Page 27 of The Art of Dying

“That could change when I leave. I’m not taking any chances.”

“Kitsch…” Mack began.

“A lot of things are a discussion; your safety isn’t one of them. I can’t be out there in the sand wondering if you’re safe. You’re a crack shot and I’m leaving some of my guns for home defense, but…”

“Okay,” she said, putting her hand on mine. “You’re right, it’ll set your mind at ease, and you can concentrate on work.”

I squeezed her hand, but my expression must’ve not matched what I felt, because she frowned. “What?” she asked. “Are you upset with me?”

I blew out an exasperated laugh. “Not at all. I was just thinking I couldn’t imagine how anyone could do anything to you but love you.”

Alecia touched her palm to her chest, and Mack’s grin nearly spanned the width of her face.

“And this is why nothing about you scares me,” Mack said.

“You’ll never be scared again. Of anyone or anything. I’ll make sure of it.” I glanced at Lucas. “And that’s on God.”

chapter eight.

Mack

“Okay, okay. I get it. Melissa Morrison is a bottom-dwelling gutter slut, and she keeps paging and calling Lucas.Notokay. But, hear me out, Al. Why doesn’t he just stop answering his phone? I know he has caller ID. Why doesn’t he tell her to stop calling him?”

Alecia put her hands in the pocket of her scrubs, thinking. “Well, because he shouldn’thaveto! She should stop!”

“Yes, but she’s not, so… wouldn’t it just save everyone the drama if he told her to stop calling him? How did she get his number, anyway?”

She waved me away. “He’s had the same number since high school.”

“He had the cell phone in high school?”

She thought about that. “No. That’s new.”

I raised my eyebrows to drive the point home.

“I’ve asked him to stop. He says ignoring her makes him look stupid.”

I stared at her, blank-faced. “How does it make him look stupid to stop carrying on conversations with a girl he doesn’t hang out with, isn’t family, he doesn’t want to date, and she’s intentionally causing issues with his relationship?”

“Because he says it makes him look like he can’t handle it.”

“But… she’s not stopping, so he’s not handling it. That he even answers…”

“I mean, it’s just some stupid question. She was asking about our trip to Jamaica the other day, about where to stay and stuff. I heard them talking. He wasn’t flirting or anything.”

“If he’d stop responding, she’d stop calling. He’s encouraging it.”

“Mack, it’s not his fault. What she does isn’t his responsibility.”

“No, but the way he reacts, and the way he allows things to affect you,is.”

She turned on her heel, paused, then turned back around, pushing her black-rimmed glasses up the bridge of her nose. “You’re right. I’ve been pissed off over that shit-stirring bitch for over a year and if he’d just put his foot down, it would’ve been a non-issue. He’s been making excuses and making me feel like my complaining was the problem.”

Alecia went to the break room and picked up the phone.

“Maybe, don’t have this conversation now…” I began, but before I could finish, she’d already begun a barrage of words into the receiver.

She hung up the phone and returned, crossing her arms. “I just told him he has to stop or it’s over. It’s her or me, Mack.”

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