Chapter Seventeen
The next morning, I made breakfast when everyone got up and had the house spotless since no one bothered to clean up after the party. While they partied, I'd stayed in my room and refused to answer the door when both Rey and my brother knocked.
Once Dom joined us and all three of them were settled around the table, I started my little tirade.
"I hope you enjoy the breakfast, guys, because I won't be doing it again."
All three of them turned to look at me. "What?" my brother said.
"Just because I have a vagina doesn't mean I'm going to be your maid. You'll start cleaning up after yourselves, cooking your own meals, and yes, doing your own disgusting laundry. You don't know how easy you had it with Michelle here but you're about to find out."
"Elina..." my brother tried to protest.
"Don't even start. I'm not going to be here often enough to play den mom anyway."
"Wait, where are you..."
"I got a job." I smiled.
"When?"
"Last night while you were boozing it up. I called Irvine and asked for my old waitressing position back. I start today..." I looked at the clock on the microwave, "in two hours so make sure to rinse off your plates when you're done."
"Wait, how are you getting there? Your car..."
"It's called public transit, Vin. But if you feel like being nice, I would appreciate my car back. As it is, if I don't get a move on, I'm going to miss my bus so if you'd excuse me." I walked out of the kitchen feeling like I got my backbone back.
"What the fuck just happened?" I heard my brother exclaim.
*
"Can you move back permanently?" Irvine joked. "I missed you around here."
I smiled and slid into the booth seat across from him. Irvine was your typical diner owner except he was nicer. He was big, he was fat, he had a receding hair line, five o'clock shadow times two, and just about as many tattoos as my brother. The diner had closed an hour before and I'd just spent the last sixty minutes giving the place a scrub down. Before I left, the tables weren't greasy, all the napkin holders were full, and no one was constantly asking for fresh ketchup bottles. I get back and everything is shot to shit.
"I think my brother would kill me if I dropped out of college just to work here full time."
He smiled at me. "Speaking of that, he called. Told me to tell you to call when you needed a ride home. He doesn't want you taking the bus."
"I don't know why he just won't give me my car back." I took the phone he held out to me. My cell was behind the counter with my purse and I didn't feel like getting up to retrieve it. My feet hurt like nobody's business and I swear I had muscle pain where I never knew I had muscles before. "He's being hardheaded."
Irvine chuckled and went back to the inventory. Irv's Diner was a staple in our little community. No matter the state of the restaurant itself, people would keep coming for the food. Hopefully, though, tomorrow their dining experience would be a tad better. The red vinyl was wiped down, the tables were cleaned up with a little bit of Dawn, and the black and white tile floor was swept and moped to a shine. The place had its sparkly clean back.
I was pretty proud of myself.
I called the house but no one picked up. It made me wonder how many nights of partying in a row my brother would do over Michelle's departure. The guy had it bad and I didn't feel sorry for him. He did it to himself.
I clicked the phone off after the twelfth consecutive ring. "No one answered."
Irvine clicked his tongue. "There was a time he'd sit in the back corner booth, just to make sure the late night drunks didn't touch you and he could take you home. Looks like times have changed." He indicated my face. "Go get cleaned up. I'll take you home when I'm finished."
"Thanks, Irv."
The bathrooms were across from the door to the kitchen so it was easy to grab the change of clothes I brought and switch out my dingy uniform for a clean outfit in the recently scrubbed down bathroom. Yes I did that too and yea it was disgusting. The men's bathroom was worse than the girl's and I didn't even want to know why the toilet was stopped up with a used condom. Nasty, that's all I had to say.
Not wanting to wear anything spectacular, I'd grabbed a denim skirt and a pale lavender loose fitting tank when I left the house that morning. I took my dark brown locks out of the constrictive pony tail and shook them out. I couldn't wait to get home and shower. I felt like I was covered in layers upon layers of grease and grime.
"Hey, Irv? Do you think..."
