Page 102 of Manic

I nod, forcing a smile. "Go on, baby. Get yourself something to eat."

As Tindra scampers off, I feel my heart thundering in my chest.

The adrenaline from the confrontation with Lexi is still coursing through my veins, making my hands shake.

I set my own plate down, barely touched.

"Skadi," I manage, my voice tight. "I need some air. I'll be right back."

She nods, understanding in her eyes. "Take your time, Meghan. We've got things under control in here."

I slip out the heavy industrial door, gulping in the crisp night air.

The parking lot is dimly lit, shadows stretching across the cracked asphalt.

I lean against the rough brick wall, trying to steady my breathing.

Lexi's smug face flashes in my mind, and I clench my fists.

That bitch.

Who does she think she is, messing with my kid?

The protective rage that surged through me earlier threatens to bubble up again.

A raised voice catches my attention, and I turn my head.

Near the edge of the lot, I spot two figures: a tall man with a neck tattoo and a young woman I recognize as Astrid.

He's snapping at her wildly, his words carrying on the night air.

"Jesus, Astrid, do you ever think?" he snaps. "I love you, but you make the stupidest decisions. Look at what you're wearing!"

I take in Astrid's outfit—a cute black skirt paired with a plaid shirt and combat boot heels.

She looks adorable, in my opinion, but the guy is clearly not impressed.

Astrid's voice is small when she responds. "What's wrong with my outfit?"

The man laughs, a harsh, mocking sound that sets my teeth on edge. "Everything. You lack common sense, Astrid, Jesus."

I feel my protective instincts flaring up again.

Who the hell does this guy think he is?

I edge closer, ready to intervene if needed.

Part of me knows I should mind my own business, but I can't stand by and watch this asshole tear Astrid down.

My mind races, debating whether to step in or not.

Is this how it starts?

The slow erosion of self-esteem, the cutting remarks that chip away at a person's sense of worth?

I've seen it before, lived it before, and the familiar anger rises in my throat like bile.

I take a deep breath, steeling myself.

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