Page 11 of Moros

Telling her they gave me a call sign of the God of impending doom shouldn’t make it worse.

3

RYANNE “SHORTY” LARWICK

“I’ve been meaning to ask you.” Sylvie stood by me at the pickup counter. “That man from the other night—was that your man?”

I shook my head and turned to walk away. She never talked to me unless she wanted something, or she was about to make my life hell.

The scar on her chin came from me getting fed up with her bullshit.

She grabbed my arm and I swung on her catching her against the side of her head.

“What did I say about touching me?” I demanded.

“You hit me!”

“Is that any more or less bad than the stab?”

Her lips trembled as she began backing away from me. Frowning, I let her go and picked up my latest order.

Greg had been staying away from me since his counter with Khadri. As a matter of fact, I could ask for anything, and he’d give it to me.

But I was just happy he wasn’t trying to grab my ass anymore.

“Here you go.” I found a smile for the little girl at the table. “One banana split. I talked them into adding extra blueberries. You mommy said you liked them.”

She giggled.

“Thank you.” The mother told me.

I winked at her and turned back to one of my other tables. The family there left a mess but since the tip was nice I wasn’t too mad about it.

Grabbing a basket, I packed all the plates and cups into it then wiped all the food off before disinfecting the surface.

Once it was cleaned, I checked on my last few tables, and brought all the used plates to the counter to be taken into the back.

All the while, I tried keeping my mind off Khadri Weston.

He wasn’t the typical pretty boy.

But even then, I couldn’t think of a sexier man.

I didn’t mind the scars—it gave him character and a beauty no one else would have.

The body he had under his clothes was tone and hard.

I remembered the feel of it when he caught me, when he held me in his arms. But I had to remind myself he hadn’t done it because he wanted to.

It was to keep me from smashing open my skull on the edge of the table or on the floor.

Still, I couldn’t remember ever knowing what I wanted in a man.

I knew I wanted him to be kind and good. But other than that, I didn’t know what turned me on.

I didn’t know what it felt like to be?—

“Order up!” Greg yelled, then began coughing.

---