Chapter 2What We Left in the Wreckage

Leo held his breath, watching me.

I simply plated the skewers and set them on the counter. “Enjoy.”

Jenna rested her chin in her hands, her eyes sparkling as she looked at Caleb. “Try it, baby. Does it taste like you remember?”

Suddenly, the metal stool next to their table was yanked back. Two beefy guys, shirtless and draped in gold chains, sat down heavily.

“Hey! Get us some ribs,” one of them barked.

They cracked open a case of beer they’d brought with them and started chugging, tossing a handful of crumpled bills onto my counter.

“Extra spicy,” the other one slurred. “If it ain’t got a kick, we ain’t paying.”

A few minutes and several beers later, they were wasted, catcalling me from their table.

“Hey, beautiful! How about some extra sausage? A guy’s gotta keep his strength up for later, you know?”

While their table grew louder, Caleb’s was unnervingly silent. Leo tried to get up and leave several times, but Caleb held him in place with a look. His eyes followed my every move, a detached curiosity in his gaze. He was probably wondering what sequence of failures had led me from a penthouse apartment to a grimy food truck on a Tuesday night.

I didn’t care. A customer was a customer.

And God, I needed the money.

One of the drunks told a filthy joke, and his table roared with laughter.

Jenna, however, was not amused. She could have just left. Instead, she stood up, walked over, and poured her entire beer over the bald head of the guy with the neck tattoo.

The sound of the plastic cup hitting his skull was a dull thud.

Beer and foam dripped down his face. He exploded, slamming the table and lunging to his feet.

Caleb instantly jumped up, pulling Jenna behind him. He yanked his wallet out, throwing a thick wad of cash onto their table. “That’s for the trouble. Now go find somewhere else to drink.”

I let out a cold laugh. If they left, my money left with them. In a flash, I snatched the cash from the table. Then I grabbed a half-full bottle of water and dumped it squarely over Jenna’s head.

“Ah! You… you bitch!” she shrieked.

Maybe that trip abroad had damaged her memory. She should have known better than to call me that.

I fisted the money in one hand and grabbed the front of her designer blouse with the other, stuffing the wet bills down her shirt.

For good measure, I slapped her. Hard.

“Keep that mouth of yours clean,” I said, my voice dangerously low. “Or I’ll be happy to sew it shut for you.”

The world went silent, the only sound the crackle of the embers on the grill.

“Sadie, are you insane…” Caleb started.

I spun around and slapped him, too.

He touched his lip, a slow, cruel smile spreading across his face. “You can hit me. But hitting my fiancée? That’s crossing a line. Jenna, baby, what do you say? How should we make her pay?”

Jenna clutched her cheek, fat tears welling in her eyes.

Caleb’s gaze swept over my small setup. “This is a nice little truck you’ve got here. How about we smash it up for you, Jenna? Would that make you feel better?”

Before I could react, he went berserk, grabbing racks of food and hurling them to the ground, kicking over tables and chairs, sending my entire livelihood crashing onto the greasy pavement.

The two drunks stared, mouths agape, looking from me to the enraged man demolishing my life. They scrambled away into the night.

I stared at the wreckage. Something inside me finally snapped. I launched myself at Jenna, grabbing a fistful of her bleached hair and pulling.

It took both Caleb and Leo to drag me off her.

In the end, all four of us ended up at the precinct.

As the cops put me in the car, I looked at the ruin of my truck. That was at least a thousand dollars in damages. Enough to cover a week of my chemo.

This was literally killing me.