Page 2 of Dangerous Refuge

“Dammit,” I grumble under my breath. This is exactly what I needed tonight, to make things worse with an already unhappy customer. She sees me from across the room and her scowl becomes an angry glare. Dana is there in a heartbeat with towels and I use them to dab at the sticky fabric of my skirt’s hem.

“Go… I got this,” she tells me, gesturing toward the woman.

My shoulders sag as I walk her way, feeling the soup soak through my ballet flats and warm my toes. It’s a walk of shame. Everyone in this place saw me soil myself, and now I have to explain why this woman will not be eating her second bowl of soup.

“Was that mine! Oh my god, you’re so careless. How can you be so clumsy?” The woman’s tone is biting and harsh. I have to remember she is a customer not someone I know personally.

“I’m really sorry, ma’am. I—”

She stands, slamming her napkin onto the table. Her husband flushes with embarrassment but says nothing. “You should be ashamed of yourself. You know I’ve never had such horrible service here in my life.”

“Please, forgive me. I can have the kitchen prepare you a new soup, and I would like to pay for your meal myself.” I squeeze the towel in my hands. I hardly have money to pay rent, but it’s the right gesture. This screw up was my fault.

“No. I want to speak to your manager.” She crosses her arms over her chest indignantly and I want to smack her. I restrain myself though, knowing that will just lead to assault charges. I step backward, thinking how Karen-like this woman is being, and I run into something very firm and lose my balance again, only this time, strong hands on my hips hold me upright.

I gasp and step away, seeing the very tall, very broad-chested man from the table across the room. His dreamy eyes are focused on me for a split second then he looks at the woman. “I’m sorry, Miss. I couldn’t help but witness what happened and overhear you’re upset. I would like to pay for your entire meal. And I would like to leave you with a gift.” He pulls out his wallet, placing two-hundred-dollar bills on the table. That’s enough to pay for this meal and a few more like it.

“Well…” the woman huffs, “you are not personally responsible for this woman’s failure. Are you the manager?”

“I am not. I’m just a concerned customer who wants to help.” He folds his hands in front of his waist holding his wallet in them. “If that’s not enough, I can offer more.”

I back away as Dana walks up, shooing me. I know she’s watching out for me so the manager won’t get on my case, and I’m amazed how this stranger has come to my rescue. He has no reason to be so kind and bail me out of this situation with the angry woman, and I will have to thank him sometime, but right now I just want to hide.

I head for the kitchen, tossing the dirty towel into the hamper where it goes and burst out the back door with my purse in hand, snagged from the hook near the breakroom. I plop myself on the bench where I usually sit to have a smoke and pull my cigarettes and lighter out. The ground is covered in butts, probably left there by the cook. It’s a gross habit, and sometimes I pick them up and put them in the trash for him, but not today. I light up and puff on the cigarette, feeling the nicotine already calming the craving I had.

I’ve barely gotten my cigarette lit when I see someone approaching. It’s a man wearing a dark hoodie, hunched over. I stand a bit nervous, and the man folds the hood back. His dark hair and dark eyes give him away immediately.

“Oh god, what are you doing here?” My worst nightmare approaches me. Paul has found me already. I thought I had a few months left before this happened again.

“You know why I’m here, Allie. I want my son. He deserves to know his father.” He jams his hands in his hoodie pockets and I drop my lit cigarette to the ground and use the toe of my shoe to snuff it out.

“I don’t have time for this,” I tell him, heading for the door, but he grabs my elbow and hurts me, yanking me backward.

“You better make time,” he growls. “Because I am going to get my son.”

“Yeah, well sue me for custody then. I’ll have them drug test you and you’ll go to jail. You’ll never see Rico again.” I wrestle to get away from him but his grip tightens.

“I’m going to get him back.”

I could spit in his face right now. I'm so angry. I was just starting to settle into this new place and now he’ll be following me home. “I’ll never let you have him. You beat me so bad in front of him he started wetting the bed again. You’re not getting him back.” This is the last thing I needed today. I want to go home now and pack my things and leave.

“Hey!”

Another male voice hits my ears and I see the large man from inside charging down the alley. Paul snarls and pushes me away and I cower near the door, ready to run inside. But the large man whose name I can’t remember, is at my side, standing between me and Paul in a split second.

“Keep your hands off the lady, pal.”

“What’s it to you, prick? This is personal business.” Paul squares his shoulders. He’s a near match in height and weight, but I fear the large man may go down hard if Paul hits him. I have first-hand experience with how hard he hits.

“It’s my business when I see a man get physical with a woman. Now leave before I call the cops.” When his chest puffs out I see the ridges of defined muscles beneath his shirt and I look away. I don’t want to stand here and watch a fist fight.

“I’ll be back, Allie. Rico is mine. You’ll see…”

Paul walks away and the large man turns to me. “You okay?” he asks, opening the door. I nod and back into the restaurant, ready for my break to be over.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” I manage to mumble. I never do get his name, though I make a mental note to try to get it if he comes in again.

He lets the door swing shut and I start a mental plan for how I’m going to tell Rico we have to move again. He’ll be crushed.

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