“Mrs. Farrow, perhaps now isn’t the right time to see him,” Louis suggests.
But I ignore him, closing the door behind me as I hurry over the stone path in my heels, trying not to get them stuck in any cracks so I don’t break a damn ankle. As I get closer, I can hear this kind of rhythmic thumping, and I pause at the door, waiting to hear anything else. When I don’t, I carefully crack the door open.
The door is far enough away from the main hall that contains all the gym equipment that I can see through without being heard.
And Malakai is right there, in the middle of the gym, bare feet moving over a mat as he pounds into a punching bag, the leather sack swinging roughly with every smash of his fist.
Sweat pours from him, dampening his hair and bare torso and he’s completely focused, brows low, eyes on the target.
He has that same pissed off expression marring his handsome face, and guilt gnaws on me as I realize I shouldn’t have said it was a mistake.
Being a bitch isn’t necessarily the goal here, but I panicked.
Letting out a breath, I backtrack out the door, gently closing it behind me and then take the path around the house, finding Dennis waiting just like Louis said.
“Hi Dennis,” I smile but it’s short and not entirely all real.
“Mrs. Farrow.”
“Olivia.” I correct.
His lips twitch as if to smile but it never comes and he opens the back door for me, waiting until I’m inside and safely buckled in before he shuts it behind me.
“Where to?”
“The hotel,” I stare back toward the gym, “I’ll be a few hours again today so there’s no need to wait for me. I can call you when I’m done.”
“I’m all yours for the day,” He pulls away from the house, “I’ll just wait.”
“I know it’s useless fighting you,” I say, “Actually before we get to the hotel can we stop at the mall?”
He nods and then switches on the radio, cutting all conversation as he drives me into the city.
Chapter Twenty-nine
I come out of the mall with a bag and two fresh coffees, handing one to Dennis before he can reach for the bag to take it from me.
“I figured you were a black coffee kind of guy,” I say, sipping at my own latte.
He nods, “Thank you.”
“Welcome!” I chirp, slipping into the back seat of the car, dropping the bag onto the seat next to me, “Hey, Dennis?”
“Yes, Mrs. Farrow?”
“Olivia,” I pronounce it like I’m talking to a child, “Can I ask you a question?”
“I might not answer it,” He admits.
“That’s fair.” I nod, contemplating if I really want to ask this. It’s none of my business and I don’t really care about the answer, do I?Do I?
“Has Malakai had many women at the house?”
Dennis’s eyes snap to mine in the mirror, his thick brows pulling low, “What makes you ask that?”
“Just curious.”
“No. He hasn’t.”
