mean, yeah, she should be, but I don’t know.”
“What is it?”
“She’s been having such a hard time since my father died. A piece of me had hoped she’d eventually come to see his death as granting her freedom in a way.” I cringe and look shame-faced at Mark. “That sounds terrible, doesn’t it?”
He shrugs and takes a hearty bite of the strip of bacon in his hand before shaking his head. “Bastard doesn’t sound like much to grieve over to me. Does that sound harsh?” He looks at me pointedly.
Tilting my head to the side, I answer, “Yes.”
He shrugs again. “Oh well. I don’t like him, and he’s probably lucky I never got the chance to meet him while he was still breathing.”
The menacing tone his voice takes on sends a chill down my spine. Mark always had a playful, and often, even an arrogant poise about himself. When we were alone, he displayed his more loving side to me, but there were times, only a handful in which I saw his vengeful side. Like, for example, when one of our high school’s football players decided the no I’d given him when he asked me out wasn’t a suitable answer. That guy had ended up with a fractured wrist but was too afraid to tell anyone what happened.
I’d been there and witnessed Mark put a guy who was three inches taller than him and broader, by a lot, on his butt. Literally.
“I’m grateful you never got that opportunity,” I mumble.
Glancing around his open space loft, I admire the brick walls and fireplace area. “That’d be a perfect spot for your Christmas tree. Are you planning on putting one up this year?”
He snorts. “I don’t decorate for the holidays.”
“Why no—” I stop myself from finishing, feeling like an idiot. Of course, the holidays wouldn’t bring back good memories for him. “December 23rd,” I murmur, sighing.
He nods solemnly as he takes the final bite of his pancake.
It’s the anniversary of Mark’s accident. It happened two days before Christmas, while all of us high schoolers were on break. Mark and I were supposed to hang out that night and exchange gifts. But then he got a call on his cell from one of the guys at the gym where he sometimes boxed. There was an opportunity for a fight, and this one was for money.
“I had a bad feeling about that fight,” I admit.
He sits back in his chair, looking at me, silently asking me to finish.
“I enjoyed seeing you fight. Can’t lie about that. You’re a natural in the ring. I don’t care what your dad said or who you were compared to. You have your own style. And I’ve watched a lot of fights since then.”
He grins.
I’d become an MMA fan over the years. Somehow it made me feel closer to Mark even when we were years and miles apart. It’s a sport he introduced me to.
“Even after you won against that guy. What was his name?”
“Sean Knox. He went on to do some more amateur fights but never turned pro.”
I nod. “Yeah, well, he couldn’t beat you. But afterward, I had a gut feeling something was about to go wrong. I tried to brush it off because you’d won the fight, and it was two days before Christmas. I knew I wouldn’t be able to see you over Christmas break, so I wanted that night to be special.”
“You were going away with your parents for the holidays.”
“I lied,” I say, peering up at him. “We were staying in town, but I was afraid you’d ask to come over or for me to go out and hang with you, which we couldn’t do.”
Mark nods in understanding.
“What if I bought a tree this year?” he asks as the room grows silent.
“Fake one or a real one?”
“Pssh, we don’t do fake around here, J.”
I laugh at the same time my belly flip flops at the moniker only he has ever called me.
“It’ll be my first tree in this place in five years of living here. Can’t have a fake one.”
“That’d be nice.”
“Good. You need to help me pick it out.” He pushes back from the table, lifting both of our plates, and then rolls over to the sink.
My gaze follows him with my mouth agape. “Me? What?”
“Oh, and I’ll need you to help pick out decorations, too. Only a tree sitting in the middle of my living room? It’d look naked and lonely as hell. Hey, how’d you find out where I lived