Page 30 of Destroying Everleigh

“Everleigh,” she groaned. “Just go.”

I stepped outside, my skin crawling with nerves. My chest was tight with the knowledge of them having to be here without me for the next six hours. Anything could happen in that time frame. Even though I’d been doing this for over a year now, it didn’t get easier.

My hand tightened around the rusted keys in my palm, my breathing picking up speed. I’d never been an anxious person. Not until Mom got sick, lost her job, and moved us to the ghetto side of Brookhaven. A part of me wanted to hunt down my piece of shit father and demand he take responsibility for his actions. We lived in a narrow street that had run-down houses decorating either side. They were the kinds of houses that gang bangers would live in and cook their dope in. Sometimes, when I came home late after work, I could smell the faint scent of meth. It was bitter, disgusting, and made my stomach curl anytime I got a whiff.

House robberies weren’t a foreign concept, especially on this side of town. Which was precisely why I made sure the door was locked, even if it was the middle of the day, and I was home. I’ve seen enough stories about what happened in this part of Brookhaven. We lived on the Northside—the most dangerous side of town. It was a far fall from the Southside where luxury homes and gated communities resided. That’s where me andAsh lived before everything went to hell. It was also where my college was.

I slipped into the drivers’ seat, trying to calm my nerves. Just a few weeks ago, a young girl was abducted on this side of town. Went missing right out of her front yard. She hadn’t been much younger than Briley. Sixteen, if I remembered correctly.

It didn’t take long to reach the diner. It was located right on the edge of Northside and was a neutral ground for all kinds of people. We’d get bikers, gangsters, and even the mafia princess stepped foot in here from time to time, flanked by her subjects. I would have never guessed she was involved in the crime that went on here. She was gorgeous, clad in leather and had midnight, silky hair. It was one of my co-workers who filled me in. Apparently, they were well known around these parts.

Bianca Belvedere. Italian mafia princess.

Blowing out a breath, I stepped out of my vehicle and trudged through the darkened parking lot. The lights within the diner bled out onto the pavement outside, causing a shiver to roll down my spine.

Once I stepped foot in the building, my shoulders dropped a fraction with relief. I was always paranoid that someone was going to snatch me up and do unspeakable things to me before throwing me in a ditch to rot. I’d be on the news, my mom would be too sick to know the difference, and my siblings would probably end up in foster care once the police realized the state my mother was in.

Silverware clattered against plates and bowls, filling the room with the annoying, yet all too familiar sound. Voices were loud as they spoke animatedly about the news, weather, and everything in between. Being a server did have its perks, though. How else was I supposed to hear all the gossip that was spreading like wildfire around the town?

I clocked in, put my notebook in the pocket of my apron after tying it, and waited behind the counter. The money wasn’t great here, especially since I couldn’t work full time. But sometimes we’d get a few overly generous customers that made our night worth it.

A frazzled brunette hurried over to me with a flushed face, her pulse fluttering against her neck. “Oh, Everleigh. I’m so glad you’re here. It’s been busy since I got here.” She glanced at the door that had opened moments behind me and frowned. “I’m next on rotation, but would you mind taking them for me? I already have five tables.”

I smiled reassuringly. “Sure, Viv. I got it.”

She returned a grateful smile, like I just offered her the world. But I knew how it could be sometimes. When we were understaffed and it was a busy night, it felt like the world was weighing on your shoulders. Especially when the biker gang rolled in.

I glanced down at the seating chart that was taped to the top of the counter, my eyes skimming over it until I located mine.

“Any day now,” a bitter voice snapped, slicing through my thoughts, and jumbling them once more.

I forced a tight smile, my patience running extremely thin after the day I’ve had. My gaze jerked to the new customer’s, forcing my stomach to hollow out in response.

Crystal fucking Hopkins.

We’d been on neutral ground ourselves since attending the same college, but apparently that went out the window as soon as Ashton made his grand appearance. She’s always had a thing for him. Even going as far as to attempt getting him to cheat on me with her. When he finally shut her down, quite sternly at that, she backed off and snagged Kash up instead.

Two of her new college buddies that she’d befriended last year stood on either side of her, paired with a couple guys I recognized from Lucas’s fraternity.

“Right,” I muttered, grabbing a handful of menus. “This way.”

I rounded the counter and made my way toward the back of the diner, placing the menus at a table that would fit all of them.

“What if we wanted a booth?” Crystal demanded, dropping a manicured hand to her hip. Her blue eyes narrowed, and I knew right then that she wasn’t going to make this easy on me.

Sighing, I turned to face her. “We don’t have a booth big enough for the five of you.”

The guy standing next to Crystal trailed his gaze over my body. The uniform consisted of a black skirt that reached my upper thighs and a white button-down shirt with black buttons and a black outline around the collar of it. Oh, and we couldn’t forget the black pantyhose. While calling itthe diner, didn’t do it much justice, it was fitting. The diner was huge in size and prided themselves on professionalism and classy attire.

The guy’s name was on the tip of my tongue, but I had to work a bit harder than expected to find it. Finally, it hit me like a lightning bolt.

Colton Fisher, AKA Colt.

“You’re Lucas’ girl, right?” he asked.

His light brown hair swept across his forehead, and I had to admit, he wasn’t bad to look at. He had sharp features, brown eyes, and naturally tan skin. Not to mention that broad chest that had his shirt clinging to his body like a lifeline from years of playing football and hitting weights.

Crystal’s friend scowled at me, wrapping her arms around Colt’s, holding him possessively against her. I immediately recognized her, having had a few run-ins with the bitch myself. “Stop eye-fucking my boyfriend, tramp,” Allison hissed.

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