Safe Place

Chapter Three

Sienna

I closed my eyes as I exhaled the smoke. I needed this. I hated how much I needed it, but I was having a rather strenuous day. I leaned my head back on the wall as I took another puff. Lizzy was at school, I was at work, and the same schedule and routine I've been doing for years were getting to me.

I was exhausted mentally, physically, and emotionally. I don't remember the last time I did something for myself or even went out and enjoyed a night out. I didn't trust anyone to watch Lizzy, and it's not like I had anywhere to go or anyone to turn to.

It was just Lizzy and me. After Scarlet passed away, I promised her I'd take care of Lizzy, that I'd never let harm touch her, and I'd kept it. Sometimes it hurt, and sometimes the pain was unbearable, and I tried. I swear to God I've tried to forget and dull it, but how do you dull the biggest wound in your heart?

How do you even begin to erase each wound, forget every memory, when you still felt that pain with every breath of air you took and every beat that skipped in your pulse? Shit like this thrummed and pulsed through your veins, in your very bloodstream, and it was overwhelming and blinding.

I took one last puff of the cigarette and exhaled as I stood up to head back inside. It's not that working in this diner was the worst possible thing because I was a grateful person, but I was just tired. Tired of everything and everyone lately, and I hated how defeated and drained I've been feeling lately.

I took a few orders, wiped down the tables, and even offered to help Frank with the dishes because I needed to keep my mind busy, keep it occupied. I told myself that if I kept going, working, and reminding myself not to think too hard, I wouldn't.

Turns out that when you tell your stupid brain not to do something, it ignores you and does whatever the fuck it wants. Most of my customers were regulars today, and I was all smiles and laughs and pats on the back as I poured their coffee and snuck them an extra slice of pie I'd whisper to them was on the house.

They'd laugh and tell me how sweet I was and what a nice girl I was working here as if it was a compliment. It wasn't, but I didn't make a face or take it to heart. They were old and sweet couples, and their life and mindset weren't like mine.

I saw a customer walk in from the corner of my eye, and I reached for a menu and dusted my dress before heading toward the table. I smiled and set the menu down, and once I saw who it was in the booth, a scowl replaced my smile, and I reached for the menu. He was faster than me, taking it and opening it.

"What do you want?" I asked.

His eyes scanned the menu casually, and I saw him click his tongue as he leaned back in the red-leathered booths. I grew more annoyed and cocked my head as I crossed my arms over my chest.

"What are you doing here? Didn't you cause enough trouble yesterday?"

He closed the menu and set it down, clasping his hands together on top of it as he eyed me.

"Is that how you speak to all of your customers?"

"Only the ones that give me migraines and spike my blood pressure." I smiled sweetly.

"I want a cup of coffee and a slice of apple pie."

"Aw, I'm so sorry, but we just ran out."

His brows furrowed in confusion. "Of what?"

"Of whatever it is you want," I said and tucked my notebook into my pocket. "The doors right there; don't let it hit you on the way out."

I snatched the menu, gave him a stern look, and walked back to see if anyone else needed my help. Fucking asshole coming back here as if he didn't just order the whole fucking menu yesterday and overworking the entire kitchen.