Before Now (Sometimes Never) (33 page)

Kimmie
drops across from me, propping her feet on either side of my thighs. “I’m dragging tonight.”

“I know,” I
empathize. “Me too.” I pull my phone out of my apron, checking the time. “Only two more hours and we’re free.”

“Blah. Two whole hours? I wanna be done
now
.” She lays her cheek on the table and closes her eyes. “Wake me up if I get a table or if Hugh wanders out of the office.”

I chuckle at that. This late, it’s a guarantee Hugh’s fast asleep at his desk. “Will do.”

The bell above the door chimes and Kimmie groans. “I’ll babysit free for life if you get this one.”

“I’ll take it,” I say, swallowing my last bite of muffin. I eye the two guys that just came in and click my tongue. “And you’re off the hook for the free babysitting.”

She raises her head. “Why?”

I nod my head toward the door and she follows my gaze. “Oh, man. They’re hot.”
She lets her head fall back to the table. “Get me a number if you can.”

“For your list?”

“Mm-hm. I’m always on the lookout for the list.”

I laugh quietly as I head over to the new customers. “Hi guys,” I greet. “Just the two of you?”

“Yep,” the taller one confirms, smiling.

I grin back at him as I grab menus. “Okay. Right this way,” I say, leading them to a table in my section.

“You guys are slow tonight,” the shorter one says.

“The bar rush has come and gone. It’s nice to slow down.” I wink at him. “And that just means you get extra attention.”

He laughs. “Any attention from you will make my night.”

I smile bigger as I pull out my notepad. I’m pregnant—
not dead. Flirting is part of the job. The more I flirt, the better my tips. And these guys are nice. I get their orders in and go back to the kitchen to make sure Rob, the cook on shift tonight, got the order. He likes to sit outside and smoke when we’re slow like this.

“Got it Lu,” he calls before I make it all the way back. I reverse and fill the guys
’ drinks instead. And then I take a minute to refill the straws and put on a new pot of coffee.

The bell chimes again and I round the corner, glasses in hand. “I’ll be right there,” I say. The man steps in front of me, opening his jacket. Everything slows down as my eyes focus on his hand, dipping into his inside pocket.
I know before I see it. I know what he’s getting and my hands start to shake. The condensation on the outside of the glasses makes them slippery and they slide out of my trembling fingers, falling to the floor. Shattered glass flies in every direction and my legs are covered in icy cold fountain drinks.

“Open the register,” he shouts as the gun appears in front of my face. “NOW.”

But I can’t move. It’s like one of those dreams I used to have where I try to run away from the monster, but my legs won’t work, so I try to scream, but nothing comes out.

But I hear
Kimmie scream. My gaze is stuck to the gun, inches from my nose.

“Hey, man,” someone says. “Be cool.”

“Put your hands on the table,” he bellows. “Open the register,” he says again and I can hear desperation in his voice. That kicks me into action. I raise my hands in front of me, palms up, as I back toward the counter. If I just hurry up and give him what he wants, he’ll leave. And if I can get behind the register, I can protect my stomach.

Protect my baby.

A strangled cry erupts from my throat with the thought.

I swipe my card and tap in the code, opening the drawer. I start plucking the cash out,
laying it on the counter between us. When I get all the bills, I eye the coin rolls. I don’t know if he wants them too, but I’m not about to ask. I scoop them up and lay them on top.

“That’s it,” I
say, my voice shaking over the words. “That’s everything.”

“Empty your apron,” he demands. His head turns from me to the guys at the table. Back and forth quickly. The guys are watching him, their hands flat on the table.
Kimmie is standing perfectly still just outside the booth she was napping in.

I reach into my apron pocket and the first thing I feel is my phone. My mind flashes to Park. To the last image of him, sitting on the couch, video game controller in his hand, smiling at me as he told me he loved me.

I’m so glad he didn’t come with me tonight. I close my eyes and exhale, moving past my phone—I need that so I can call him when this is over—to the wad of tip money. That’s all this guy wants. Just give him what he wants and he’ll leave.

I slap it down and slide sideways, trying to put more space between us. He starts shoving everything into a carry-out bag, the gun waving around with his every move. I put my hands over my belly, over the small bump.

Please just leave now. Please just go.

“You, get over here,” the man barks. “NOW.”

My head swings to Kimmie as she stumbles her way between the tables, her legs quivering so badly she can barely take a step without falling. She stops several feet away, her hands out in front of her.

“Empty your apron,” he instructs. He holds the bag open
, but she has to come closer in order to put her money inside. She shakes her head, refusing to go near him. “Now, bitch,” he spits. I hear the gun click and I jump at the ominous sound.

“
Kimmie,” I plead. The man swings my way, the gun shifting back to me and I flinch. “Do what he says.”

He turns back to her and I start trying to memorize what he looks like. Black jacket, blue jeans, gray baseball cap, brown hair. What color were his eyes? It doesn’t matter.

Black jacket, blue jeans, gray baseball cap, brown hair.

Kimmie
finally drops the cash into the bag and ducks quickly behind the counter. She clings to me, sobbing into my neck.

Black jacket, blue jeans, gray baseball cap, brown hair.

“Come around the counter,” the man yells.

I’m shaking so badly I feel like I’m going to throw up. I have to p
ush Kimmie to get her to move and we scuttle away from the little protection we had.

Bl
ack jacket, blue jeans, gray baseball cap, brown hair.

“Get down on the floor,” he screams.

I slide down immediately, pulling Kimmie with me. She’s crying louder now.

Black jacket, blue jeans, gray baseball cap, brown hair. I look up and note that his eyes are green.

