Page 45 of Fortress of the Brave

She smiles. “Thanks, Dante.”

I try not to glance around too much. Being in Mia’s personal space feels exactly that…personal.

It’s very tidy. Nice lighting throughout and a view of the skyline. But I can’t see her living here. It seems too empty.

I glance at the framed photos of Rayne and Mia on the walls and other photos of her and her friends. I see one of them as kids with what must be their parents.

I smile to myself.

* * *

Mia ghosts me all day.

She isn’t outwardly rude, but she does go out of her way to avoid me.

I feel bad, like a real douchebag, because I think she’s pissed at me that I left her hanging. I thought I was doing the right thing, now I realize how stupid that was.

I decide to leave Darko to it and go down to the diner on the corner and grab a coffee, clear my head. I won’t get through the next two days if I don’t get my head straight.

When it’s time for dinner, I wear a suit and tie. Not because the place is fancy, but because that’s what I’d usually wear when going out for dinner.

“Never eaten Japanese food before,” Darko says in his thick accent as he peruses the menu.

I chuckle. “Really?”

He looks around. “Do you think they’d be able to make me a burger?”

I shake my head. “Can’t take you anywhere, old friend.”

10

DANTE

I don’tlike Mia being mad at me.

It’s a recent phenomenon that I didn’t count on.

We’ve trailed them all afternoon while they shopped, waiting for the movers to leave before the cleaners arrive.

I need to talk to her properly. Explain that I was trying to do the right thing, not be an asshole. Instead, I am sitting here in this stuffy restaurant trying not to stare at her.

As if things couldn’t get any worse, this Tom guy shows up.

If the guy was gay, I’d have no problems. Or if he was just a friend with no interest in her, ditto. But he clearly has more on his mind than Japanese noodles.

He watches her intently whenever she talks and glances at her when he thinks no one is looking.

I clench my fist on my thigh and bear the exchange while we eat dinner.

My eyes flick over to them again as I drink my soda. Darko’s on the clock, so he’s not drinking. However, I have decided if I add alcohol to my already fueling anger, I might do something I’ll regret.

Laughter rings out from their table. Tom joins in, of course, as I try not to imagine choking him to death with my bare hands.

Are they just friends?When I watch her in my periphery, she shows no sign that she’s into him. She focuses more on her friends who are telling an animated story that keeps her laughing.

Her friends have accepted her move, or so I’ve observed. They seem very supportive.

Our eyes meet across the room, but she dabs her mouth with her napkin and turns away.

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