She wandered back into the kitchen for more coffee. She didn’t know what she wanted from her life anymore. Last night had redefined sex for her. She’d never imagined the physical act could touch her so deeply, make her so out-of-her-head insane, and raise the bar to what was probably an impossible height.
And Bruiser, how had it affected him? Just another night in the bedroom? He’d move on while she stayed in the same place, crushing on a guy who would never return her affection. And what exactly was the extent of said affection?
Wearily, Mac sipped her Tully’s and savored the warm, sunny morning. Colors seemed more vivid, the birds’ songs sounded more melodic, and her roses’ sweet scent more fragrant. She sat back and tried to relax, to push her troubled thoughts away and just let herself enjoy the peaceful atmosphere.
A few minutes later, her peace was interrupted. Her father came through the back door, a folder of papers under his arm. So much for peace and relaxation. The man looked worse than her cat after a fight with the tomcat next door. He grunted a hello then ignored her, spreading the papers all over her patio table. Craig sat down and rifled through them, even though by now every detail should be committed to memory.
Mac fixed breakfast and placed the plate in front of him. “Eat, Dad.”
“I will. Later.” He scribbled notes on a yellow notepad, not even bothering to look up.
“Why don’t we take a break and do something fun? How about a Mariners game? They’re playing at home today. We used to go all the time.” Mac held her breath, waiting for his answer.
Her father glanced up, dark circles under his eyes, sadness etched into every line of his face. “Will loved the Mariners. Damn good baseball player, that brother of yours. I still think he could’ve played in the majors.”
Mac fought a surge of jealousy then felt like a bitch for it. It was always about Will. Never anyone else. God, she missed the father Craig used to be. “So let’s go to the game. We can get tickets at the stadium box office. Let’s honor Will’s memory by doing something Will loved to do.”
For a moment her tactic almost worked, but Craig’s shoulders returned to their perpetual slump. He rubbed his bloodshot eyes. “Too much to do,” he mumbled.
Frustration built inside her to the breaking point. “How much longer are you going to live like this, Dad?”
He stared at her, his expression oddly blank. Then he shrugged. “Dunno.”
“What if we never find the answers, never find his body? Will wouldn’t want to see you wasting away like this.”
“You’re building a case to desert me, aren’t you? Just like Clint did.”
“Clint has a family, Dad.”
“Yeah, well, he could give his dear old dad and his brother some of his time, at least once a month, but that’s too much for him. And now you’re going to abandon me. Abandon Will.”
“No, I’d never do that, Dad. I want the answers as much as you, but maybe we need balance.” Guilt engulfed her, pulled her under with its cold, vengeful hand, magnified by the growing fear that her father teetered on the verge of an emotional breakdown.
“Maybe we need to try harder to find Will. The answers are here, somewhere. I can feel it. If only Bruiser could get close to Trudy.”
Mac frowned, not liking that option at all. The tightening of her gut couldn’t be anything but jealousy, and she had no right to be possessive of Bruiser. They didn’t have an exclusive relationship, or even really a relationship at all. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Bruiser might be the break we need.”
“I’m not asking Bruiser to do that for us.”
“I’ll talk to him. I can convince him.”
“I don’t want you to bug him.” Mac sighed. Her father hadn’t picked up on the subtle signals from a few nights ago or today that his daughter might have more than a passing interest in Bruiser.
And why was she surprised?
Mac studied the once robust, athletic man. He’d lost at least fifty pounds, become a skeleton of his former self, and aged twenty years in the last three. It broke her heart, but she couldn’t do a damn thing to save him no matter how hard she tried.
Maybe you need to save yourself first.
Craig’s chair scraped across the concrete patio. He stood and walked into the house. Suspicious, Mac followed him. Her father walked to the window that faced Will’s old house. He grabbed the binoculars she kept for bird watching. Standing off to one side, he pushed the binoculars through the slats in the blinds.
“What’s she doing out there?” Her father’s voice shook with the fierce determination Mac only heard when he talked about Will or Sonja.
Mac peeked through the blinds. “She’s toying with you. It’s not the first time she’s done that. Ignore her. She loves to tweak you. She knows you’re watching.”
“She might slip up.”
“She hasn’t yet. She’s smarter than you give her credit for.”
“She’s lucky, not smart. Sooner or later her luck has to run out.”
Mac sighed and flopped down on the couch, flipping to the Mariners pre-game show. “The M’s have won their last seven in a row. They’re only two games out of first place in their division.”
“Hmmm.”
Mac watched the game alone. Her father never touched his food. Eventually, he left, carrying his folder of evidence with him, leaving Mac to her thoughts, which bounced among Bruiser, her father, the scholarship, and her current job.
Some people got all the luck, and currently Mac and her father weren’t on that exclusive list.
* * * * *
Bruiser lived by a few simple rules, one of which was not to get involved in other people’s business. Tell that to the part of him that pulled into an empty spot next to the
