It was almost closing time when he came in.
Amelia had been cleaning up a recently vacated table her hands were loaded down with dishes and she was dog tired; too tired to deal with another customer this close to closing.
Amelia was the only waitress still at the restaurant.
Tasked with closing by Tony she would be the last one out the door and it was her responsibility to clean the tables, mop the floors, and refill all the salt and pepper shakers.
She was just cleaning up her last table and preparing to flip the sign on the door to closed when he came walking in.
He caught her off guard and she nearly dropped the armload of dirty dishes she was carrying when she saw him standing in the doorway still glowering at her like dirt on his favorite biker boot.
"Okay buddy I don't know what your problem is but I am too tired to give a hoot right now." She mumbled under her breath.
As if he had heard her comment he quirked a brow and tilted his head a little to the right.
There was no way he could have heard her but there was a slight tilt to his lips that made him seem even scarier somehow and that lead her to believe that impossible or not he had indeed heard what she had said.
Rushing to the back to unload the dishes in her hands before she really did drop them she took this moment to escape from Quillon Monroe and his steely gaze.
Ernie looked up from cleaning the grill as she walked through the employee only door carrying the dishes to the empty sink.
Tossing them down on the counter by the sink Amelia took a deep breath to calm her nerves before looking at Ernie.
On his face was a questioning smile.
"Well sweets, seems to me somethings got you mighty worked up?" Ernie was a fifty-five-year-old widower whose one and only love died of cancer five years ago; he was a sweet man, a talented cook and a diehard romantic.
"Wouldn't happen to have anything to do with that strapping young man who just walked in would it?"
"Ernie, stop it." Amelia warned playfully, "I don't even know him."
Turning she placed the dishes in the sink and filled it with soapy water.
Afterward, she quickly washed her hands and dried them before giving Ernie a fake warning look and heading back out to her final customer of the night.
Walking out of the back she quickly hurried to the entrance door and flipped the open sign to closed.
She was going to prevent anymore last minute stranglers from entering.
Then she made her way over to the counter where her last customer sat.
Taking a deep soothing breath, she went to him with pen and paper in hand.
"Can I get you something to drink?" she asked; finally looking up and into his eyes.
Amelia felt her world tilt... his eyes were gorgeous and mercurial.
A weird greyish color they seemed to be staring into her soul looking for all her deeply leashed secrets.
"Coffee...black." his voice was deep with a sexy melodic tone that hinted at an accent.
British it seemed.
How did a guy whose father ran a biker club in Alabama have a son who sported a British accent?
"Okay." Amelia sat her pen and paper down on the counter between them before she turned to make her way over to the coffee maker.
Emptying out the old cold coffee she set about making a half of a pot just for him.
After the coffee brewed she removed the carafe and filled one of the restaurant cups with the hot bitter brew.
Setting the cup down in front of him she reached down under the counter and placed a menu on the counter beside his cup before she asked if he needed a minute.
"No, I am not hungry. I just came here for the coffee and the entertainment."
Amelia was confused, "Entertainment?" she asked.
"Yes, you seem very entertaining to me... especially when you talk your thoughts out loud and assume only you can hear them." he took a sip of his coffee.
He wore a smile on his lips as he did so and his eyes never left her face.
Blushing Amelia shook her head in eager agreement.
She was glad he found it amusing rather than be offended, amused he was not complaining to her boss and getting her fired for being rude to a customer.
Turning Amelia went to tell Ernie he could finish cleaning up the grill but she was stopped by a hand on her wrist.
"Did I say you could go." his voice was deep and soothing his words, however, sounded menacing.
Ice went through her veins as she turned back to Quillon.
"Let go of my wrist please," Amelia asked her voice barely a whisper.
"I said no to the food but I still need my entertainment." Releasing her wrist, he held his hands palm up, fingers wide in an I am no longer threatening manner.
"What do you want?" Amelia asked Quillon.
He smirked before lowering his right hand back down to his coffee cup his left hand however reached out towards her and snared a stray piece of hair that had fallen out of her ponytail earlier in the day.
"I just wanted to talk... so will you talk to me, pretty girl?"
Even though he asked she knew he was not really asking her.
"Yeah sure what do you want to talk about?" she asked stepping back out of his reach.
The strand of hair he had twined around his finger slowly unraveled.
At first, he was quiet almost like he was ignoring the question but then he shifted a little on the barstool he leaned back some and looked her over from head to toe.
"Why don't we start with whose been working you over?" He smirked like it was a joke, like someone being beat was funny to him.
Not wanting Ernie to hear their conversation Amelia tried her best to appear nonchalant as she shook her head in denial.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she said.
Yet at that moment Amelia felt so many conflicting emotions the biggest admittedly was fear.
She feared that somehow her stepfather would hear about this conversation and beat her to death because she was heard speaking of his crimes out loud.
Yet a part of her was screaming inside of her head for her to talk to him to tell him everything and pray he would help her.
In the end, though fear overran the hope that someone might save her, so she kept her mouth closed.
Finishing off his coffee in one single gulp he placed the cup back on the counter.
Digging into his back pocket he removed a chained black wallet he then yanked out a twenty-dollar bill.
He threw the bill on the countertop; replacing his wallet he mumbled, "Keep the rest," before he headed back to the door.
Right as he pushed the door open and was about to exit he spoke his eyes were looking out at the others from his club who sat on their bikes waiting for him.
"I started noticing about two months ago...the random limping, the slight hesitation before you made certain movements, and the heavy poorly done makeup days when you were trying to cover up bruises... Up until then I was like the rest of them too caught up with my own shit to notice." Turning to face her he smiled, it was neither a pleasing smile or a conspiring one...it was kind of knowing.
"Then there was this one night... you were going home and you went to remove your apron I noticed you couldn't reach back for the ties; you had tears in your eyes so I reached over and pulled the string myself...you never noticed but since then I promise I have not been so blind. I have been paying lots of attention and I have decided to play white knight. A novelty for me but not a free act for you."
He went to exit but Amelia for all her fear couldn't let him leave without answers.
"What price?" She asked her voice trembling.
"Entertainment Luv. You're going to become my own personal entertainment."
A/N
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