Page 56 of Wasted

A pang he hadn’t felt for a long time struck him behind the ribs. Even her dad’s demeaning comments hadn’t given him that sting of rejection, the reduction to a worthless nuisance. The ghost of his childhood.

“Oh, you’ll figure it out. You’ve always done whatever it takes to make him happy, no matter who gets hurt. Just so long as it isn’t him, right?” Cillian spun away, marched to his jeep, and got behind the wheel. He might as well start the engine and go. She would stay and get a ride with her sister now.

But as Cillian reached for the key he’d left in the ignition, Victoria crossed in front of the jeep and walked to the passenger door.

She opened it and took her seat with the characteristic grace even the blowup with her dad couldn’t shake. She didn’t say a word.

Cillian kept his mouth shut and started the engine. Because even though she hadn’t defended him or shaken off her father’s hold, and even though she hadn’t appreciated Cillian’s help, she was still sitting in his jeep, choosing him as her ride home.

Chapter

Seventeen

Victoria blinked at the dark ceiling above her bed. She rolled over to check the lit clock on the nightstand.

1:12 a.m.

She let out a small groan and returned to her back. Why couldn’t she sleep? She had to get up in less than five hours to get ready for work. She wasn’t even a night person.

But the logic didn’t seem to make a difference to her very awake system. She felt wired, energized, as if she’d drunk caffeinated coffee too late in the evening. And yet, exhaustion weighted her limbs at the same time.

So much for getting to bed early since she didn’t have much documentation—the one silver lining of missing her patient appointments due to police interrogation. Remembering that humiliating and frustrating experience, however, would not help her fall asleep.

Perhaps Mom’s warm milk trick would work. Or some green tea.

Victoria pulled back the comforter and sat up, dangling her legs off the side of the bed to find her shearling slippers.

Max’s dark eyes gleamed at her, catching the light from the hallway outside her partially open door.

She smiled at him where he lay in his open crate, his preferred spot even when he didn’t have to be confined. “I can’t sleep tonight for some reason. I’m going to get some tea. Would you like to join me?”

She stood and slipped on her robe as she went to the door.

The sound of Max rising and padding behind her drew her gaze to him.

“You’re a sweetheart to accompany me. Thank you.” She pushed open the door and walked through the hallway she always left illuminated while she slept. She kept the lights on in the kitchen, too, after reading home security advice to leave lights on overnight.

Now if she could only have some way to deter unhelpful thoughts from preying on her mind and keeping her awake.

Thump.

She whirled toward the sound, her heart leaping into her throat.

Max. The giant Leonberger had simply lain on the floor by the kitchen cabinets, which usually included a dramatic thud as he collapsed.

She pressed her hand to her chest where her heart pounded through the skin. No wonder she couldn’t sleep. Her nerves were wound tighter than the snarls she used to have to untangle from Treese’s long hair after every shower the girl took.

The dangers and stress of the past few days were apparently getting to Victoria more than she’d allowed herself to acknowledge.

She went to the corner cabinet and pulled out her tea kettle. It wasn’t surprising she would be somewhat shaken. In the span of four days, she’d been threatened by a knife-wielding thug, found her friend and patient dead, was followed to her car, knocked down by a mysterious attacker, and questioned by the police. Oh, and someone had left a threatening note on her car. She didn’t have to be weak for such a series of events to put her on her guard.

But as she filled the kettle from the faucet and set it on the stove to boil, the truth she wasn’t facing broke free of the vault where she’d tried to keep it locked away.

She sighed and turned from the stove, her gaze falling on the handsome dog who watched her with his usual serious expression.

“Oh, Max.” She went to him and crouched to stroke his soft ears and plant a kiss on his velvety head. “I can’t fool you, can I? You know something’s wrong. Somehow, I’m in trouble, even though I always try to do the right thing.”

His dark eyes stared into hers, as if he understood every word.