I stopped talking and walking when I saw a guy dressed in head to toe black holding a gun to the back of Irv's head. Dark brown eyes flicked to me and he was shaking a little. He was nervous, the robber not Irv. Irv's been held up so many times it doesn't affect him much anymore. His blood pressure didn't even change. But if I knew anything about the old bastard, he still kept the shot gun under the register and that would help out immensely in this situation. No, I wasn't thrilled about possibly taking a shot at this guy but there was no way I wouldn't defend myself or Irv if I had to.
"Hands up!" the guy yelled, pointing a second gun at me.
I took several deep breaths and held my hands up. "We can talk about this..."
"Shut up!" I jumped a little. I was too used to being the college version of myself and not the Rose. I'd been held at gun point before but it still scared the crap out of me. Just because I was a crack shot didn't mean I liked them. In my personal opinion, nothing that small should be able to kill you. "Empty the register. Go." I took a step back but he cocked the hammer on the gun. "Go over the counter."
As lady like as I could, I slipped over the counter and walked to the register with my hands still in the air. Irv was watching me with calm eyes and they flicked down to indicate it was ok. If I saw a chance to shoot the robber, I should.
"Do you have a bag?"
"What?" The robber looked from the back of Irv's head to me. "Why would I need a bag?"
"How else are you going to carry the money?"
"Just empty it!"
"Ok."
I pressed the key on the old register that would make the drawer pop open. I already knew Irv had emptied the drawer. It was one of the first things we did when we closed just so something like this wouldn't happen. If you wanted to rob the place, you should do it right before closing, not an hour after. That was the first indication something was up with this so called robbery.
"So..." I pretended to get cash out of the drawer by flicking up the little pieces of metal that normally held down the bills. "How old are you?"
"Stop asking questions and just give me the fucking money!"
"I'm only trying to make conversation. Smooth this over as easily as possible."
"I don't want a fucking conversation. I just want the fucking money."
"Well there's your first problem," I said clearly and before I could wrap my hand around the grip of the shot gun I heard a click.
"And here's your second," a velvety grovel of a voice said.
The robber looked a little dumbfounded that he'd been taken by surprise from behind. He lowered the gun he had trained on Irv but not on me. If I remembered correctly, I'd locked that door but somehow both of them had found their way in. Maybe my memory wasn't as sharp as it used to be.
"Put the gun down," Rey growled. "Now."
"I can't do that."
Rey pressed the gun against his skull like he had me the other night. "Then I'm afraid I'll have to shoot you before you shoot her. I promise you, my trigger finger is faster than yours."
"They'll kill my family if I don't kill her."
"Who?"
"The Black Jays."
My eyes ticked to Rey's. This was Rob's doing. I knew he would try something soon but I at least thought he would be here to do it himself. Or maybe he just knew this guy wouldn't succeed. He didn't want to be caught on scene. Whatever the reason, Rob was a complex guy for a gangster, smart too. Ford was the same way, a complete bastard and intelligent on some level.
"I'm sorry about your family," Rey said, no compassion in his voice at all. "But I can't allow you to shoot her. I like her better than you."
"I'm sorry."
I saw his finger tighten on the trigger and I instantly tried to move out of the way. The thing about bullets though, is they move faster than the eye can watch or the body can react. Good thing for me though he had crappy aim.
Rey, of course, had great aim. He didn't shoot to kill, just put a bullet in a place where the guy would be alive later to question. I was on my butt behind the counter, hand clapped around my bicep, trying to ignore the sting and the bleeding.
"Elina?" I heard the creak of the vinyl as Irv got up. "Elina!"
"I'm fine. Just...I have a boo-boo."
It may have sounded childish but it was the only thing that popped into my head.
*
"There ya go." The EMT smoothed the bandage around my arm. "Your blood sugars are normal but you should probably keep an eye on them for the rest of the evening. Go to the hospital in a week to have the stitches removed."
"Thank you."
The young guy smiled. "No problem."
He packed up his overly stuffed medical duffle thing and left. The cops had already talked to me and only after getting the nod from Rey did I say anything. So I recounted everything that happened and the uniform was pretty nice about it. Even after I gave him my name and a phone number where he could reach me in case the detective had any more questions. Of course I omitted the part where the guy was sent here to kill me. That was definitely something I wasn't allowed to say.
