Page 61 of Seeds of Malice

Something about that makes me feel like I'm just as good as those other girls.

I need to stop comparing myself to them.

He told me he's not into them, but I'm no dummy. I know he's been with others, so he must've been interested at some point.

Cindy's face appears in my mind, and my stomach churns.

I try to force myself to not think of her, but the lingering question won't turn off.

Did I please him more than she did?

Or does Dax regret me and want to go back to her?

I can't expect a man like Dax not to have had any experience. I vow not to hold that against him.

Please let him like me more,I silently plead to the universe.

The water boils over the pot, pulling me out of my worries. I move it off the burner, lower the temperature, wipe up the water,then add the noodles. I stir them to make sure they don't stick together, then put the pot back on the burner.

I stir the sauce, put the lid back on, and stick the bread in the oven.

I set a five-minute timer and then pace again. It's getting dark out. It's now eight thirty. My father should have been home by now, but with what the man on the walkie-talkie said was going on, he could be gone longer. Yet, with every second that passes, I'm just extending the anxiety about the conversation I know looms in front of me.

How will Dad act?

Will he have calmed down?

The meal finishes cooking. I take everything off the stove and the bread out of the oven. The scent of garlic flares in my nose, and my stomach growls.

Where is Dad?

I go to the door and open it right as he's reaching for the handle. His eyes turn to slits. He booms, "Ivy."

My insides quiver. I try to appear clueless, asking, "Dad, where have you been? I have dinner ready."

He scowls. "Don't act like you weren't there."

My chest tightens. I pray I look innocent. I've never been a good liar. I question, "Where?"

"Don't you dare lie to me, Ivy. I'm no fool," he warns.

I reach for his arm. "Dad, I'm confused. What's going on?"

He tenses for a moment, and my heart feels like it'll beat out of my chest.

It reminds me that I need to be careful. I don't need my father having another heart attack. And I definitely wouldn't want that to be my fault.

He steps closer, accusing, "I told you to stay away from him, Ivy."

"Who?" I stupidly ask.

"That boy, Dax. I know you were with him. Don't lie about it," he seethes.

My eyes widen as I try to look innocent. My mind races with what direction to take this, and I remember what I rehearsed. I recover and admit, "Yeah, he took me on his sailboat."

"I was clear you weren't to see him!"

Anger fills me. "Dad, it's not fair for you to tell me not to hang out with him. He's been a good friend to me."