Page 32 of More Than Nothing
“I don’t.”
Elenie doubted that. “There are two reasons. Athena might not win any Mom of the Year awards but she’s all I have. It’s pretty scary to make that final break. I keep thinking our relationship will improve somehow and it will be worth sticking around for.”
The grunt in Roman’s throat was acknowledgment, if not agreement. “And the other reason?”
“I don’t have any money.”
He shot her a quizzical look.
Elenie curled over her knees, wincing a little when her sore ribs twinged. “Frank takes most of my wages for rent. I buy food with the rest, so saving the money I’d need is almost impossible.”
A muscle bunched in Roman’s cheek. “Why do you work in the diner when you could choose to work anywhere in town?”
Elenie gave a tiny smile which lacked humor. He had no idea. “It’s not as simple as that. I didn’t really choose Diner 43. I planned to work somewhere else. There was a wonderful, pokey bookstore on the corner of Stewart Street when we first moved here and I thought it’d be the coolest thing I could imagine to surround myself with books, all day, every day. Books are so much easier than people.”
“You’re not wrong there,” Roman agreed. “I remember the bookstore.”
“The French use the phrase ‘ink drinker’ instead of bookworm. Don’t you just love that?” He gave her that dangerous, lopsided tilt of his lips which set fire alarms screaming in her ears. “Mr. Reagan was a nice guy. Reserved but fair. He gave me a job after I left school, but Frank got involved. When Mr. Reagan wouldn’t pay my wages straight to him, Frank smashed a window in the storeroom and started a fire.” She tugged the blanket tighter. “That’s the sort of thing he does. All those beautiful books and a man’s livelihood—gone. I don’t think the insurance ever paid out and Chief Roberts certainly didn’t bust a gut to find out who was behind the attack. The store stayed closed, and Mr. Reagan moved out of town. I will never stop feeling guilty about that.” Elenie wiped her hands over her face. “I tried everywhere else to get a job, but being Frank Dax’s stepdaughter isn’t the reference you need to open doors in PineSprings. I work at the diner because no one else will hire me and Delia’s so awful she can’t get any other staff. Frank leaves the diner alone because far more people would kick up a fuss if anything happened to keep them from their breakfast than they would over a little used bookstore.” She summoned a touch of flippancy. “It’s not all bad, though. Sometimes there’s spare pie.”
It didn’t feel cleansing to spill out her pathetic life story. The facts hung in the air like a layer of pollution, threatening the chances of another night like this one or more time in the company of the magnetic man beside her. Elenie’s skin felt raw, too thin, too sensitive, and not just from the bruises. It prickled with the shame of not being able to lead an ordinary life when everyone else seemed to manage it.
Roman placed his mug down on the deck, slowly and deliberately. “Would you consider pressing charges against Frank?” Solemn eyes searched her face. “It’s not OK to live like this.”
She gave an involuntary shudder and looked out across Otto’s backyard. “Things are changing,” she said finally. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking recently and I’m trying to decide where to go from here.”
“And Craig Perry?”
She hadn’t expected that question. “Craig? Why do you ask?”
Roman’s voice was gruff. “Summer told me he gave you some grief in the Barrel. How do you know him?”
“I don’t know him well. He’s been to the house, talking business with Frank, and he’s a bit of a creep. Very cocky.”
A small breeze ruffled her hair, blowing a feather-soft curl across her eyes. Roman lifted his hand. She flinched and he froze.
Stupid.
“Sorry, your hair was—”
“No, I know . . . I, uh . . .” Elenie’s face burned with embarrassment.
The long moment of silence was leaden with unspoken words before Roman broke it. His eyes had darkened almost to black.
“You’re not on your own anymore. You have friends now. And you have choices.”
His words sounded like a promise, but Elenie wasn’t sure it was true. Her choices felt as limited as always. And Roman Martinez was not staying in Pine Springs.
She searched his face intently—what for, she didn’t know—and tucked the blanket tighter around her legs. They sat without speaking for ages, the narrow space between them as uncrossable as the Darién Gap. The hum of Otto’s television drifted out through the open doorway.
It was almost eleven when Roman said he’d better make a move.
Elenie, stiff and sore though she was, the top step imprinted on her butt, would have stayed there until morning given the choice. Soaking up the quiet comfort of Roman’s company, his heat warming her bones even without any contact.
“Can I give you a ride home?” He reached out a hand to pull her up, his huge palm callused against her skin. The touch seared like a static current right through to her core.
Elenie shrugged off the blanket, folding it neatly to give herself something to do. “Otto offered me his couch for the night.” She glanced at the open back door. “It’ll take me ten minutes to walk to work in the morning so it seemed a good idea. I brought some things with me.”
“Will anyone wonder where you are?”
