Page 23 of Dark Endures

Mindy takes a large portion of pasta and the pork chop.

After a few minutes of silent eating, my curiosity gets the better of me. “So, what are you saving for?”

“Huh?” Mindy sets her fork down and stares at me.

Way to ease into a conversation. “You already have a full-time job. I assume you’re working this hard to save for something like a down payment on a house, a wedding, or a honeymoon.” At least you didn’t blurt out, who’s Waylon and why did you give him all your money?

Her hand trembles a little bit. “None of those. I’m… um… going on a vacation with some friends and want to save up for it.”

That’s a perfectly reasonable answer, but she’s lying.

Why?

“I… Um… Better get back to work. Thanks for the food and the beer.” She rushes out of the room.

Way to go putting your employee at ease in order to pump her for information.

Fiona is right. Mindy will never share whatever is wrong until she feels completely comfortable.

He’s Watching Us

Mindy

Why did I invite Dahlia to go thrifting? I’m dead tired and this is cutting into the small amount of sleep that I might get, but it might distract me from obsessing about the weird meal I had last night with Maddox.

Not to mention it’s just that she’s carrying a twenty-thousand-dollar purse, walking through a second-hand store with me. If that isn’t bad enough, her husband came with her. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Absolutely. Shopping is my favorite activity.” She flips through the racks with a smile on her face.

Normally thrifting is one of mine too, but not with her husband glaring at the entire store like he’s ready to kill everyone for even looking at his wife. Vex…Maverick Steele—who would have thought his real name would sound more like a superhero than a villain—probably would do just that.

“Can he stop doing that?”

Dahlia doesn’t even turn to see what I’m talking about. “No. I’m pretty sure that’s impossible. The only time he doesn’t have that look on his face is when we’re alone together.”

What would it be like to have a man that fiercely protective watching out for me? My whole life I’ve been on my own, even as a child.

It doesn’t compute.

“What about this?” Dahlia lifts up a button-up knit sweater. “I’m trying to get away from oversized clothing.”

“Good. You have a figure that women dream of having. Show it off.” A sparkly body con dress practically pops out as I pretend to look through the rack next to me. “You should get this.”

“That?” Her eyes bug out. “It’s… um… a little loud.”

And? “You said you wanted to try something new.” I check the size. It might be a little tight around her chest, but Dahlia looks to be about a medium. “It should fit.”

“Where am I even going to wear a dress like that?” She steps back like the dress is about to attack her.

“At your husband’s club. On Friday night.” That seems kind of obvious.

Dahlia’s smile evaporates, replaced by abject terror, which makes no sense.

Why would she be afraid of her husband’s club?

“What’s wrong?” Maverick steps between Dahlia and me, completely ignoring my existence. His whole world is her.

That’s what I’d like to know.

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