Page 15 of The Erion Triad

“Where do you take the used plates?”

Her gaze darted about. “You’ll get me fired if you do this, and believe me I need this job.”

“Why do you need this job so much, Lucie? Don’t you have someone who takes care of you?”Three mates who will cater to your every wish if you so desire.All you need to do is ask.

But she’d never asked them to do a thing. Not even to comfort her when she trembled alone in her bed at night. And he knew she did when he checked in on her, waiting for her to hold a hand out to him, but all she’d done was huddle beneath the blankets and pretend to sleep.

She blinked up at him, her eyes luminous and her mouth turned down. In that moment, she looked so small. So defeated. “I don’t need anyone to take care of me. I haven’t for a long time.”

Juliran felt a frown push his forehead. She didn’t remember them at all. Impossible hurt stabbed his heart, but he had to remember it wasn’t her. It was the entity clouding her thoughts. What she did remember was indelibly etched on her subconscious. Memories a malevolent entity from another dimension couldn’t erase. “Surely you have someone.” His voice cracked as he spoke. Surely, she would remember them. The bond was too strong.

Surely.

Her lips pursed and her eyes glazed. She came to a decision when she took a steeling breath and squared her shoulders. “You’d think so, but…” She shrugged, coming out of herself. “My parents died. My foster parents kicked me out when I turned eighteen. Government funding only goes so far and I was an extra mouth to feed. An unwanted expense. I’ve survived on my own for years now. I’m used to it. So now you can see, give me the dishes. I need this job more than you could possibly know.”

Her words punched him right in the gut. He had no idea of her past at all. She’d suffered greatly in her life on Earth and he hadn’t known any of it. She’d remembered her horrible past, and yet her mind was blank when it came to them.

If she didn’t remember them, how in the stars were they going to save her from the depths of her mind?

Chapter Six

Lucie

The hot big guy made the dirty dishes look like a child’s tea party in his massive hands. He had nice fingers though. Long, lean, and smooth. Callouses on his palms, so he was a hard worker of some sort. It was strange what she’d noticed about him.

Apart from being totally hot, with his muscular six-and-a-half-foot frame, and built like a linebacker, his hair was short and spiked on the top although longish strands fell over his eye. In the right light, it seemed to have blue streaks in the strands. Several times she’d had to blink twice only to find that her eyes had played tricks on her. He didn’t seem the kind to get color done from a hairdresser.

His friends were all tall, but she wasn’t put off by that. Quite the opposite. She felt safe. Protected. She knew men could use their height and bulk to their advantage. If they did anything, she wouldn’t be able to lift a finger, but somehow, she inherently knew they would not hurt her. They were simply alpha, protective types that looked out for people not able to do it for themselves. A very rare breed.

They were all super-hot. Her type, now that she thought of it. One had tattoos curling up his neck in an intricate design she yearned to see more of, a startling blue instead of the normal black. He was a little broader than the one standing right in front of her, perching dishes in his hands, but no less intimidating. The other one had short hair and a trimmed beard. He also had that look about him that told her he was used to issuing orders and them being carried out. If there was a leader to their little group, he was it.

All had strong jawlines, straight shoulders, flat stomachs, and looked like they could take on an entire football team and win—and the way they wore those jeans wassinful. Way, way out of her league. One hundred percent certain.

Oh well, a girl could dream.

Besides, she had a boyfriend. She loved him.

She was sure of it.

Of course, she did. Grant had been her rock when she’d reached her lowest. Had brought her from the depths she’d sunk to. Without him, she would probably be dead by now. Nobody would have cared one way or the other. Just another Jane Doe. She had a lot to thank him for.

She could look at these super-hotties, but there would be no touching. Besides, she was too busy and too tired to do more than appreciate a handsome man—or three. One boyfriend was enough hard work. She held her hands out for the dishes, only he didn’t seem to want to hand them over to her.

“Where is your manager?” His voice was a deep rumble and he had the unerring ability to look at her and make the rest of the world fade away.

“You’re not going to tell him off, are you?”

They’d been watching her as she’d darted from order to table to clean up but that was the job and it was a busy night tonight. She was run off her feet and she had no time to waste. She could just imagine him giving Luke a piece of his mind and her losing her job all in the one night. And then where would she be? Up shit creek without a paddle, that was where.

The one with the tattoos cleared the other table, balancing sturdy dishes that looked decidedly delicate in his hands. “You are understaffed. You need help and we need jobs.”

Her mouth fell open and she blinked at him, mute for a moment. “You. Want to workhere…?” She tried to work through the incredulity but failed. They were short staffed for the night. Sharon and Leanne hadn’t turned up for some reason, as though in direct relationship to her lack of energy. If she had felt drained at the start of the shift, she was positively exhausted now. She made a mental note to get some vitamins. That’d pep her back up from her underlying lethargy.

“Where else may we find employment?” The largest one approached, putting his hands on his hips. She belatedly realized the top of her head came to his shoulder.

What about within the glossy pages of a magazine? She licked her lips, thinking of all the hard labor jobs they must be used to with physiques like that. “I don’t know. A mechanic? Security guard? Basketballer?”Model. Male escort. She stifled her hysterical giggle.

The one with the tattoos frowned. “I don’t know what those jobs are but we are quite capable of clearing tables, serving meals, and wiping up children’s spillages.”

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