Double Edge | WATTYS 2023 SHORTLIST + AMBYS 2023 WINNER

Chapter 15

Mark Sanchez. My best friend. My boy. The man I'd been looking for, thinking he was in danger, stood in the long, over-decorated hall of a house that didn't belong to him. Brenda frowned as her gaze bounced from me to Mark. She wiped her eyes and extended her hand to him. "Baby," she said.

My brows shot up. Baby?

"I don't know why he's here." Brenda reached for the spilled bottle of wine. With the emptied Moscato against her chest, she shook her head. "He didn't call me, text me, nothing. I swear." She defended herself. Instinct told me to scan her, to check her heart rate, but I couldn't. My systems flickered; unsuccessful.

"Interference detected. Manual override required."

Mark approached us. He rolled his head around his shoulders and reached for Brenda's hand, caressing her fingertips. "I know," he said. "You don't have to explain."

As he stood in front of me, I at him. Confusion tore through me. I felt betrayed; on so many levels. Why was he here? Why was he with Brenda, living together, playing house? Why hadn't Ruben told me? He tried to, didn't he? I hadn't stayed to listen.

Maggie slid down my chest. Her tiny hands clung to my shirt as her pink booties met the floor. Brenda looked at her, but Maggie didn't leave my side. She scooted closer, clinging to my leg; she avoided the spilled wine inching toward her feet.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. Ruben tried to tell me, but I cut him off and ran. Tommy warned me, but I killed him. My impulsiveness left me confused. "What am I missing?" Drawing in a sharp breath, I narrowed my gaze. "Mark, you're here?"

He sighed and lowered his head. There was something different about him. Yes, it'd been years since I last saw him; yes, people changed. But Mark—there was something in the surrounding air. A darker presence. Stronger, even. Tonguing my cheek, I couldn't put my finger on it, but my body was on high alert. "There's nothing wrong with you?" I asked.

"Why would there be?" He lifted his hands beside his head. "Did someone say I was in trouble or something?"

"No, but," I placed my hand on top of Maggie's head, "I saw the house on our old block, I saw Tommy—"

"Oh, you did?" Mark laughed. "So, you killed him, huh? Good shit."

Good shit. He knew what I'd done. Did the cops find Tommy's body? It had to have happened. Griff had the murder report in his hands. Mark would've gotten the phone call from detectives; it was his house. But Mark seemed so nonchalant about this as if he expected it.

"Look, I don't care about that," he said. "What I care about is this."

I blinked at him. Observing the house, I noticed the photos on the wall. Family pictures; him, Brenda, and Maggie. I gritted my teeth. "This? You and Brenda?"

Mark snorted. "You mad about that, bro?"

Mad? Who said I was angry? Yes, I was. Not at the relationship; Brenda was a grown woman and could do what she wanted. But no one told me. I knew I wasn't owed an explanation, but if my daughter was in the mix, I felt I deserved something. Explanations. Reasonings. And truths—like why was Mark in this house owned by another man? A man whose name showed up in the robbery reports. I was confused.

Maggie gripped my jeans. She looked up at me, and I met her gaze. Caressing the back of her head, I sighed and glared at Mark. "No," I lied, "I have too many questions to be."

He clicked his teeth. "I bet. Sure, let's talk." Looking at Brenda, he pointed at the liquor cabinet on the opposite wall. "Brenda, pour your baby daddy a drink, hm?" He glanced back at me. "Whiskey?"