Page 30 of The Dark Side

"—and he thought it was so funny. He's lucky I don't have other options right now."

"Mom," Jolie chastised. "You'd be lost without Derek." Her mother liked to talk a big game, but Jolie's stepdad was her foundation. They had married when Jolie was five. Derek was the only father she remembered, while her biological father had been killed in a car accident.

Jolie attempted to clean. She turned to her broken coffee table, pieces shattered from where she landed. The pain in her ribs amplified, as if it knew what had happened.

"I might make it on my own," Heather responded. "Think of how much time I'd save not picking up the towels off the bathroom floor every day. Or cleaning his coffee mug every morning. Or not having him ramble on about the stock market. I could have a whole garden by now."

Jolie got a garbage bag from under the sink, waving it open. Her movements were slow. Her body didn't want to move, and yet, she couldn't leave all the broken pieces lying on the floor, reminding her of what happened.

"Did you get to work out this morning? It's so good for you. My yoga class is amazing, and I'll never miss a day."

On and on, she went, saying things she'd already said earlier this week, but that was the thing about her mom. Whenever Jolie talked to her, Heather never made her feel like she didn't have time or that she was busy. Jolie felt wanted, and the fear began to fade away. She rested her burdens in her mom's hands even though she didn't know it.

"I'm going out tonight," Jolie cut in.

"With who?"

"A guy I met at the gym."

"A guy you met? Why am I just hearing about this now?"

"Because it just happened. And it's not what you think. He wants me to tutor his daughter."

"Well, that's a new one."

Jolie rolled her eyes. "How can you hate him already? You know absolutely nothing."

The protective mother in her faded, and she said, "Okay, you're right. Tell me about him. What's his name?"

"Well, um—" Jolie contemplated, needing to be very selective with her words. "Adrik. He's very nice. Well-mannered. Married," she stressed to relieve her. "So this isn't a date. It's an interview, I guess."

"Uh-huh. Will his wife be there?"

"Well, no…"

"Can you admit that you are a little gullible? I mean, Vincent was able to convince you—"

"I don't want to talk about Vincent. I was a teenager!" Jolie exasperated. "Can I get some leeway, please?"

"You are smart, and you still fell for his charms."

Jolie bitterly fought back with, "I'm a grown woman now."

"With minimal experience. I'm just saying thousands of men out there will treat you well, and they have no agenda and aren't married."

"This isn't a date!" She winced, holding her ribs. Water stung the back of her eyes, and she fell on the couch with little energy. The noise didn't go unnoticed, and Jolie was quick to assure her. "I hurt myself at the gym. I'm fine."

"Okay, I'll back off. It's just going to dinner with a nice, well-mannered married man. Nothing wrong with that."

Jolie dropped her head on the couch. "You know, sometimes you are more cynical than I like."

"A personal flaw, but you love me anyway."

Jolie fidgeted in her seat in the limo. She was in pain. Every breath she took was like a sledgehammer to her ribcage, and it didn't seem to matter how she sat; nothing eased it. But she had to pretend. She wasn't a hundred percent sure that Adrik wasn't to blame for her attack, but it didn't make sense. He wanted her to befriend him.

Mally said it was Adrik's enemies, and if that were the case, if Adrik found out, would he want to retaliate? She couldn't have any blood on her hands. The police were doing their job, and she trusted in the process. She'd have to hide it from him and pray he never found out.

Jolie was sure what she was wearing wasn't good enough: aFriendsT-shirt and jeans with flip-flops. But when she asked the odd person on the phone what she should wear, they replied with “casual,” and this was her casual. Her lack of pretty dresses with sleeves showed she had lived in Florida her whole life. Wearing anything sleeveless wasn't currently an option, because of the massive welt on her bicep. Even now, it threatened to poke through under her shirt, but she couldn't find an excuse to wear a sweater. The heat was near a hundred, and the humidity made the air barely breathable.