Page 46 of Unleashed

Maren huffs out an annoyed breath. “She had a busy day. She’s tired.” Her brows lift. “Why aren’t you asleep? I can’t imagine you’re feeling well rested after spending the past few nights in your car, weirdo.”

I will admit, sleeping in my car isn’t the most comfortable, but it’s not awful. It’s certainly better than tossing and turning wondering if she’s okay. I sleep better knowing I can quickly get to Maren if she needs me.

“Is that your way of inviting me to sleep in your bed?” Now that I’m thinking about it, that would be a perfect solution. “Because I accept.”

Maren scoffs, her mouth dropping open. “Absolutely not. Can you imagine what Zara would think if she woke up to find a strange man sleeping next to me?”

That’s an interesting reason to reject the idea. Not because she doesn’t want me in her bed, but because she’s worried about the confusion it would cause for her little sister. It also tells me Maren doesn’t let anyone sleep in her bed. Which is good to know. Because thinking about another man relaxing on her sheets makes me consider dragging the mattress into the yard and setting it on fire.

“I’m not a strange man.” I smile a little bit, thinking of how eager her sister was to know more about me. “We met yesterday.”

“Do you really want to bring that up? Because I don’t think you want me to start asking questions about why I keep finding you parked under a tree across the street.” Maren successfully reroutes the conversation.

And she’s right. I don’t want her to start asking questions. Mostly because I don’t know that I want to come up with answers. It’s easiest for everyone if we just ignore my questionable decisions and behaviors.

“You’re trying to distract me.” I decide to circle back to her questionable decisions and behaviors. “Where were you today that made Zara so tired?”

“Oh my God. Why are you so annoying?” Maren ducks under one of my arms, successfully escaping before going into her kitchen to open the refrigerator. “I’m allowed to take a day off work.”

I straighten, a little confused. “Of course you’re allowed to take a day off work. You get three weeks of paid vacation, plus seven personal days.” Again, my eyes drift to Zara’s door. “Is that not enough? Because I can email HR right now, and⁠—”

Maren slams the refrigerator door and turns to me, rolling her eyes. “If you email HR at seven thirty on a Friday night to ask if I can have more personal days, they’re going to blame me.” She walks past, carrying a can of diet soda in one hand and a container of chopped fruit in the other. “And I’m not about to have Bernice pissed at me.”

I think of the woman in charge of HR, and imagine the passive-aggressive way she would attempt to make Maren’s life difficult if she believed her to be responsible for a late night email. “I would make sure she knows I’m the problem.”

It’s what I always do. I absorb blame. It’s easiest if everyone assumes I’m the problem and directs their ire my way. I can handle it, and it keeps things running smoothly between employees and departments.

Maren snorts as she drops to her butt on the couch. “You don’t want that chick mad at you. She’ll make sure anything you attempt to file takes three times as long as it should.”

I assume there’s only one way she knows this, and now I’m really contemplating sending Bernice an email. “Is there something you need me to handle?”

Now that I know more of what Maren’s life is really like, I can only imagine all the ways Bernice could cause issues. Vacation requests. Direct deposits. Health insurance changes. And it wouldn’t just cause issues for Maren. It could also cause issues for her sister.

I’m not in the habit of firing people, but if Bernice has caused any problems for Zara, she might be looking for a new job.

Maren switches on the television. “Why are you so dramatic all the time?” She starts a show on one of the streaming channels then drops the remote to the cushion beside her. “Not everything requires immediate action. Sometimes people just want to complain.”

“But…” My brain seems to buffer for a minute as I try to process what she’s saying. “If there’s a problem, it needs a solution.”

It’s pretty much my entire job description. How I spend the majority of my days and even a large number of my nights. There’s always some sort of a problem happening at a company as large as McKinley Security Systems, and, ultimately, solving it falls on me.

“Not always.” Maren kicks her bare feet up onto the coffee table as she pops the lid off the container of fruit. “Some problems can’t be fixed.” There’s an odd tone in her voice as she says the last part, and I can’t resist the temptation it presents.

“Like what?”

Maren pops a grape between her lips, chewing as she watches her show. “What do you mean, like what?”

“You said some problems can’t be fixed. What are they?” I need to know what problem she has that can’t be fixed.

That she believes can’t be fixed. Because I know I can fix it.

Maren stops chewing, her eyes rolling my way. “I don’t think I said that.”

“You definitely did.” She may not have intended to, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.

She swallows the mouthful of fruit, her throat flexing as it goes down. “I just meant in general.”

I shake my head, because I know damn well Maren isn’t a general sort of person. She is direct and to the point and will say exactly what needs to be said, regardless of how it will land.