Page 48 of Strike
19
Callie
When the sunrose the next day, things seemed different. Like I’d gathered a ton of life experience points and had leveled up.
I went on a date with a nice man—that didn’t really do anything for me—then went home with another on the same night. When did I become so…in demand?
I was torn in three very different directions. Mark was complicated and broken, but I was attracted to him to the point of agony. Justin was nice and considerate, and I might come to like him more than a friend given enough time. My business was demanding most of my time, and the dream I’d had since a child was finally manifesting.
But the promise I’d finally made was to Mark.
After a night asleep in Mark’s arms—with no added funny business—I cabbed it home all bleary eyed. It had been years since I’d crawled in at seven a.m. Not since my late teens and early twenties when I used to go out all night clubbing and seeing live bands. My tolerance for lack of sleep was completely shot. I was the walking dead.
Opening the front door, I shuffled down the hall to the kitchen, desperate for a little caffeine to kick-start the synapses in my brain. Macy was sitting at the table finishing her breakfast, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, dressed and ready for work. Ugh, sometimes her perfection pissed me off, but at least she was dwarfed by my Twister heartbreak cake that took up three-quarters of the table.
“You’re getting in late,” she said with a wink.
“It’s not like that,” I mumbled, shuffling toward the coffee machine. Grabbing a pod, I popped it into the top, shoved a cup under the nozzle, and pressed the button that made magic happen.
“Then what’s it like?” Macy asked, hiding a grin. “Did you bag the firefighter?”
“No.” Opening the fridge, I took out the milk and topped up my coffee. “He was as much fun as a dirty dish rag. Ugh, I’m such abitch. He was really nice and polite and all of those things, but there was just… Nothing.”
“Hey, that’s not always an indicator, you know. Sometimes relationships take time to build, especially when you don’t know the guy very well.” She raised her eyebrows. “Unlike the fighter…”
“Speaking of Mark,” I said with a scowl.
“Shit, Callie! Has he been harassing you?” She practically stamped her foot. “I knew it!”
“No, he hasn’t been harassing me.” I blew on my coffee and took a sip. “I stopped by the shop last night to check the progress, and he found me there.”
Macy’s mouth dropped open. “Seriously? He’s stalking you now?”
“It’s not like that. Just listen, okay? We had a long talk where he explained everything.” I stared into the mug, breathing in the scent. “He said it was all a lie. What that woman accused him of.”
She snorted and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right.”
“He was pretty convincing,” I went on. “Extremely detailed. Though, you were right about one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“He’s got a ton of broken happening. A real shitload. You know he turned up last night with a broken arm?” Remembering the cast and his explanation—it got stood on—I winced a little.
“He fights illegally,” Macy said warily. “And has had all these accusations made against him. It sounds like bad news to me. He probably broke it fighting some other bastard for money. Are you sure you want to get mixed up with him?”
I knew she was coming from a good place, but her standoffishness was beginning to irritate me. Mark had done nothing to hurt me, nothing directly, and his attempts at saving me from harm had backfired. I promised to give him a chance, but now I doubted even that.Thanks, Macy.
“I can’t deny what I feel for him,” I said after a moment. “I won’t be silly enough to fall into a situation that’s bad for me, but I can’t walk away when there’s a chance of something real andgoodwith him. He needs someone in his corner. He needs someone to listen. Isn’t that a good start? It’s not exactly diving in headfirst into a pool of piranhas.”
“I’m just worried he’s lying,” Macy said.
“I saw the look in his eyes,” I replied. “I saw it, and I believe him. I just…” I stared into my cup of coffee. “There’s something there.”
“Just be careful, Callie.”
I nodded. “I always am.”
Macy smiled halfheartedly, and I knew she didn’t quite believe me. It didn’t matter though. This was between Mark and me, and only we knew the truth of what we felt.
