Bad Influence (Seven Deadly Sins #2) ✅ Completed

Chapter Thirteen: Mark Twain and Biker Goons from Hell

Mark Twain and Biker Goons from Hell

We headed back to the Emporium less than an hour later. It'd taken no time at all to run to Becky’s Burgers over in Pilot Grove, just a little over twenty minutes from Blackwater. We’d driven most of the way in silence, trying to get a grip on the identity of our latest visitor. It wasn’t every day a Greek god flew in from outside the pages of Bulfinch’s Mythology.

Without a word, Chase had pulled into the parking lot of the popular mom and pop burger joint. He'd turned the ignition off and faced me. “Want to go inside and get a pop?” he’d asked, his voice quiet inside the car.

“Yep.” I’d thrown open my door and waited for him to follow.

We’d entered the diner and took a seat at one of the empty tables by the window. A girl younger than I was, perhaps still in junior high, came over and greeted Chase. She'd turned and given me a friendly yet openly curious look. Chase introduced us, explaining Amanda and her family owned Becky’s and went to the same church as he and his father did.

She took our order for three bacon cheeseburgers deluxe, one turkey burger, and four orders of steak fries to go without bothering to write any of it down. Chase added two large cokes for us while the food was being cooked. Amanda nodded, her high ponytail bouncing cheerfully as she turned and ran back behind the counter. I heard her put our order in through the window that faced into the kitchen as she grabbed two large cups from the stacks set off to the side. A few minutes later, she brought us each a tall, icy glass of coke with a hint of cherry syrup and an actual cherry floating at the top of the glass.

Amanda had given me a quick wink, “You seem like a cherry coke kind of girl, so I went ahead and made it myself.”

“Thanks,” I'd said, taking a small sip. It was fantastic. I’d never had an actual cherry coke that hadn’t come out of the can that way. “This is really great.” I smiled and tried really hard not to think about how much it tasted like Chase’s kiss the night I took Lust.

The diner was pretty hopping so we were able to relax without feeling like our entire conversation was being broadcast throughout the place. Amanda kept sneaking peeks at us as she flitted around from table to table, so we made sure to keep our voices low just in case.

“Do you think…” Chase started.

“No, he can’t really be…” I’d said at the same time.

“Did you see how he just…”

“Can you believe he smacked me on the…”

“Do you think he can really help us?” Chase had asked finally.

I sipped my cherry coke through a red and white striped straw and silently wondered the same thing. I wasn’t sure, but if he really was who he claimed to be, then maybe there was a chance he really could.

Fifteen minutes later, we left Becky’s with two white bags filled to capacity with our late lunch, or early dinner, depending on which way you looked at it. I was sorely tempted to reach into the bag carrying all the French fries, which had to have been almost an entire fryer basket's worth, but decided to control myself.

My control lasted all of the first three minutes once we were inside the car. The smell was overpowering and entirely too tempting to fight off any longer. As I reached into the bag and started eating, I passed it over to Chase who also reached in and grabbed a few, chewing as he drove.