Page 69 of The Maverick
The image of the severed finger popped into my head. “Do you know who the finger belongs to yet?”
“Yes.”
“Who?” I leaned into the table that separated us. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because of this.” He pressed a finger to the space between my furrowed eyebrows. “You’re stressed again. I only found out yesterday.”
I recalled him mentioning he’d had a bad day yesterday. “So you kept the news to yourself to protect me from anxiety?”
“What’s wrong with that? Isn’t that what a caring fiancé should do?”
I wanted to retort that this was a fake relationship and he didn’t need to go overboard. But my heart softened toward him. No one had ever been this thoughtful or protective of me.
“Nothing’s wrong. You make me look like I’m failing in the fiancée category.”
His eyes darkened with mischief. “You can always make it up to me later. I’ll take a rain check.”
How could he still joke like this?
I didn’t reply to that comment. “Whose finger was it?”
“You don’t need to know.”
“I certainly do.” I gaped at him. “It was sent to my grand opening. That was a message. We’re in this together, aren’t we? You agreed to help me, but I’m not going to sit here and do nothing if someone is threatening you or me.”
Something shifted in his eyes. “What would you do if someone threatened your fiancé?”
“I’m an artist, Attikus. I have extremely creative ways to hurt my enemies.”
“You’ve piqued my interest, Lily Pad.” A sly smile tilted onto his lips. “How?”
“If I tell you, I might incriminate myself.”
“It’s okay. I won’t tell a soul.” He pressed a finger to his lips.
“Let’s just say that a pencil, pen, or paintbrush can be a useful weapon.” I pursed my lips. “I’ll attack when they least expect it.” Pretending to hold an invisible paintbrush in my hand, I stabbed it into the air. “Unpredictability is an advantage.”
“You sound like a war general who’s been strategizing an attack plan.”
He had no idea how many sleepless nights I’d experienced trying to find a way out of this mess. I’d envisioned several ways to retaliate against those who had hurt my mom and me. It was my therapy to live out the fantasy in my mind.
“When you’re surrounded by dangerous people, you have no choice but to come up with several attack plans . . . and several escape plans.”
His expression shifted, and I could tell he wanted to ask me a question. But he said, “I should be extra careful around you.”
“You should,” I said. “I have to protect my assets.”
He smiled, knowing I’d repeated his words.
“So whose finger was it? I’ll keep asking you until you tell me.”
“My high school principal.”
“What?” My eyes widened. “What does he have to do with me or the gallery?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out. Maybe the package was meant for me.”
No name was on the package, but I’d assumed it was for me. Even so, something seemed off.
