No Second Chances by Marissa Farrar Read Free Book Online Page B

noisy place, pans crashing and banging, meat sizzling, and people shouting orders to one another, but, beneath it all, a commotion sounded from the front of house. I glanced over my shoulder, wondering what was going on. It was normally a pretty chilled out place to work, but something was definitely up. I heard shouts, and a plate crashed.
    One of the waitresses burst into the kitchen, her gaze flicking across the space until it landed on me.
    “Hey, Cole,” she yelled. “We need you out front. Some asshole is having a fit about his meal.”
    “Can’t you handle it?”
    “No, we need you.”
    I was never asked to be front of house. The owner didn’t think I would be good for business. But most of the people working out front were women—the hostess and waitresses. Perhaps they just needed someone who appeared a little intimidating. I figured I fit that bill.
    I dropped the potatoes I was peeling, the vegetables splashing into the muddy water, and barely stopped to wipe my hands on the apron I wore.
    Shouts filtered through to the kitchen, and, as I pushed open the door, they grew louder. A small group had gathered in a circle around someone who was standing at the end of a table, a clutter of broken crockery at his feet. Asshole. Who the hell came into a restaurant to start a fight?
    I squared my shoulders, fully planning on grabbing this guy and throwing him out of the door. I couldn’t afford to get myself in any more trouble, but I figured there were enough witnesses around to explain how I was the one trying to put this to an end, not start it. I sensed Deano at my shoulder. He’d also been working in the kitchen, and I knew I had backup. As I pushed through the small crowd, one of the waitresses—a tiny woman in her fifties—tried to placate the man.
    “Stupid bitch,” said the guy. “If my meal is tasteless, I ain’t gonna pay for it!”
    “But you ate the whole thing …” She was still trying to reason with him.
    The man must have noticed the movement in the crowd as I approached, and his head whipped toward me. The moment he locked eyes with me, I froze in surprise. What was it with people crawling out of the woodwork at the moment? Or perhaps it was just that I’d been away for so long. Everyone else had been around this whole time.
    Ryan.
    He straightened, his eyes widening. “Fuck me, Cole Devonport.”
    To my astonishment, he apparently forgot the scene he’d created and strolled toward me. With me stunned into inaction, he grabbed my hand and shook it, smacking me on the shoulder with his other hand. I could feel everyone staring, trying to connect the two of us. Plenty of people knew about my prison stay, and I didn’t want to be associated with the likes of Ryan Becks. My reputation was bad enough as it was.
    I dragged my fingers out of his hold and took a step back. “I think you need to leave, Ryan.”
    “Now is that the way to greet an old friend?”
    I scowled. “We’re not friends. We never were.”
    He barked a laugh. “No? You could have fooled me.”
    “Leave, Ryan, or we’ll call the cops.”
    He gave a smug smile. “You know the police pretty well by now, don’t you?”
    I balled my fists, resisting the urge to lunge for him and break his face. I kept my tone even, though anger bubbled beneath the surface. “This is your last chance. Turn around and walk away, or the police are going to be called.”
    He gave a nonchalant shrug. “No problem. I didn’t want to stay in this shit hole any longer, anyway.” He turned, and for a moment I thought he was going to leave without any more trouble, but then he spun back to me. “Hey, how’s that piece of skirt you used to hang out with? Gabriella, wasn’t it? Is she still as fit as she was back then?” He chuckled. “I remember how she was always gagging for it.”
    A red haze descended over my vision, and I was no longer aware of any of the people around us, or how I was supposed to be protecting my already ruined