Page 19 of A Beta Protects

It is… strange to eat a meal with so many people. During breakfast, I was so tense I couldn’t relax enough to enjoy it. Now I do.

My parents died when I was thirteen. Aaron was older, nearly seventeen, and he pretty much took over raising me, until he joined the Marines, since small town Palmerston, Missouri, had little going for it, career-wise.

Until I married Bryce, it was just me and Aaron. Then Aaron joined the Marines, and it was me and Bryce.

“You want more, Kira?” Sierra asks.

I shouldn’t. When I open my mouth to say no, that what I have is fine, that I’ve eaten plenty, everyone is digging in with abandon. They clear their plates and go back for the seconds and thirds I’d wanted to but was too embarrassed, thinking it would make me look greedy.

Bryce’s sweet wife eats what’s on her plate and portions out the rest of the meal for her husband to take some for his lunch the next day. The rest she disposes because good wives do not let themselves get lazy, relying on leftovers to feed their husbands who work hard providing for them.

But Bryce isn’t here, I tell myself. And the hardest work he ever did was convince you that you were useless.

“Uh, sure, thanks.” I accept another piece of chicken and because I’m having another piece of chicken, I have to have more pasta, more sauce and another piece of garlic toast.

And I do not let myself feel bad about it.

I’m heading upstairs, stuffed beyond words, when Dom calls after me. “Kira?”

I turn. He’s at the bottom of the staircase, hands in his pocket, and his expression is thoughtful. “Yeah?”

Suddenly, the kitchen I just walked out of after I wished everyone good night is suspiciously quiet. I was the first person to leave when they refused my offer to help clear up. I’m not sure what their plans are this evening, since none of them were making any moves to leave, but I’m edging toward a food coma. I need sleep.

“You said you wanted to know if anywhere was hiring,” he says.

I perk up, swallowing my yawn before it can slip out. “Uh, yeah. You know of a place?”

He shakes his head. “Not yet. Since you don’t know Wylder and it would take me too long to tell you about each business, I thought I could take you into town tomorrow, show you around. That way you could see it for yourself.”

I want to say no.

Within hours of getting to Wylder, Bryce was already putting out his feelers. Sure, the sheriff lied to cover me, but, truth be told, I’d kind of hoped to hide out in this remote farmhouse with any work I pick up being in an equally remote place.

Like in a field surrounded by cows.

Town, even though it’s tiny, is scary.

If Bryce figured out where I was, all it would take is one person to tell him they’d seen me. I bet everyone would know Dom from the farmhouse on the edge of town, and then Bryce would know exactly where to find me.

My funds are dry, and my car is hungry for gas. If I want to make it to Alaska, which feels increasingly like a pipe dream, my answer has to be yes.

“So, there are a lot of businesses?”

Please let the answer be no.

I want to zip into town, ask a few questions, and get the hell back to this remote farmhouse with incredible food and friendly house guests who don’t ask probing questions.

“A few. It’s all Mom and Pop stores, so no big chains here. You’d be working alongside the owners, who would want to meet you first before they decided if they could work with you,” he explains.

So there’s going to be no getting out of this.

Shit.

“Even if I was only going to be here for a few days?” I hold my breath as I wait for his response.

His jaw hardens, but he doesn’t speak for several seconds. “You have somewhere you’re heading?”

No. But living on the charity of others isn’t something I’m happy to do. I’m desperate, but I’m not willing to take advantage of Dom and his friend’s any more than I have already. It wouldn’t be right. Even if I have nowhere to go.

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