Page 36 of Saving Helena

"Helena, can I talk to you for a moment?" he asked, his voice low and urgent.

I nodded, grateful for the distraction. "Sure, Dimitri. What's up?" I asked, following him to a quieter corner of the diner. “But I have tables, so I can’t talk long.” Waving towards the dining room, I indicated the diners who had filled up the space.

Once we were out of earshot of the other customers, Dimitri fixed me with a severe gaze, crossing his vast arms over his chest. I rolled my eyes, unable to help myself. If he thought he would intimidate me, he had another thing coming.

"Maddox wanted me to come and check on you. Make sure that you were handling things here.”

“And?" I asked. There must be another part to this. “What else?”

“Well,” he hesitated. “He wanted to see if I could get you to return to the club early,” he finished hurriedly. “Is that something you’d consider doing? Coming back?”

“Well, you can say you asked.” Offering him a small but reassuring smile. "I appreciate you checking on me," I said, grateful for his concern. “Really. I can’t leave early. I need this job. The tips here are great. I know Maddox told you about what happened in Phoenix.” He nodded imperceptibly, so I pushed on. “There’s no way that I can just hang out here. I’ll need to move on once Maddox has my ID ready. So …” I waved to my Duck t-shirt. “Got to make some cash,” I finished like it was self-explanatory, even though something about it felt dishonest.

Dimitri's expression softened, his eyes reflecting sympathy and maybe understanding. "I get it. We’ll handle that whole mess, though, Helena. You don’t need to worry about it.” Sensing that I was about to protest some more, he held up a hand. “What time are you done? Maddox will want to know," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“Not until seven. Graveyard.” I shrugged. It was not my preferred shift, but given the biker and trucker crowd, it had been busy so that I couldn’t complain. I was floating on coffee at this point, though not having been acclimated to working the shift, I had already been up all night.

“Someone will be here to check on you, but you have a vehicle, right?”

I nodded gratefully, touched by his protective instinct. “Yeah, I took a car. Thanks, Dimitri. I appreciate it," I replied. “Really.”

Dimitri nodded before glancing back at his booth, where his untouched coffee had been forgotten. "I should get going. Be careful, Helena," he said, his voice gentle as he gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

I watched him go. Despite our earlier disagreement, Dimitri changed his tune about me. That hatred that I’d initially felt was gone. Coming here had been the only choice I could have made at the time, but there were pieces that I’d not known about at the time — Dimitri was one of them.

Snapping myself out of it, I went back to work. There were customers to feed, coffee to make, and a grumpy Vito to placate. He might be hunky, but I could see why he might chase off servers. Losing myself in the breakfast rush, I put my head down and returned to work.

Nearly an hour later, I approached a new table and smiled at the group. But as I got closer, a sense of unease washed over me, prickling at the back of my neck. Keeping a smile on my face was an effort, and suddenly, I was sorry that Dimitri had left.

“Hey, how’re you doing? Welcome to the Odd Duck. Are you ready to order, or do you need more time?” I made sure that I maintained eye contact. “Coffee?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady despite the nervous fluttering in my stomach.

The group sitting at the table consisted of four men, their suit jackets making them stand out in the small diner as anomalies. This was so bad. My heart skipped a beat as I took in their slicked-back hair and cold eyes, and my hand tightened around the edge of my notepad.

"Coffee," one of the men muttered in a heavy accent. His gaze lingered on me in a way that made my skin crawl.

I nodded, quickly scribbling down the order before retreating to the relative safety of the kitchen. As I grabbed the coffee pot, my mind raced with thoughts of what to do next. I wasn’t sure if I was overreacting, but I didn’t want to cause a scene or draw attention to myself. Maybe I should have paid more attention or asked more questions about this contact that Maddox discussed. He’d said he had one with the Volkov Bratva; perhaps these were people he knew? If these were Makarovich’s men, they would have just grabbed me. Right?

It was just another table, I reminded myself. Trying to push aside the fear that threatened to overwhelm me, I gathered up the coffee pot and returned to the table, praying that this would pass without incident.

I approached the table with the coffee pot in hand. The men’s eyes followed my every move, lingering too long for comfort. However, I forced myself to maintain a professional demeanor, plastering on a polite smile as I refilled their cups.

"Here you go, gentlemen. Fresh coffee," I said, my voice steady despite the nervousness in my stomach.

But as I turned to leave, one of the men reached out to slap my ass. My heart skipped a beat as I froze, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end.

"Hey there, sweetheart," he said, his voice low and gravelly. "You're not in a hurry, are you? Why don't you keep us company for a while?"

I swallowed hard, trying to keep the fear from showing on my face. "I'm sorry, but I have other tables to attend to.” My voice shook slightly despite my best efforts to sound composed. It wasn’t like it hadn’t happened before, but it wasn’t the actual slap that made me so afraid. Suddenly, coming out here seemed monumentally stupid. Not leaving with Dimitri seemed childish.

But the man didn’t seem to take the hint, his grip tightening on my wrist as he leaned closer. "Aw, come on now. Don't be like that. We want to have a little fun," he said, a leering grin spreading across his face.

My heart pounded as I stepped back, my eyes flashing with defiance. "I'm sorry, but I do need to get back to work,” I said, my voice firm despite the tremor of fear that ran through me.

The man's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing as he sized me up. For a moment, my heart stopped, fearing the worst as his eyes went still beneath their surface, but then he released me with a grunt of annoyance.

"Fine, go on,” he muttered, shooting me one last glare before returning to his coffee.

I breathed a sigh of relief as I made my escape, the tension draining from my body as I retreated to the safety of the kitchen. I couldn’t shake the unease lingering in my stomach—it had gotten a lot more complicated tonight.