are you stalking me?”

I press a hand over my mouth, horrified that those words left my mouth. He’s got a woman with him, a very attractive woman, and I just accused him of stalking me after having met him only once. His eyes dance with laughter, and I can see him fighting it back. Great. He thinks it’s funny. I’m mortified.

“Actually,” he says, voice smooth as silk, “I wasn’t. But if you’d like me to, that can be arranged—” his eyes dip to my name tag, and he grins “—Baylee.”

Jesus.

The man is smooth.

My eyes dart to the girl with him, and she’s giving me a less than pleased look. Probably because she thinks I’m hitting on her ... boyfriend? Surely he couldn’t be her boyfriend, because he’s openly flirting with me. If he was her boyfriend, she needs to do herself a favor and give him a swift kick in the ass, and then move onto the next guy. Pronto.

“Ah,” I say, clearing my throat. “Have you got a reservation?”

His eyes keep dancing with humor as he purrs, “Yeah. We do. Under Jack.”

Jack.

Such a simple, yet incredibly masculine name. It suits him. Really, really suits him.

“Okay,” I say, studying the names. They all seem to blur into one as I try to stop my hands from shaking.

Why does this man make me so nervous? I don’t even know him. Get it together, Baylee.

“I have you on table eight, if you’ll follow me.”

I pick up my pen and paper and take them down to the table in the far-left corner. It’s a booth. Cozy. I inwardly roll my eyes at the thought and step aside, putting on my best smile as they slide in.

“Can I get you a drink to start?”

Jack looks at me, and I swear, his eyes get lusty. The man is intense. The worst part? He knows it, and he uses it. Jerk. Pretty jerk.

“Yeah, give me a Jack and Coke,” he murmurs, eyes dropping to my lips before turning to his date, who he has clearly forgotten about. “You?”

She glares at me, then smiles sweetly at him. “Same as you, honey.”

Honey.

Gag.

“Coming right up,” I say, forcing another pathetic fake smile and turning on my heel, disappearing to pick up my apron again.

I can feel Jack’s eyes on me as I move around the restaurant. Occasionally, I glance at him, and he gives me a lazy half grin. God. He’s so bold. Shaking my head, I keep focused on my work. I head back over to their table when they’ve finished their meals and notice that the girl is no longer there. Great.

“How was your meal?” I say, picking up their plates.

“I don’t know, maybe next time you should try it with me and we can see.”

My eyes dart to him. “That’ll never happen.”

His brows go up. “Is that so?”

“Yes, it’s so. I’m not interested. At all.”

“Oh,” he murmurs, eyes twinkling. “You’re interested.”

“Firstly,” I snap, standing straight, “you’re on a date with another woman.”

“She’s a friend,” he points out, cutting me off.

“Friends don’t call each other honey,” I hiss under my breath.