Nearly Broken Read Online Free PDF

“It’s a dump and you know it.” I leaned
into my closet and tossed my purse atop the packed bag.
    “So you’re
used to better then?”
    Once upon a time,
before my parents passed away. But since then, no. “Sadly, it’s
nicer than the last place I lived.” White and gritty
windowless walls, cold cement floor, a single vent for poisoned
recycled air… I shook the thought from my head,
instinctively pulling at my sleeves again.
    It just dawned on me
that this was the first time that I’d ever had a guy in my
place since before , and it surprised me that having him here
didn’t bother me all that much.
    “Are you
hungry?” he asked, already pulling the refrigerator open. He
wasn’t going to like what he saw in there. “Wow,”
he deadpanned. “A jar of pickles, a water bottle that’s
been used five hundred times, a block of cheddar, and a half jar of
mayonnaise, but no sandwich fixings. I knew you were lying about
cooking at home.”
    “The food’s
all in the cabinet.” All things that were room temperature and
could be packed in just thirty seconds.
    He opened two empty
cabinets, giving me a look of disappointment each time, before
finding the one I used. Teasingly, he grabbed a bunch of saltine
packages I swiped from the diner, giving me a look that screamed Really? I just shrugged. Food was food. Nick pulled out a can
of chicken gumbo and held it up, silently asking for my approval, and
I nodded with a smirk.
    I only had two place
settings of everything and nothing matched. Nick grabbed one of the
bowls to microwave the soup in, saying, “FYI. This isn’t
cooking, it’s heating. And if this is what you have to come
home to, why wouldn’t you want to eat at the diner?”
    “Everything’s
greasy and makes me sick to my stomach. Sometimes I eat a salad, but
they’re not very filling.” But with all of the food Nick
made me this past week, this was the first time I had to eat anything
from my canned collection.
    That seemed to satisfy
him, and when the microwave beeped, I sat down on the sofa with my
dinner, Nick on the opposite end, angled towards me. “I’d
offer you your own bowl, but I’m pretty sure you’d scoff
at me if I did.”
    “You’d be
right. And I already ate tonight.”
    I scarfed down the
soup. Guess I was hungrier than I thought.
    “So what was
with the gun earlier?”
    He rubbed his chin,
seemingly regretful that I brought that up. “Not my normal
course of action, but I didn’t know why you yelled and I sure
as hell wasn’t going to wait to find out, so I just grabbed it
and ran.” A moment later, he sincerely added, “Sorry.”
    I shrugged one
shoulder and shook my head like I didn’t care. There were worse
people in the world to worry about. I supposed it didn’t hurt
to bring that jackass down a notch. Maybe Nick’s actions would
keep him from doing it to another girl anytime soon.
    “So what do you
do around here on your days off?”
    After swallowing a
mouthful of warm gumbo, I replied, “I don’t take days
off.”
    “ Ever? ”
    “Nope,” I
said, getting up and passing him on my way to the kitchen to clean my
bowl. “Can’t afford to.” And I hated being alone,
especially under the cover of darkness, which was why I had no
problem working the nightshift.
    Following me to the
kitchen, Nick asked, “Does Paul pay you enough?”
    “He pays me more
than he has to.” And in cash. Head down. Stay off the radar. “Paul knows the nightshift doesn’t get as many tables as
the day and that the clientele doesn’t tip as well. You’ve
been here a week now. You know that half the reason we’re there
is to keep the diner cleaned and stocked.”
    “Still. If you
have to work every day just to afford a place to stay, you should
probably find a better job.”
    “Nah. I prefer
the diner. It’s quiet and few out-of-towners come in.”
    My lungs inhaled a
fast breath. I shouldn’t have said that. I was becoming
too comfortable around Nick for my own good.