“My mom went to Uncle Lee. She was nervous about the wedding—she and my dad got married so young.” Maddie looks down and shakes her head. “I think she wanted to tell Lee about Luke but chickened out, and he was too weak to send her away, or maybe he thought he would talk to her, calm her down, and she’d leave.”
“But that’s not what happened,” I say, tightening my embrace.
“He was gone before she woke up in the morning, left her a note that they gave up their chance a long time ago and she belonged with my dad. She kept it with a letter she wrote him about that night, and about Luke, in a shoebox that my dad couldn’t bring himself to open until Luke showed up.”
“I’m sorry, Maddie.”
“I was born nine months after the wedding. I learned about Mom and Uncle Lee’s night together when I found a DNA test my dad took after Luke showed up, along with the box. I was snooping around for birthday presents.” Maddie sighs, a heavy sound that’s so in contrast to her usual ambiance that I want to pull her into a crushing embrace until all that weight is lifted off her shoulders. “I tried to be angry, hate him for betraying my dad, his best friend, the night before my parent’s wedding.”
“That’s…” I don’t know how to continue the sentence. Infidelity is a big issue for me, but something about Lee and her mom’s story rings differently than the kind of two-timing assholery my dad was up to. Cheating is still cheating, though.
“I couldn’t, though,” Maddie whispers. “Hate him. My mom was dead, and Uncle Lee knew things about her no one else did. Plus, my dad forgave them, so who was I to hold a grudge? I’m not a big fan of birthdays, though, just so you know.”
“You’re really something, Madeline, you know that?” I pull her close, inhaling the soft scent of orchids that reaches my nose every time the wind kicks up.
“I’ve never told this to anyone before.” She turns those Egyptian eyes up at me, confusion and wonder sparkling in them. “Not even my sister.”
“Well, thank you for telling me.” I plant a kiss on the top of her head before indicating her building up ahead. “Here we are.”
“Gym tomorrow?” she asks as we climb the stairs, and I look down at her, struggling to think of an excuse why not. “Please, Sawyer? It helps me feel stronger, like I’m taking back some control in this craziness that’s become my life. Training with you helps me believe I can survive this.”
“Youwillsurvive this, Maddie.” I hold both her shoulders in my hands, catching her gaze with mine and holding until every bit of fear seeps away from her eyes, leaving nothing but trust and warmth in its wake. “I’ll pick you up oh-eight-hundred sharp.”
“Awesome. Thank you.” She kisses my cheek and turns to punch in the security code, walking into the lobby of her building. She turns around and smiles at me as the door starts swinging shut. “Night, Huckleberry.”
“Night, Techy.”
I keep my vigil until I see her step into the elevator, return her small wave as the doors slide shut, then watch as the number climbs to the last floor and wait to get the selfie of her inside her place.
The photo comes in, the caption reading “wait for it” accompanied by a grin full of so much ill-intent I get hard just from the thought of what she’s up to. Then a second photo pops up in the chat, a self-portrait in the body-length mirror with the button of her jeans popped open, the zipper lowered just enough for me to get a peek of hot pink lace underneath.
Just a hint of fabric, no skin. And with it the sudden awareness that she’s been wearing them all night.
My instinct is to tear through every door between us and rip that teasing piece of fabric off her body before burying myself balls deep into the cheeky smartass. But I know better than to assume this is an invitation.
The taunting photo is Maddie’s version of retribution for the way I rile her up and then shut her down. She knows I’m not immune, she just thinks it’s a physical thing, and she’s burning through her own emotional and mental frustration, the one I keep creating with my hot and cold plays.
“Evil,”I answer, adding an emoji of a smiling devil before sighing and turning back to the street.
A glimpse of a shadow catches my attention though I pretend to be caught up in my phone. The movement is more distinct the next time I see it, and yes, I’m being followed.
I don’t know by who or why, but I’d bet my life this has something to do with Maddie.
The man following me isn’t bad, staying in the shadows as he slinks after me. Part of me wonders if I should grab him and squeeze him for information, but it’s better if I let him believe I have no idea he’s there.
He stops in an alley across the street from my building, watching me walk in, but doesn’t follow. I know something’s off even before I reach my door, nothing overt but my instincts are on high alert.
I slowly unlock and open the door to my air BNB, finding the entire place thrashed and my laptop gone from its perch on the breakfast bar.
“Shit.” I pull out my phone and dial 911, reporting the break in to maintain my cover as a guy in the city for a home visit, hoping it gives me a couple of more days to make arrangements. Once I’ve called in the cops, I go to the kitchen sink, relieved to see the panels intact despite it being emptied.
I locate the hidden compartment and pull out a burner phone, sending a text to Elijah just in case my place has been bugged.
“It’s time to make Maddie scarce.”
* * *
Maddie