Page 42 of Daddy's Mercy

“Well, be that as it may, you’re still wearing a sweater and I still reserve the right to send your sassy butt back inside if I decide it’s too cold.”

“You’re bossy.”

“Yup. Unapologetically so.” He waited for her to finish loading up her waffle and dig in before speaking again. “What kind of things do you like to do when you’re not holed up here with bossy ol’ me?”

Giggling, she lifted a shoulder as she sliced off another sugar-drenched section of waffle. “Nothing, really. I’m kind of boring.”

“I very much doubt that. What about the art and stuff in your apartment? Where did you find all that?”

“Thrift stores, antique shops. Wherever.”

“I like it. It’s all different but it looks good together.”

“Thanks. For a while I thought I might like to be an interior designer but…” Another shrug, but this time without the accompanying happy giggle. “It’s a lot of work.”

“And? You’re smart, and I’m no expert, but it seems like you have a good eye for it. Why don’t you try it?”

“I don’t know. I mentioned it to Nate once and he told me not to worry about it. That he’d take care of me and… never mind.” He caught just a glimpse of the pink coloring her cheeks before she ducked her head again, her hair once more falling around her, blocking her expression from his view. “You don’t want to hear about him.”

Deliberately keeping his tone and expression neutral, Dean reached across the island and squeezed her hand. “If it helps to talk about it, I’m happy to listen.”

“There’s not really much to say. He was nice to me. Sometimes, I wonder if I fell for him because he was the first person in my life to ever really show me true kindness.” Now her laugh was full of bitterness. “Jesus, that makes me sound pathetic.”

“No, it doesn’t. But what about Livvy? I thought you two were friends.”

“That only happened recently. Like really recently. She was honestly kind of mean before that.”

“Mean? Livvy?” Even to his own ears the disbelief was clear in his tone, and he could have kicked himself when MaryAnn seemed to shrink further into herself.

“I’m sorry. I know y’all are friends, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“That’s not what I meant, baby. I’ve just never seen Livvy be mean to anyone, so I was surprised.”

“It wasn’t like, really bad, and it wasn’t all the time. But I think she and Mr. Monroe were going through a rough patch and it made her grumpy. That’s what Patty said, anyway.”

That must have been what James had been talking about the night before. “That makes sense. It’s hard to be out of sync with the person you love, especially when you have a dynamic like theirs. I’m not saying that to excuse her behavior, but I do understand it.”

“I guess.”

Poor thing. He gave her hand another supportive squeeze. “I’m sorry you had to deal with her grumpies, babygirl. When did Nate come into the picture?”

“A few months before… before the first attack. We ran into each other at this little deli around the corner from the office when I went to pick up lunch for everyone. I thought it was like, kismet or something, you know? But the cops said he was probably watching me for a while, figuring he could use me to get to Olivia somehow.”

Which, unfortunately, had worked like a charm. But he wasn’t about to add to the guilt she already carried by pointing that out. “Did he ask you out?”

“Not right away. We kept running into each other, which just added to the romantic idea I had in my head of the universe putting us together, forcing us to keep meeting until we finally accepted our destiny. I know I sound ridiculous.”

“You sound like a woman who fell in love with the wrong man. Hey, look at me, babygirl.” He waited until she’d lifted her reluctant gaze to his before continuing. “None of that is ridiculous or pathetic or whatever other lies you’re trying to tell yourself. People fall for the wrong people all the time.”

“Yeah, well, most women who fall in love with the wrong man don’t fall for serial killers looking to murder their friends.”

“I think he’s technically classified as a spree killer but that… is not helpful,” he said with a sheepish smile when she glared at him. “Sorry. I’ve been reading up on the case the past few days.”

“Whatever kind of killer he was, I fell completely head over heels in love with him. So, what does that make me?”

“It makes you human, baby.” He really needed to see about setting up a call with her therapist if she was stuck here too much longer. She needed someone far more qualified than him to talk through these issues with, to help her work through the trauma of her childhood and how it connected to her falling victim to the likes of Nathaniel Cooke.

Their conversation, however enlightening, hadn’t really given him much more to go on as far as Cooke’s possible whereabouts. But he didn’t have the heart to push her any further just then, so he stood and carried his plate to the sink. “Why don’t you run upstairs and get changed into something warmer while I clean up.”

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