His Revenge

Chapter 17 - Maddox

Maddox P.O.V

"Only you, Maddox. I swear." Scarlett tsks from the other side of the thick black curtain covering the changing room entrance. "How could you wait until now to get fitted for your tux? The wedding is right around the corner."

I quickly strip off my jeans and olive green pullover and lay them on the small bench. "Hey. It's not like I'm the groom."

"No, but you are the bride's only brother. So you should've made this more of a priority."

"I tried." I pull on the black tuxedo pants, doing up the zipper. "But work kept me pretty busy lately."

"Mmm. I understand that." She sighs. "And since you mentioned it, are there any new leads on our case?"

"Nope. But I do have a meeting later this week with the port authority. So, hopefully, that will shed some new light on the case." I peek out the curtain to look at her. "Wait. Our?"

"Yes, our." She looks at me over the top of the bridal magazine she's perusing on the white, faux leather loveseat tufted with diamond buttons. "I'm invested now and need to see this through til the end. So, like it or not, I'm your new partner."

I was used to working alone. Preferred it that way, to be honest. The hours of solitude were a welcoming comfort. But why did the idea of partnering with Scarlett in any aspect not sound ridiculously absurd but rather... fitting?

"Okay. And how long will this... partnership last exactly? You're not thinking of making a career change, are you?"

"God, no. Just for this case only. I'm not cut out for doing this full-time."

"Why not? Can't handle the odd hours?"

"No, I can deal with that and even the frustration of waiting for the next lead. It's the breaking the news to someone that their loved ones are gone and never coming home..." She visibly shutters. "I could never."

"Yeah, that part is never easy." I softly admit, letting the curtain fall back into place as I slip on the white button-down shirt.

A phone beeping twice makes me pause briefly.

"Is that my phone or yours?" I ask.

"Yours. Want me to get it?"

"Yeah, it's probably Francesca. We're supposed to meet after this to go to her friend's play."

"Play? You hate plays."

"No, I don't." I deny. But the sour expression reflected on my face in the mirror contradicts my words.

"Yeah, you do. If I recall correctly, your sister took you to one a while back, and you bailed halfway through, saying you'd rather...hmm, what was it?" She paused. "Oh, yeah, pluck out your pubic hairs one by one, then sit through another minute of it."

"First of all, that was a monologue, not a play. It's entirely different. And second of all...I'm trying to be a good boyfriend. Alright? So will you-"

"Get the tweezers?"

"No! Cut me some slack."

Silence.

My smile falls. "Scarlett?"

Nothing.

I rip back the curtain and step out. A flood of relief washes over me, seeing her standing beside the couch, staring at my phone. But it's quickly replaced by concern as she slowly lifts her head and looks at me. "What's wr-"

"What's this?" She interjects, holding my phone up for me to see.

"What?" I take the device and quickly scan the message before saying with a straight face, "Nothing."