Page 23 of The Art of Dying

“Nita knows about us,” I said, walking with her to my truck. “Not a huge leap to assume Mason knows, too. He hasn’t reached out, hasn’t come home. I think he knows better than to bother you.”

“Fingers crossed. If he’s busy with a new victim, then yes.”

“New victim?” I asked, opening the passenger door. “That would make you the former victim, and you’re no victim, Mack.”

“I did a lot of research after it ended, trying to figure out what the hell happened. I’ve been with jerks, with cheaters, with liars… something is wrong with Mason. People like him require to be worshipped and fed energy to validate their own image of themselves. They always have potential resources of women in the wings, and when the current relationship doesn’t give them enough, they move on to the next. And then the next, and the next. But they still come back when they’re between victims or bored, just to see if they still have control or access. They always come back, even if it’s just to drive by your house or call to say they’re sorry your Great Aunt Ethel died, just to see if you’re having a weak moment where they can swoop in, or to make sure you’re not doing too well without them. They need to believe they weren’t the problem.”

“Wow,” I said, surprised. “You thought you were getting a boyfriend and ended up with a PhD in psychology.”

She sighed. “You’re not wrong. There’s so much more to it than that. A whole cycle. And even though they don’t know each other, they all seem to use the same playbook. It’s bizarre.”

“Well, baby, I don’t have that playbook.”

“I know,” she said, leaning over to peck my lips.

“We can stop by Sully’s shop and call Lucas and Alecia to see if they’re free. That way if they’re in, we can stop by the store on the way home and pick up some steaks to grill. We should probably invite Sully, too.”

“Sounds like a plan to me. But we’re going to have to break down and get one of those cell phones before I leave. I might go crazy if I have to wait to hear your voice until we’re both around a landline to talk.”

“You’re gonna miss me, huh?”

“It makes my palms sweat and my stomach sink when I think about it.”

I closed the door and walked around, thinking about what she said, and what kind of man it would take to make the woman who loved him feel the need to research reasons why she was being treated so poorly. Mack was my dream girl. She was fun, chill, down to go shooting or hiking or have a beer at the bar or watch a movie at home. She looked just as amazing in my T-shirt with messy hair and no makeup as she did wearing a dress and heels and those stick-on nails. Everywhere we went, men wished they were with her, and women wished they looked like her. She was kind, affectionate, amazing in bed, spoke her mind, and was a hard worker. It didn’t make sense for anyone to look for the next best thing. There was no greener grass than where she stood. Mason had to have been one insecure piece of shit not to appreciate everything that Mack was.

“What?” Mack asked, looking at me as I stared over my steering wheel. I put the gear into Drive. “Nothing.”

“You were staring into space, and you look a little annoyed. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“I was just thinking what a fucking idiot Mason is. But if he hadn’t hooked you and brought you here, I would’ve never met you. And Mack… I don’t even remember what it was like before you. It’s barely been three weeks and I’m already so far gone, I’m dreading packing my bags. I don’t want to leave you. I don’t want to spend a day without you.”

I looked over to her. She had tears in her eyes.

“Please tell me those are happy tears,” I said.

“I just… I know exactly what you mean.”

“So, I’m not over here falling alone?”

She shook her head. “I’m already at the bottom. Kersplat.”

I reached over and cradled her cheek in my hand. “I didn’t want to scare you off.”

“Nothing about you scares me, Kitsch.”

I pressed my lips against hers, closing my eyes tight. I told Sully the first night I met her that I thought I was in love. I didn’t realize it would take less than a month to know for sure.

Sully was standing outside his machine shop when we pulled into the small parking lot, wearing light blue coveralls covered in grease and a smile on his face.

“Hey,” I said, hopping out of the truck. “Can Mack use your phone for a quick call? She wants to ask Lucas and Alecia over to supper tonight. You’re welcome, too. We’re grilling steaks.”

“Agh, man, I wish I could. I’ll be lucky get out of here by midnight.” He looked at Mack and pointed to the front door of the building. “Go ahead!”

“Thank you!” Mack said, hurrying inside.

“It’s in the office to your left.” He turned to me. “So, it’s goin’ well, huh?”

I watched her chat on the phone through the large window, excitement on her face. “She’s perfect, Sully. Never been this happy.”

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