Spring Secrets - Allie Boniface Page 0,58
the ground. What is she doing? Sienna squinted into the shadows. Maybe she’d mistaken Ella for her sister Becca. Ella Ericksen would never be slumming after dark, feeding stray cats. But no, that was definitely Ella’s highlighted blonde hair under the watch cap and her signature stiletto boots. After she’d emptied the cans she returned to the SUV, grabbed some blankets, got down on her hands and knees, and spread them on the ground beside the bowls. Then she sat back on her heels and whistled. Three cats appeared from the bushes, the strays Sienna had seen all winter long. They skittered by Ella, giving her a long look before gulping in the food. She didn’t touch them or talk to them, just waited until they finished eating. Then she got into her SUV and drove away.
U won’t believe what I just saw!!! Sienna texted Dash as soon as she got upstairs. She shrugged off her coat, kicked off her shoes, and waited for him to answer. He’d never believe her. She wished she’d thought to take a picture of Ella kneeling in the dirt, but she’d been so surprised it hadn’t occurred to her.
She checked her phone, but he hadn’t texted back since his only message two hours ago. That’s strange. Even if he was at the gym, busy, sleeping, showering, he always returned her messages. She turned her phone off and back on, but still nothing. She turned on the TV and flipped through Friday night shows. Checked her phone again. Showered, changed into her pajamas, and made a mug of tea. The wind had picked up, and it whipped against her front window. She bet the strays were especially grateful for Ella’s blankets right about now.
She still couldn’t believe Whispering Pines’s Queen Bee was feeding stray cats on the side. Guess you really don’t know some people. She wanted to ask Dash what he thought, if he was surprised, if he’d known all along, but he never answered.
Hope everything’s OK she finally texted before going to bed. It wasn’t like him not to respond, even with just a quick emoji, but then again, considering what she’d found out about Mac and Polly and Ella tonight, it was possible she didn’t know what he was like at all. Maybe he was out, ignoring her, sleeping, or a rash of other possibilities.
Or like Ella, maybe Dash just had secrets of his own.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Every time Dash looked at his shiner in the mirror, shame crept over him. Al had only landed one punch, but it had been a good one. The morning after, Dash had a black eye and a split lip. His cheek ached to the touch.
“What the hell happened to you?” Hans asked when he showed up at the gym.
Dash yanked a ball cap over his eyes. “Ran into a door last night.”
Hans gave him a sideways look but didn’t say anything else.
Sorry I didn’t get back 2 u, he texted Sienna around noon. Still not feeling too good.
Sorry to hear it. Anything I can do?
No but thanks. He couldn’t see her, not in this condition. He stuffed his phone into his gym bag and spent the next two hours pumping so much iron he grew lightheaded and his legs trembled. Around three he told Hans he’d pay him overtime to man the front desk for the rest of the weekend. Then he went home and climbed into bed.
Didn’t drink.
Didn’t eat.
Didn’t sleep much, either.
Sunday night he heard a knock on his door, but he didn’t answer it. He just pulled the sheets over his head and waited for whoever it was to leave. When he finally crept to the living room and looked outside, he found a cooler on his front step. He tipped up the lid. Three plastic bowls sat inside, their contents still warm enough that the tops were coated with condensation.
Hope you’re feeling better, read Sienna’s handwritten note on top.
“Man, I sure don’t deserve you,” he said as he carried the cooler into his kitchen. He ran one hand over his hair, oily and matted to his head. He hadn’t showered in two days, and everything in the place stank. Stop feeling sorry for yourself, he tried to reason, but it was hard. Seemed like every step forward he took, he slid three steps back. Maybe he didn’t have it in him, to rise above. Maybe he was the same as Al, destined to make bad decisions for the rest of his life.
He opened a