Page 15 of Cueball & Double-Z (Alpha’s Rejects #5)

It was day three.

Three days, Cueball had said.

Today was our last day of safety and comfort.

A week living in a car was enough to do in even the strongest person, and I tried so hard to be strong for Gio, who’d been really struggling with self-worth.

I just watched helplessly as he diminished more and more.

Withdrawing from me. His self-loathing was growing each day.

He was smoking more, too. Cueball was also a smoker. I hated it. They both needed to quit.

It didn’t help Gio that Cueball had come to our rescue. While it was wonderful that we’d found someone so thoughtful, I understood Gio saw it as some sort of failure on his part. Something had to change soon, or I was going to lose him, especially after our talk the first night.

When he told me I’d be better off without him, I nearly died.

He was so fucking wrong. We belonged together.

And he needed me as much as I needed him.

I could tell because everything he’d done was to help me.

If he didn’t love me, he wouldn’t have tried so hard or felt so guilty. It hurt my heart that he thought that.

So now, my two main goals were to find a job and to convince Cueball to let us stay. I couldn’t let Gio shoulder our entire burden.

While I didn’t know much about Cueball, and he’d deflected most of my curious questions, I was enthralled by him.

There was something mysterious going on with him.

He was hiding something or running from something.

Not physically running, but mentally. I could tell he tried to hide all that he was from us.

But I was pretty observant. Not that Cueball was that hard to read.

The deflection and his not telling us his name were a sure sign of someone hiding from something.

He didn’t want us to know him for some reason.

It could’ve been because he didn’t want to get attached to us when he kicked us out.

That was a possibility. But something told me it was more than that.

Despite his emotionally locked doors, he was a good soul. I could feel it. He had to be to help the homeless and take Gio and me in for a few days. He was a rare find. People weren’t usually as empathetic as that.

The late morning was cold as hell, and the snow had hardly melted away, piled up high in areas from the plows. At least the sidewalk and roads were clear.

My hands were shoved into the pockets of my worn coat as I made my way toward the deli sandwich place near Cueball’s apartment called Ezra’s Delicatessen.

I passed by it yesterday and saw a sign in the window that they were hiring someone to prepare the sandwiches. I didn’t need to speak for that, right?

Even better, there was a pride sticker on the glass door.

When I stepped inside the hole-in-the-wall restaurant, I was hit with the scent of fresh bread. I took a deep breath and exhaled with a smile.

The place may have been a dive, but I bet the locals loved it.

“Can I help you?” said a man in his late fifties, wearing a stained white T-shirt and a black apron over it. He was huge, but not like Cueball, who was solid. This man was soft and round. You could tell he enjoyed good food, and I loved that. His sandwiches were probably amazing.

Like Cueball, he was also bald, though only on the top of his head, which was crowned with salt-and-pepper hair.

I stepped up to the counter and waved at him with a smile before pulling out the laminated card hanging around my neck that I’d use for moments like this. I lifted it to show him that while I couldn’t speak, I could hear just fine.

He leaned in, squinting as he read it. Then he stood and nodded. “What can I getcha?”

I pointed at the hiring sign in the window, then pointed at myself.

“You need a job?”

I nodded and smiled, pulling out my notepad and pen. I quickly wrote on it, then showed it to him. I’m a hard worker. On time. Learn quickly.

“Well, you’re in luck. I haven’t had any takers. Sign’s been out there for over a week, and I’m strugglin’ to keep up. It’s busy come lunchtime.”

I quickly wrote out another note. I can start now. How much ?

He raised a thick, dark brown brow. “You sure you can learn that fast?”

I shrugged and nodded before pointing at my previous note, saying that I’m a fast learner.

He pushed off the counter and nodded with a smile on his face. “Okay, then. I pay thirteen bucks an hour. No more than that. This job ain’t full-time. Got it?”

I nodded quickly.

Between Gio and me, we could be making twenty-seven bucks an hour. That would really help and make Gio feel a lot better. We could save money in no time for a new apartment. Or even better, pay Cueball some rent.

“I’m Ezra Abramson.”

I waved to him, reining in my excited smile before writing my name down and showing it to him. Cole MacGregor.

“Well, Cole. Come on back then. We’ll get you an apron, and I’ll show you the ropes. It’ll be busy. So get ready.”

