What's Left of Me

What’s Left of Me Hannah Bird Contents Also by Hannah Bird Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Acknowledgments About Hannah Bird Copyright @ 2023 by Hannah Lindsay. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. Editor: Lea Ann Schafer Cover Design: Y’all, That Graphic Formatter: Miranda Grissom Published in the United States. * * * NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: This book contains discussions about domestic violence and remembered moments of abuse. This content may be triggering to some and should be read with caution. Also by Hannah Bird Loveless Series: The End and Then (Book 1) What’s Left of Me Dedication To Avery, who has never given a soft, white damn whom she touches. And to Jennalee, and every other woman who has found the strength to walk away. You are all heroes to me, but more importantly, you are heroes to yourselves. Chapter One A plume of smoke blurs my vision as the acrid scent of cigarettes stings my nostrils. My two less-than-dedicated line cooks and the tagalong dishwasher are relaxing against the brick wall to my right, unaware that they’re being observed. I place one hand on my hip and make a disapproving cluck with my tongue, causing three pairs of eyes to spread wide in embarrassment as the heads they’re attached to whip around to find out who has caught them. “Santi has three tickets on the order wheel. It’d be a lot easier to fulfill them if he had anyone in there cooking,” I say. A chorus of, “Yes, Boss,” and, “Sorry, Jefa,” rises up on the last tendril of smoke as Eric and Mateo put out the cigarettes under their restaurant-grade non-slip shoes. They trudge past me while Marcelin takes one last drag and then does the same. “My apologies, miss,” he mutters in a thick Haitian accent, ducking his head as he follows the other two inside. I pour a splash of water from my insulated bottle over the flickering butts to make sure no sparks remain. When I’m satisfied, I return to the kitchen, pulling the door shut behind me and arming the alarm. “You guys gotta be careful; you could start a fire,” I say. They keep their heads low while taking turns scrubbing their hands in the sink basin before returning to their workstations. Santi winks at me as he doles out tasks, grateful I don’t mind being the hard-ass so he doesn’t have to be. I push through the saloon doors as the sounds of the party reach me. It seems like the whole town is here, which probably still wouldn’t be enough people to fill the bar considering Loveless’s population after the summer tourists leave is laughable. It just goes to show how many people are rooting for Chase and Eden and want to celebrate their engagement. My best friend saunters out of the crowd like Moses parting the Red Sea, holding an empty copper cup in the air and shaking it, the melting ice cubes singing the siren call of someone needing a refill. I reach for the mug, but Eden dances past me with a smirk, clinking it against the already made whiskey sour Maddie is garnishing for Chase’s mother. “Eden,” Maddie whines. “If I make a mess, it’ll be your fault.” She tucks a bar napkin under the sweating glass and passes it to Laura before gathering the ingredients for the Honeybee Mule I created specifically for Eden’s engagement party. Eden just rolls her eyes at Maddie, pinching her elbow affectionately. “If I recall correctly, you once caused me to take a power shower with a beer keg.” Eden tries to give Maddie a hard stare but ends up wiggling her eyebrows to soften the blow. “Seems like I’m overdue for some revenge.” “That one was also your fault,” Maddie reminds her. She scrunches her nose at the memory, the diamond stud nestled there winking in the low light of the bar. “Touché,” Eden replies. “I’m sorry. I wanted to give Zo a chance to stop working for just a second and actually enjoy the party she worked so hard to put together.” “Zoey never stops working,” Gary chimes in, his grumbly voice cutting through the noise of the crowd. “But I don’t have to tell you that.” Eden smiles, taking the refilled copper mug from Maddie’s outstretched hand and sidling up to me, her free arm looping through mine. “But we love her for that.” “That we do,” Gary agrees, stroking his white beard, which looks more like a puffy cloud with every inch it grows. He drops his empty glass over the bar, refilling it with Sprite from the soda gun Maddie passes to him. Only she could be working as a bartender and somehow still have the patrons pour their own drinks. She waltzes to the other end of the counter where Eden’s brother-in-law, Jarrett, has his arm outstretched to get her attention. I haven’t seen him in several years, with how busy his patients keep him. Gray is beginning to creep up his hairline, turning his temples more salt than pepper, though it makes him look distinguished rather than aged. He ducks his