Page 175 of Lovers' Dance

“Fuck next week.” Matt said in a cold, hard voice. “I want to know now. Don’t do this, poppet. Don’t shut me out. The past weekend, yesterday…the state you were in…bloody hell. Your behaviour is worrying. It scared me, Madison. You scared me. This,” he waved his free hand up and down my form, “is not normal. Tell me what’s going on so I can help you.”

I yanked my wrist free, inhaling deeply. “You can’t help, Matt. No one can. Look, go to work, don’t go to work; I don’t care. I love you, Matt, but I don’t need you right now.”

He looked as if I’d slapped him. Matt’s throat bobbed up and down while we exchanged tense stares. Then he said, “I need you. And you do need me, too. I am going to spend tomorrow with you—”

“No,” I interjected firmly.

Matt arched an eyebrow at me. “I’m pulling ranks, my sweet darling. I’m older, by default that makes me wiser. You have two choices, Madi. You can graciously accept my support and let me help you through this upsetting time, or you can fight me tooth and nail and still have to accept my support.”

The determination pouring off him signified his mind was made up. Matthew Bradley had spoken and, like he said, I had two choices: hard or easy.

“I like getting to the cemetery early. You should get some sleep as Dante and I plan on leaving at six,” I said in a defeated voice.

Matt exhaled loudly before pulling me into his arms. “Thank you, and I won’t pull rank on you again unless it’s completely necessary.”

I was too tired to care…

Matt observed her from lowered lashes. She looked exhausted. Utterly exhausted, and he knew she hadn’t slept last night. The pallor of her skin was strangely ashen. He never thought a skin tone like hers could lose its warm glow, but it had.

“Coffee?” He held the pot up and she shook her head. He turned to Dante, who sat on the other side of the table. “What about you? Would you like coffee?”

“Thanks, man,” Dante said, holding his mug out. Matt poured the coffee, noticing that like him, Dante’s gaze was never too long away from her empty features. Matt hid his worry behind a calm mask. It was as if the life had seeped right out of her. She kept glancing at her watch nervously, lips moving silently ever so often. It pained him to think of what she was going through, but it was best to just get through today. Once today was over, his poppet would be back to her smiling self.

“We should go,” she said abruptly.

Dante had raised the mug to his lips. He set the mug down and glanced at Matt.

Madi pushed her chair back, looking over at the flowers at Dante. “We should go now.”

“Okay,” Dante said.

“Of course, poppet,” Matt said.

She stood up and stalked over to the counter to get the flowers. “Right, then. Let’s go.”

Matt watched her agitated movements: her compressed lips; the flinching in her eyes. His poppet was in the grips of mental torture, her own private hell. Bollocks. Had she never truly come to terms with her parents’ deaths? Her behaviour the past few days indicated exactly that.

She held the flowers away from her face, as if she couldn’t bear inhaling the delicate fragrance, and walked out of the kitchen without a backward glance.

Dante looked over at him. “Today isn’t a good day for her.”

Matt nodded as they followed her out of the kitchen. She waited silently at the front door, never meeting their eyes. They left her home and headed for the Hither Green cemetery in Lewisham.

Matt could sense her despair the closer they got, and it was far more painful for him than he expected. When he parked, she exhaled loudly, flashed him a tight smile and said, “I’ll see you guys in a bit.”

He had planned on going with her, but that one sentence signified her desire to be alone.

“One hour, Madi,” Dante said softly as she opened the door, adjusted the flowers in her arms and nodded. She walked away.

Dante sighed loudly in the backseat and rubbed a hand over his face. Matt eyed him in the rear view mirror. Now they were alone, he could finally speak his mind.

“I know Madi views you as her closest friend,” he started coolly. “I respect that, Palmer. You two grew up together and you work together.” Matt’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. “But if you ever stand by and watch her get into the state she’s been in the past few days, if you ever encourage her to indulge in such behaviour…I will personally make it my business to make your life a living hell.”

Dante straightened up against the leather upholstery. “Who the hell do you think you’re talking to, Bradley? You don’t know shit about Madi, and you sure as hell don’t know shit about me. What? You think because you’re fucking her you know her? Man, fuck you. You don’t know shit. I’ve been by her side for decades.”

“Hmm.” Matt made a derisive sound at the back of his throat. “Yes, you have and, instead of being a true friend, you’ve done nothing more than enable her destructive behaviour the past few days. Do you even understand the definition of friendship?”