The captain waves his hand dismissively. “Oh, some waitress. She was inside working when it happened. So, no harm, no foul!”
“Which one was it? This is the last time I’ll ask anyone what happened.” My temper is growing to a boiling point.
He sighs before turning to one of the detectives. “What was the name of the waitress again?”
The detective looks over. “Loretta Wagner, sir.”
Her name slices through the night like a hot knife through butter. I don’t give any of these dumb fuckers a second look before turning to march inside the diner to find the woman that has stolen my every thought since the day I drove away from her house two weeks ago.
Nine
Loretta
I’m doing everything that I can to fight back the tears that are dueling to escape their prison. For the first five minutes I am winning the fight, the second five minutes I lose a couple of tears. By the thirty-minute mark, the tears are slowly making their way down my cheeks. Someone has written “whore” on the side of my car and then set it on fire. The cops are saying it’s random, but my gut is telling me I should be scared. I set the last food order down on its table when two things happen all at once.
The dam on my emotions is obliterated, and Satan himself slams through the door so hard that it nearly comes off its hinges. Everyone in the building jumps at the sudden noise. He looks around the room, seeming to search for something or someone. Maybe I am just like my momma and losing my mind to think that he is looking for me. Hell, the fact that Iwanthim to be looking for me is a sign in itself that I’ve lost it.
I’ve met this man a total of two times, and here I am, wanting him to hold me and tell me that everything is going to be okay. That I’m not losing my mind.
When his gaze lands on me, he starts at my feet, slowly scanning up my body. My body instantly responds to the fire I see burning in his eyes. He finally makes it to my tear-stained face, and the fire turns molten. Without a word, he opens his arms as he starts toward me. His first steps break me out of my frozen state, andI’m nearly sprinting across the room to him. I slam into his chest, and his enormous arms wrap around me, with one hand holding the back of my head. Saying nothing, I just finally let go of everything I’ve been trying to hold together for the last half hour or so.
He leans down, speaking in a low rumble. “It’s going to be okay, my Blood Rose. Don’t you worry about anything. I’ll find out who did this and why.”
I just shake my head as much as I can with his hold on my head and grip onto him tighter. We stand there in silence for a long time until someone clears their throat to my left. Vito loosens his hold on my head so I can look over at who it is.
Lotty is standing there with a shit-eating grin on her face. “Vito, my boy! I’m glad to see you’ve got my girls back. Take her on home and make sure everything is well. We’re all good here.”
I open my mouth to protest, but she gives me a sharp look before swatting me with the towel in hand.
Vito cups my cheek, rubbing his thumb back and forth. “I need to know you’re okay. Let me do this.”
Officer Jackson's words come back to me, and I take a step back from him, shaking my head. Vito’s face darkens at my dismissal, and unlike my stepfather, the guards at the prison, and Alan, I don’t feel scared or like something isn’t right. Don’t get it twisted, I know he could hurt, maybe even kill, me if he chose to, but I know deep down that he never would. Even so, I can’t risk going back to prison. I take a step back, breaking out of his hold.
“Loretta, what are you doing?” he asks, confusion written all over his face as his hand falls away from my face.
“I can’t go with you,” I state quietly but firmly.
“Why not? I’m just going to take you home,” Vito questions, still not looking happy.
“Thank you for offering to do that.” I use my apron to wipe the tears that are still running down my face. “But it wouldn’t be good for either of us if I let you take me home.”
Vito follows my retreating steps, reaching out to cup both sides of my face so I can’t look away from him. “I just want to make sure that you are safe and taken care of like I’ve been doing. Just let me keep doing that.”
His words make little sense to me. “What do you mean, like you have been doing? I just met you a few weeks ago, Vito.”
I try my damnedest to work through when or if I could have seen or met this man, but he is not one to be forgotten. A memory comes to mind once again of the night my stepfather was killed. The Shadow Man stood in the corner of my room, not saying anything but watching me. I remember telling him he was in the wrong room before rolling over and going back to sleep. The memory is one I’ve played over and over in my mind, trying to find a way to learn the identity of the man so I could exonerate myself, but if he was the Shadow Man, why would I feel as if I knew him?
I make a decision right there to ask the question. “Was it you?”
Vito’s brows furrow. “What do you mean? Are you okay?”
“That night in my room. The night that everything went to shit. It was you, wasn’t it?” I know I’m screaming about this in the middle of the diner right now, though I don’t give a damn,I need to know.
Shock, frustration, and even a little fear flash across his face before he speaks. “Loretta, this is not the time nor the placefor us to have this conversation. Why don’t you let me take you home, and I’ll answer whatever questions you might have?”
“I will not go anywhere with you.” I throw my hands up. “I let two conversations convince me that maybe you were a decent guy. My judge of character and picker are just as broken as my mother's.”
“Loretta, you’re making a scene. We can and will discuss this anywhere but standing in the middle of some fucking diner. Now get your things and let me take you home,” Vito demands as if I’m a child that’s throwing a tantrum.
