Todd isn't as quick to relax as I am. He gazes at his plate, no longer reaching for the fries.

"We're okay, kid," I assure him and lean over the counter to whack him on the arm. The movement reveals the scars along my inner arm, a constant reminder of what we're running from. "Promise."

He nods. "I'm almost big enough to take care of you."

"Almost. Until then, I'll take care of you." He hit a growth spurt this year and grew half a foot. He's my height now. While he doesn't yet tower over me, he definitely will by the end of the school year. "Go hide out in the corner and start your homework."

This time, there's no sigh or eye rolling or snarky response when he grabs his bag and stands. For once, I wish there was. I want him to be a normal teen whose biggest issues are homework and girls instead of a troubled kid who lives in a state of constant worry and fears trusting anyone.

A customer enters. I spot him in my peripheral.

"Take a seat anywhere you like," I call automatically.

"Thanks."

Male, great physical shape, walks with a slight limp. I don't bother looking at him directly; I keep my senses honed to detect anything about those around me that's suspicious, so I can spot danger before it finds me. I've become a spy novel enthusiast of sorts, and use what tips I pick up to remain always cognizant of my surroundings and anyone new.

Grabbing a menu, napkin with utensils rolled within it and a glass of water, I neatly skirt the counter and go to the booth. "Just you?" I ask and set down the contents of my hands.

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"I'm expecting company."

"One more?"

"Hopefully."

At the wry amusement in his gravelly tone, I look up and meet striking blue eyes in a cleanly shaven face with chiseled cheekbones and a heavy jaw. His crooked nose shows signs of having been broken more than once, and there's a scar down one cheek. The combination on another man might make him rough, but on this one, it renders him charmingly roguish. His look is direct, eyes sparkling with mischief, intelligence and … awareness. Like a cop or soldier. The town has plenty of both. He's wearing a dark sweater and jeans, and his brown hair is in a high-and-tight. His woodsy scent is too faint to be cologne. Aftershave probably, high end.

I can't recall the last time I noticed a man. It's been at least four or five years, since the madness that is my life began.




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