Chapter 8-5

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Everyone was staring at me in my parents' restaurant. It was crowded that Friday night. My father, who, as usual, was preparing cocktails, couldn't hide the surprised look on his face when he addressed me.

"Are you sure you don't need help?" I asked.

"No," he said. "You've already worked hard today. Why don't you go home and rest? I assure you everything is fine here."

It was true. The days of working for Yeraz were more effective than a sleeping pill for falling asleep at night. My father paused and muttered through clenched teeth, "Fat John came by yesterday to get his damn money. I gave it to him this time without saying anything. He came with backup to make sure I didn't make a fuss like last time."

"Why didn't you call me? I told you I wanted to be there every time he came over. Dad, this has to stop!

Dull anger rumbled in my voice.

"No, I don't want to put you in danger. These people are capable of the worst. The mafia is the cancer of this city and no one can stop them."

"So we're forced to give them what they want all our lives? You're working your ass off for a bunch of thugs who are terrorizing Sheryl Valley."

My father, resigned, lowered his head.

"Yes, that's it."

He put the glasses on a tray and abruptly changed the subject.

"What happened to your glasses?"

"Nothing. I had to have the lenses corrected. The contacts lenses are just for now."

My father shrugged and said in a hesitant voice, "It suits you, I think. You look different like this. This Giovanni obviously has a good effect on you."

I tried to smile as naturally as possible, but my eyes proclaimed my hostility to the man. I turned my face to look at the customers in the room.

"I'll stay and eat here."

"Go help yourself to the buffet. You're home here."

My father nodded at a table a little further away.

Sitting, I finally took the time to breathe. I wanted to adjust my glasses, but my finger went directly into my eye.

"Ouch! Shit."

I wasn't used to this small change yet. I took a forkful of my appetizer, but it hung in front of my mouth as the chair in front of me was slowly pulled out. Yeraz sat down as if everything was normal. As usual, his dark eyes had a stern, joyless expression. I looked left and right before putting my fork down.

"What the hell are you doing here? It's not Saturday yet!"

"So what?"

He tilted his head with a comical expression on his face. The sound of his voice was monotonous, exasperating, and terrifying at the same time. In the restaurant, everyone was staring at us.

"Yeraz, could you just for once leave me alone?"

"Sure, Ronney. When you quit."

He started to look around and then his eyes softened. He leaned toward me. I looked away from him to avoid looking at his square jaw and emaciated features.

"This day made me hungry, too. Shall we share?"

"No! Go help yourself to the buffet like everyone else. My workday is over. I'm not at your service anymore."

"When are you, Miss Jimenez? I feel more like I have a probation officer on my hands than anything else."

I didn't answer and continued to eat, but without appetite.

"I had never noticed the color of your eyes until now."

I looked into his eyes. For the first time, his tone of voice wasn't condescending or unpleasant. I blushed and looked down at my plate. He got up, probably to go get his own food. My phone vibrated in my pocket. I waited until Yeraz was far enough away to check the text. It was from Caleb. My heart began to race and my breathing stopped. I had just entered a state of intense stress and excitement. I hesitated to open it, but my curiosity won out.

"It's Carolina's birthday soon. I know I have no right to ask you this after what I did to you, but I don't know what to get her. Could you give me an idea, please? Thank you."

I put a hand on my mouth to stifle a small cry of pain. How could he dare to send me such a text? In shock and with my head buzzing, I stared at my phone's screen, unable to put it away. I had become a good friend to him.

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