Scarred (Scorching Soldier's #1)

Part 6

"Drag me close so I can push my limbs away
And feel the air surround the space that we create.
            It's you, you make me feel the things that I want to."
- You, Henry Green

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Chapter 6
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ZOEY

He was the last person I was expecting to see. I doubted he knew I worked at the cafe, considering his anxious departure last week. Don't exactly know why, but he didn't seem too eager to talk to me.

Gage was so full of mysteries that I had wanted in on. To be completely honest, it had looked like he'd needed a friend. The distance in him was quite palpable. I could tell on first glance that he wasn't happy at that party. He was trying to forget. He had a very readable face.

As he walks through the cafe doors, I freeze and my breath gets stuck in my throat. I recognise him almost immediately - not like you could miss his large form anyway. Then I catch a quick glimpse of his face beneath the hood. My eyes widen further. He's bleeding.

I watch as he sits in a booth at the back of the establishment, on the left side so he's facing the wall. Presumably so no one can see him. My palms get sweaty as I debate if I should go over there and serve him, or leave it to Liam. As I say, he didn't seem open to talking to me the last time I'd seen him, and he especially didn't look approachable tonight. Looked like there were some demons surfacing.

They were similar to my brothers when he'd first gotten back.

The parallels have me grabbing a notepad and pen and warily walking over there. It wasn't busy at the cafe. I only had two tables to serve, both of which I had already brought food to, so there was no pressure for me to rush. There was only an hour until closing, and even then Liam was closing up so I didn't need to wait behind.

I stand by his table and my heart races. "Umm, hi Gage."

My voice seems to catch him off guard and he jolts his head to look at me. Yup, he definitely wasn't expecting to see me. He looks anxious, as if he's scared of me judging him. Wish I could ease his thoughts since I would be the last person to judge him in a negative way.

I cock my head and rest a hand against the wooden table between the booths. "How are you?" I ask sincerely.

He pulls his hood further down and covers the right side of his face with his hand. "Just peachy, sweetheart." His voice is low and hoarse and the words are mumbled.

I cough and tap my hand against the table. "Would you like me to clean up that cut you have? I think there's a first aid kit in the kitchen."

He shakes his head. But I already plan on bringing it over regardless. Men and their incapability to ask for help. I want to ask him what happened but I knew that asking questions would make him even more uncomfortable than he is now.

"Well in that case, what can I get you?"

"A burger with all the toppings and a black coffee."

I don't need to write it down on my notepad, figuring I'll be able to remember it. I give him one last tight smile and leave to tell the cook his order.