Page 4 of This is How We Die


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Maybe Mia had been right about my ego. Seeing how invisible I was to Sadie stung. Her lips parted as if to say something, then she pressed them together again, the muscles in her throat working before she looked away.

“I’m fine,” she said finally, her voice catching. “Just worried about someone.”

Before I could ask a follow-up question, she started the treadmill again, the whir of the conveyor belt blending with the pounding of her steps.

If I had an ounce of self-respect, I would have taken my cue and left her alone. “If you want to talk—”

“I don’t.” She slid her headphones back on, sending me a vaguely apologetic glance. “Thanks. You can’t help me.”?

The most words we’d exchanged, and she’d basically told me to fuck off.

Well, at least I’d tried.

Heat surged up my neck, and I backed away before I could embarrass myself further.

I joined Laura in the wedge of sunlight flooding the rooftop boundary, resting my forearms on the wall as the treadmill hummed behind me. With my hands clasped in front of me, I fought the urge to sigh.

“Still not having any luck?” she asked.

We had a partial view of the street and a full view of the rear parking area where our cars were lined up. Mine was the silver Ford Ranger with the heavy duty bullbar, built for solo campingtrips and sudden kangaroo encounters—another part of my life I’d had to let go during the pandemic.

“Nope,” I said. “Might as well file me under the same category as Dustin with the way she treats me.”

Laura gave my foot an affectionate nudge with her Croc. “Don’t be silly. You’re nothing like him.”

I sent her a wry smile. “She can barely look at me. How do you explain that?”

“I don’t know—but whatever it is, it’s not about you. My girls like you,” she said, “and I’m highly sensitive to bad juju. Try not to take it personally.”

“Easy for you to say. She talks to you.” Before Ultimus messed up our routines, Sadie and I would have crossed paths maybe two or three times a week, spending seconds in each other’s company at most. If we hadn’t been stuck in isolation and forced to be around each other month after month, her behaviour wouldn’t even have been on my radar. “You think it’s the tattoos?”

With sleeves on both arms, a full chest piece, and my neck partially covered, it might have been off-putting for someone who didn’t even have pierced ears.

Laura’s gaze skimmed my body from head to toe, lingering here and there, taking far too long for a happily married woman. Her cheeks turned pink, and she visibly swallowed. “I can say with confidence it’s not the tattoos. Whatever it is, it’s nothing physical.”

“I don’t feel safe,” I said. “If you ever look at me like that again, I’m telling Owen.”

“Snitch.” She fanned her face with both hands. “It’s like I just noticed for the first time you’re handsome. Your eyes are such a pretty grey, and your face is ridiculous.”

“It’s a curse, is what it is.”

“Aw, do women only want you for your appearance?” Laura asked, her faux sympathy getting my defences up. “That must be so awful for you.”

“You sound like Mia,” I said, disappointed, “and any other time, that would be a compliment.”

She searched my features, her expression instantly sobering. “Sorry. The women you used to bring home seemed like they were still in their partying phase. I assumed you were right there with them.”

“It hasn’t been that way for a while,” I said, “and believe it or not, most of those women were friends.”

I checked on Sadie again. She was in a full on sprint now, as if she could outrun her thoughts if she moved fast enough.

Laura followed my gaze and lowered her voice. “Are you interested in her?” she asked. “I’ve never thought about it before. You’re both single. About the same age. She’s lovely, and you’re, well… you.”

I didn’t look in Sadie’s direction again, just in case she could see my reflection on the TV screen. “I’ve never thought about it either.”

“Ever?” She raised her brows, her eyes glimmering with humour.

With an amused breath, I stared at the car park again. My gaze landed on Sadie’s white Toyota Yaris, a Matchbox car meant for zipping around the city. “I’m not blind or an idiot. I know a beautiful woman when I see one, if that’s what you mean.”