Black jacket, blue jeans, gray baseball cap, brown hair, green eyes.

I’m still looking into his eyes when the gunshot rings out.

44

Park

I woke
up for the fourth time and couldn’t fall back to sleep. The bed feels so empty without Lucy. Deciding I’ll stop in and surprise her, I take a quick shower, and make her a bagel with the fruit spread she likes.

There’s only a little over an hour left in her shift, but I’ll at least get that hour before she goes home to sleep
and I have to go to school. I’ll take what I can get. I laugh at myself, getting up before the sun just to spend a few minutes with my girl. I never thought I’d see this day.

I turn the corner and the flashing lights catch my attention right away, but it takes me a moment to realize they’re coming from the diner. My foot hits the brake, jerking me to a st
op in the middle of the street.

Terror seizes
me with an unrelinquishing grip. I squeeze the steering wheel to keep my hands steady as I step back on the gas pedal. A small group of onlookers are gathered on the corner, and I can’t go any further, so I pull next to them. It takes two attempts to get my door open once I’ve thrown the gear into park.

“Someone was shot,” I hear someone say. I trip over the curb, catching myself at the last second.

“What’d you just say?” I choke.

“Someone was shot,” the woman says excitedly. “Some guy shot up the place. Robbery I think.”

No.

No. She’s wrong. She has to be wrong.

I propel myself forward and an officer stops me as I approach the building. He places his palm on my chest as I try to move around him. “You can’t go in there right now.”

“My girlfriend works here,” I
practically shout. “What happened?” I grip his wrist, ready to toss him off me.

“Armed robbery,” he informs me. “Was your girlfriend working tonight?”

“Yes,” I say urgently. “Lucy Braden. She’s a waitress.” I look past his shoulder in an attempt to see through the glass doors as I use my whole body to push him back. “Is she okay? Can I go see her? Please?”

“Sir, I need you to calm down and listen to me.” I shake my head and shove him back. I just want to see Lucy. I just need to see her.

The officer grabs my arm and I jerk away. I make it two quick steps before he wraps his arm over my shoulder, crossing it over my chest. And now another cop’s joined in, taking my neck into a choke hold. Between the two of them, I can’t move.

“Sir,” the first cop pants. “If you calm down I can try to get you some information, but you
have
to cooperate with us.”

What the fuck is wrong with me?
I’m struggling with the police and I have no idea where Lucy is. I stop fighting as realization hits, piercing through my panicked brain. “I’m calm,” I rasp. “I’m calm. Just tell me she’s okay.” My voice drops as I plead with him to reassure me the images swirling through my head aren’t true.

They release me slowly and I rub my hand over my chin. My fingers are shaking so fucking bad as the first officer says something into his radio.

“What’s your name?” the second one asks me.

“
Par—Park Reed. I’m looking for Lucy Braden.”

The first one turns back to me and I can tell it’s bad. I can see it on his face. I take a step back as if that will make the news change.

God no.

Please no
.

“Both females were taken to Roddenberry
about ten minutes ago.”

Ten minutes ago. While I was driving over here, Lucy was in the back of an ambulance.

Oh, my God.

“That’s all the more I know right now,” he continues. “I suggest you go up to the hospital.” He pauses
, placing his hand on my arm. “They only let family in,” he adds.

It takes a second
for that to register through my fear-filled thoughts as I run toward my car. Just a few feet away, I’m stopped by my cell phone chirping in my pocket.

I fish it out quickly, nearly dropping it. Lucy’s name on th
e screen blurs my vision as moisture fills my eyes. “Hello?” I croak.

“Park?” Lucy breathes and my legs give out. I hit the ground, knees first, and catch myself with my free hand as the tears spill over.

“Lucy, baby,” I murmur. “Lucy. Lucy.” I can’t stop saying her name. I try to get a handle on it, but the relief is so overwhelming, I just keep weeping like a child. “Are you all right? Tell me you’re all right.”

She sniffles and my stomach twists. I squeeze the phone as my head spins. “I’m okay,” she says, her voice
small.

“The baby…”

“The baby’s okay too. They’re going to do an ultrasound to be sure, but the heartbeat…the heartbeat was go-good.” She’s silent for a moment and I’m thanking God over and over as I kneel in the road. “Kimmie,” Lucy cries as she releases a sob. “He killed Kimmie, Park. She’s dead. She’s—” Her words catch and she begins to cry audibly.

“I’m on my way, Lucy. I’m coming right now. Just keep talking to me.”

I shove myself up and rip the door open.

“I can’t believe she’s gone.”
She begins to cry harder and my heart is breaking for her.

“Baby, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m almost there.”

“Please…hurry. I need you.”

Fuck. Fuck
. “I’m hurrying. I love you, Lucy. I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” She grows quiet, crying quietly into the phone. I don’t say anythi
ng else, just letting her get it out.

“I’m pulling into the ER right now. Where are you?”

“I’m in the waiting area. I’ll meet you at the doors.” The line goes dead and I hate the way it makes me feel. I need to see her. I need to touch her.

I tuck my phone into my pants and run. The doors slide open and she slams into me. My hands glide over her back as I hug her to me. I swear I search nearly every inch of her, checking for any injuries
beneath her blood stained clothes. She presses her face against my neck and I hold her tightly.

My skin grows wet
from her tears and I’m at a loss for words. Nothing I can say will make this better. And as horrible as I feel, I can’t stop being grateful it wasn’t her.

***

Lucy hasn’t let go of the sonogram since the doctor placed it in her hand. She even holds it now while she sleeps, wrapped securely in Bree’s arms. It seems to be the only thing keeping her together.