I sat there, staring out the window, waiting for Irv to come over and tell me I was fired. He was held up on a regular basis was one thing but it was a totally different situation when it was over an employee and not the money.
"You ok?"
My eyes snapped up and I stared at the man standing next to the table. "What are you doing here?"
"I flagged your name."
"Why?"
"I wanted to be notified in case someone found your dead body."
I looked around for Rey but he was outside with his back to me and the diner, talking on his cell phone.
"You shouldn't be here. They know who you are and if they know you're here, trying to talk to me again—"
"Marvin told me you went to a meeting. I'll leave you alone if you tell me when you're going again."
"Marvin?" I thought about it for a second and then it clicked. "The mediator. You know him?"
Houston nodded. "I showed him a picture of you and asked him to call me if you showed up."
"You need to stop. I don't know what it is—"
"You intrigue me." He tapped the table in front of me. "There's a meeting this Thursday at three. Be there."
"I can't," I hissed at him as he tried to walk away. "I can't talk to you."
"Come or I'll show up at your house again and this time, I'll arrest you."
"What? You can't do that!"
"I can and I will. It may be a trumped up charge but you know I'll do it." He leaned in and I leaned out. "The day after you were dumped at the hospital, I got a very interesting present at the station. A one Sergio Smith was delivered with a note stuffed in his pocket. Stay away from Emelina De Sota. Now, no one knew who Sergio was until he woke up and confessed to killing four girls." I looked away from him unable to keep eye contact anymore. "Now, unless I'm crazy, which I'm not because I have to see a department shrink four times a year, I would say you had something to do with that."
"I didn't."
"Be there or I'll come arrest you. Then we'll both have a bull's-eye on our backs."
He walked away after that, leaving me staring daggers at his back. He was trying to get me killed.
"I need a vacation," I muttered.
I glanced out the window again and saw Jorge sitting in the passenger seat of Houston's unmarked car. He was staring at me, a mixed expression on his face. This was pretty much torture. As the day had dragged on, the slapped cheek rash had worn away. That left the split lip, my badly bruised cheek bone, and my throat.
He nodded slightly as Houston made it to his car then turned to face forward like I didn't exist.
I looked over in Rey's direction, hoping he would hurry up so I could go home to bed. But he was still busy talking on his phone and Irv was talking to a uniform...
I got up and gathered my things and headed out the door without anyone noticing. It was a long walk home, and I probably should've called a taxi or something but I figured when I got tired of walking, I'd call then. I was maybe five minutes up the road when a car started riding even with me. Since I knew Rey had come on his bike, I knew it wasn't him.
That only left so many possibilities. None of them I liked.
*
"Yeah. It was him."
"Is she ok?"
"Just a gunshot graze. She'll be fine."
"Can I talk to her?"
"Yeah. She's..." Rey turned and looked through the window but where he remembered leaving her sitting was nothing more than empty space.
"Rey. Where's my sister?"
Rey looked around and just as he started to panic, a black Toyota drove slowly by the scene before taking off. There was a blue stripe running across the side and that could only mean one thing.
"I have to go."
Rey hung up the phone, silently cursing himself for letting her out of his sight. It was his day off from the shop but he had business to take care of out of town so he wasn't able to watch her like he wanted to. He was only a couple minutes late to the fucking diner and look what happened. He knew once she got a chance to bolt after talking to the cops and getting treated by the paramedics, she would. And what was he doing? Talking on his phone like a fucking valley girl.
As he headed for his bike, he saw three quick flashes of light a few streets up and his chest tightened. Tonight was apparently the night of fuck ups and he was paying the price. Rey mounted his bike but paused when his cell started ringing. He really didn't want to answer Vince's but he checked the caller ID just in case.
Oranges.
That one word blinked up at him and he answered. "Where are you?"
"I ducked into a 24hr grocery store about five minutes from the diner."
Good girl. "I'm coming."
He hung up and started the bike, thanking whatever god was looking down on him at the moment that someone had given her some semblance of common sense.
*