I wasn’t worried. Once I knew where everything was, basic assembly lines would be easy. Even better, he was nice enough not to ask prying questions as to why I could hear but not talk .

Once Ezra showed me where everything was and how to arrange the meats and cheeses on the bread, the rest was easy, with customers choosing which extras they wanted or not. I breezed right through it.

Sometimes, customers tried to get me to talk when they were frustrated, but Ezra quickly took that off my hands with absolutely no complaint from him.

I knew right then that this would be my place to work for a while.

My new boss was surprisingly patient, and something I desperately needed, making my job that much easier.

By five o’clock, when he closed for the day, only opening for the lunch and afternoon crowd, he handed me eighty bucks, paying me under the table. Instant cash. Nice!

‘Thank you,’ I signed to him, since most people understood that much.

“You’re welcome, kid. Now, let’s go to the back toward my closet of an office and get your paperwork sorted out. I can’t pay cash every day.”

We stepped into his office, and it was definitely like being in a large closet, crammed with a tiny wooden desk, a metal chair, and paperwork strewn everywhere.

The walls were covered with old photos of a younger him, bowling.

He’d been thinner, with thick black hair, slicked back and wavy. He was pretty handsome back then.

“You live alone? Gotta family?” he asked as he dug in one of his drawers, pulling out a folder. After he opened it up, he pulled out some employment forms, shrugging. “Don’t gotta computer here. No damn room.”

It’s fine. I live with my stepbrother and a friend . It was too much to write more than that on my notepad.

“Good that you got someone. I live with my wife, Martha, goin’ on… Damn, I suppose about thirty years now. Kids are grown and moved on with their lives.”

I jotted down on my paper. Congratulations.

He read it and chuckled. “It ain’t always easy, but I’ve had a pretty good life.”

Ezra dug around in his middle drawer, moving things around until he pulled out a pen, but I wiggled mine, already having one, so he tossed it back into his desk .

I pointed at the wall with the photos, and he turned to look back at them. “Ah, yeah. Used to be in a league. Won a few championships back in the day. Don’t play much anymore, but I do miss it at times.”

Sounds fun. I like skateboarding.

He read my note and smiled thoughtfully. “Having a hobby is always rewarding.”

After I got my paperwork all filled out, we stepped out of his office and back into the dining area. Ezra told me to wait as he made some sandwiches. He wrapped them up in deli paper and shoved them into a paper bag.

I assumed he wanted to take some dinner home to his wife before he locked up.

Little did I know he’d hand them to me. God, he was so nice.

My eyes watered at his kindness. Most people weren’t always that nice, but sometimes you’d come across some special people.

Angels. I wasn’t a big believer in God, but I knew people like Gio, Ezra, and Cueball were the special angels of the world, put on this earth to do great things. Gio just didn’t know it yet.

I rushed at my new boss and hugged him, uncaring that he was covered in food from the day. Hell, so was I.

“You’re welcome, kiddo,” he said again, chuckling and patting my back.

Since I didn’t have a key to Cueball’s apartment, I knocked on the door.

I wasn’t sure he’d be home yet since he had a full-time job.

Gio was still at work himself. He’d be there until ten tonight.

There wasn’t an answer, so I slid onto the floor, opened the paper bag, and pulled out a sandwich.

I unwrapped it, and my stomach growled loudly at the scent of tuna salad on whole wheat bread, my favorite.

My mouth watered, too. I hadn’t eaten since this morning when I made myself some toast and eggs.

I took a large bite and groaned. Damn, Ezra made some damn fine tuna salad. And it was huge! Like, there was no way I could finish it all.

I managed to eat a third of it before I felt stuffed. After wrapping it back up, I shoved it back into the bag. There was nothing left to do but wait. Waiting was boring when you didn’t have a phone or a book to read .

Stretching out my legs, I crossed them at the ankles, rested my head against the wall next to the door, and closed my eyes. I wasn’t tired, but what else was there to do but get lost in thoughts.

My mind kept drifting back to my past, when life was easier and happier.

I’d done my best to block most of it out.

Without therapy, I had to shove things away into the little boxes in my mind to deal with later or never at all.

It was simpler that way, and it helped with the anxiety.

But I’d mentally gotten better with time.

Instead, I forced my thoughts to focus on Cueball, our kind benefactor, even if it was only temporarily.