Page 28 of Cinder (MC Fables #2)

E lla

It’s Thursday. Two days have gone by in an exhausting blur.

Mrs. V. keeps me busy. It’s hard work, but by the end of the day when my feet hurt, and my muscles are aching, and I slip into my squeaky bed at the motel, I feel a contentment I’ve never known.

I’m getting faster in the kitchen, but Mrs. V. still acts like I’m a human disappointment, although I think a lot of her gruffness is an act, because a few times I’ve caught her humming songs and moving her hips when she thinks I’m not there.

They are long days, and by the time I catch the 6:45 bus back to the Blue Lagoon Motel, I’m dead on my feet and dreading the check-in call from Luca .

But once I hang up from him, I curl up in my bed and fall asleep watching TV, knowing I am one step further away from escaping my evil half-brother.

I’ve only managed to get to the library once since Lars has been gone. But a stunning blonde woman was inside, curled up on the couch with her nose buried in a book, and a baby asleep in her arms.

Not wanting to disturb her, I left before she noticed me.

Now it’s Thursday morning, and tonight there’s a party in the clubhouse bar for someone’s birthday. Despite Lars and the others being gone, there is a hum of celebration in the air.

Although I don’t think Mrs. V. got the memo.

When I arrive, she is in an awful mood.

“Okay, what side of the bed did you get out of?” I ask, trying to make light of her mood.

She swings her head to look at me. “What are you talking about?”

“Because whatever side you got out of this morning, it’s the wrong one.” I give her a bright, cheeky smile, but my attempt at light heartedness bombs.

In fact, I don’t think she even hears me.

She stands at the kitchen counter with her eyes closed, and she draws in a deep breath.

“Hey, are you okay?” I ask, putting a gentle hand on the back of her shoulder .

“You know, sometimes the world we live in is just a shitty, shitty world.” To emphasize her point, she picks up her handbag and bangs it down on the counter, again and again.

“What happened?” I ask.

But she ignores me.

“The strong are meant to protect the weak. Like these boys do.” Her emotions get the better of her, and she stops to bite back a cry. “Poor Edith Clooney got her bag snatched by some little punk while checking her mailbox on her way out to the store yesterday.”

“Who is Edith Clooney?”

“My neighbor. She’s elderly. And this little prick saw she was frail and knocked her down to steal her bag.”

“That’s awful, I’m so sorry. Is she okay?”

“She’s shaken. Afraid to go out now. Boy, if I had been there, I would’ve punched the coward in the face.”

That surprises me.

But I can see it.

Mrs. V. punching her fist into the little asshole’s face.

“I mean, he could see how old and timid she was. But he still did it.” She shakes her head. “Makes me worried about the world we’re leaving behind for our kids.”

I pour her a cup of coffee, add a teaspoon of creamer, and slide it in front of her.

“No more than a teaspoon. Just how you like it. ”

“And how do you know that?”

“I have eyes,” I say, giving her a cheeky wink.

She finally gives me a chuckle as she sniffs back her tears. “Thank you.”

Keenly, I watch as she takes a sip, waiting for her reaction.

I don’t know why I want her approval so badly. But I do.

And when she sighs with appreciation and takes a bigger mouthful, it feels like I just won the lottery.

“Good?” I ask.

She nods. “Very good.”

I only hold back from clapping because I know she’d roll her eyes at me.

The sound of Mr. Peters’s truck on the gravel outside draws our attention to the window.

“Oh, goodness,” Mrs. V. says, hastily putting down her coffee and patting at her panda eyes. “He’ll think I’m a wreck.”

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” I say, shooing her toward the walk-in pantry so she can collect herself while I distract the friendly milkman.

“Good morning, Ella,” Mr. Peters says cheerfully, when he walks in carrying a tray of milk cartons.

“Good morning, Mr. Peters. You look very handsome today. You’ve had a haircut.”

He smiles cheerfully, chuffed by the compliment. “Well, thank you. Yes, I did. Nice of you to notice. ”

But I quickly lose his attention when Mrs. V. emerges from the pantry looking cheery, her makeup fixed, and her smile bright.

One glimpse of her and the expression on Mr. Peters face tells me everything.

He’s got a crush.

A big crush.

Mrs. V. feigns surprise at Mr. Peters’s arrival. “Good morning, Luther.”

And she clearly feels the same way.

He gives her a big smile. “How are you, Val? Looking lovely as always.”

“Oh, you old flirt, I look a wreck.”

“You could never look a wreck. Not someone as lovely as you.”

I walk away to give them some privacy.

A small grin on my lips.

Maybe tomorrow, I won’t have to peel as many potatoes.

Just before my shift ends, I’m wiping down the long counter when an older lady with long blonde hair and bright blue eyes appears in front of me.

She gives me a warm smile. “So you’re the new girl. ”

“That’d be me,” I say with a bright smile. “I’m Ella.”

“Nice to meet you, Ella, I’m Demri.” She smiles as she leans against the counter. “I’m actually here to ask a favor.”

“Sure, how can I help?”

“I look after the clubhouse bar, and one of the girls I had rostered on has called in sick. Usually I would battle on without her, but it’s Opie’s birthday celebrations, and I’d prefer some help if you’re up to it. How are you at flipping beer tops and pouring whiskey?”

I’ve never flipped a beer top or poured a whiskey in my life.

But this will be a good opportunity for me to gain some trust, maybe overhear something that could be useful. I might even get a chance to sneak into the library.

“I’m your girl,” I say with way more confidence than I have.

I’ll have to clear it with Luca, and the thought twists in my gut like a knife because he likes to make me jump through hoops any chance he can get.

“You’re a sweetheart, thank you. Meet me in the bar when you’re done here, okay?”

When she leaves the kitchen, I text Luca and let him know I won’t be home in time for curfew. I chew a nail waiting for his reply, because if he says no then I don’t know how I’ll get out of it with Demri. I don’t know her, and I don’t owe her anything, but the idea of letting her down feels lousy.

Thankfully Luca is quick to text back.

Keep your eyes and ears open. You need to give me something to give to Viktor.

Which is going to be a problem, because no one says anything while I’m around.

My phone pings with another text.

And you are to be back at the motel no later than midnight.

Knowing I have to keep Luca thinking he is in control, I text back.

Of course.

Then I shove my phone back into my pocket and finish tidying up so I can meet Demri in the bar.