Page 45 of Bound by Wreckage
14
Carsyn/Ava
“Is thereanything else I can get’cha?” My southern drawl is almost too much for this place, but the customers leave me big tips and that’s what I care about.
Nashville, Tennessee.
My new home.
“Can I get some more sweet tea please?”The blonde woman smiles at me as she ruffles her daughter’s hair. The little girl rolls her eyes, but doesn’t say anything like this is an everyday thing. She looks just like her momma, a carbon copy. While it’s beautiful to see for others, it’s not for me. Kids, that is, have never been in the plan for me. Hell, this here, waiting on people has never been the plan. Until it was…
“Absolutely,I’ll be right back.”
Darting off, I check on a few more tables, bring the water, and make my way to the back.
“Would you smile,” Sondra, one of the other waitresses says, nudging me with her shoulder. I give her what she wants, the one that’s saved my ass more than once. “Now that’s gonna make you money.”
“Right.” My eyes drift down to her girls. “And if your shirts get anysmaller, the customers will be eatin’ your tits.”
She rolls her eyes, just like the child did earlier, and pushes her boobs up to the point part of her nip shows. “These things help me live. I got ‘em, and I’m usin’ ‘em.”
My tits are a little bigger than hers, but I make sure that mine are covered and only a small portion of the V shows any cleavage. After so many years of havingevery part of my body on display for everyone around me, I like having shirts that really fit and take full advantage of it. It may mean smaller tips, but for this I don’t care. I’ll just work harder to make them up because if it means I get to keep part of me to myself—I’m doing it.
“Whatever you need ta do.”
“Hey, what’re ya doin’ after work. You wanna go grab a beer?”
Sondra asks me this every night we’ve worked together in the past three weeks. I’ve went with her a couple times, but it’s hard on me. “Not tonight.”
Her hand goes to her hip that jets out. “You not like me?”
“Of course, I do. You know I’m not a big partier. I’ll go some other time.”
Large crowds freak me out, but I suck it up for my job because it pays the bills. It doesn’tmean that my eyes aren’t all over the place all the damn time. On my off time, I don’t want to be around a mass of people if I can help it. I like to sit in my space, just be and know I’m safe. It calms me to feel like there is a place all my own where no one can hurt me.
Going with Sondra is difficult because she likes to be the center of attention with everyone’s eyes on her. If theyare on her then they are on me, and it makes me very uncomfortable since I want to be invisible.
I did try, which is a huge step for me.
“Girl, we need to get you out more.”
I laugh it off going to the next table, taking orders and bringing drinks. One thing about Nashville is this place is never slow. We’re always slammed, and it’s mostly tourists who are out to spend moneyon vacation. I’ll gladly be the taker of said money.
The night goes by fast and furious. By the time I make it back to my place, my feet ache to the point of wanting to chop them off to find relief. Even after putting on my tennis shoes to make the seven-block hike back, they are on fire. A car is not in my best interests right now, and cabbing it every day is not the way I want to spendmy hard-earned money. Only buy necessities and saving the rest is the only goal I have right now, besides staying safe from Buck.
Locking the door behind me then securing the chain, I toss my purse and apron on the bed. Immediately, I go to the back corner of the room and peel up the old as hell carpet. A puff of dirt or something comes up, and I cough it away swishing my hand back andforth. One would think the amount of times it’s been pulled up there’d be no more dirt, but you’d be wrong. Pulling up the floorboard, I reach down and pull out my backpack.
It’s the same one that Nox left me all those months ago and my prized possession. Opening it, the metal box that I took from Buck’s closet is there along with money, the gun, which I pull out, and the paperwork I needfor a new life. It’s not much, but it’s mine. Sucking in a deep breath of relief it’s still there, I put it all back including my tips from the night, except for the gun, and cover it up with the carpet.
The metal box taunts me. I’ve opened it a few times, but shut it just as fast. There’s a fear of what is on the papers, and I have no idea where it comes from. It’s this little tingle inthe back of my neck that says—don’t open it. At least not yet.
The room isn’t the best by a long shot. The carpet is some kind of flower pattern from the seventies and the walls look yellow, but I’m pretty sure it’s from someone smoking instead of paint. The queen-sized bed is clean and comfortable and my meager things fit in the dresser. There’s a small refrigerator, a microwave, and atelevision—everything a girl could ask for. Oh, and a clean bathroom.
Everything in the place is old as hell, but I rent it for a week at a time; it’s close to work, and the door is a heavy metal. Everything I need in one place. It’s mine, and it’s nice holding onto something that is only yours. It’s almost like a sense of power to know that you’re surviving. Strange, but true.
Nashville wasn’t my first destination after leaving South Carolina. I tried Dyersburg, Tennessee first, but it didn’t go well.
My job as a waitress was good and I worked with a woman named Chelsea, but Chelsea is connected to the Vipers Creed MC. It wasn’t the link that freaked me out; it’s what one of them said while I walked by their table.
