rather slit my own throat than look at a child in a sexual manner—but it looks authentic to Mark. I let the predatory look linger on those chicken tenders for a few seconds before I’m straightening and feigning innocence. But I feel Mark’s gaze burning into me. As much as it sickens me, I need him to think I have an interest in the depraved things he does. An hour passes while I continue to pretend to show interest in underage girls, looking right above their heads, at their food or whatever else that's close enough to feed the illusion. Nothing too obvious, and I don’t do it every time as not to be suspicious. Just subtle glances here and there. During the hour, Mark continues to grow more inebriated. At the gentlemen’s club, I noticed that he sucks down whiskey like it’s life support. I’m sensing alcoholism alongside his sadism. And of course, that’s when the fucker decides to really look around and catch notice of a still-working Addie, tucked in her little corner and typing away like her life depends on it. ’ve kept an eye on her from my peripheral, and whatever she’s writing, she’s invested. “Now, that’s a beauty,” Mark says, staring straight at Addie. Her mouth is wrapped around her straw as she finishes off a margarita. I watch her from the corner of my eye, but I don’t slide my gaze over right away. I have two seconds to make a decision. Act like I don’t know her or claim her. Before I can open my mouth, Mark slides out his phone and snaps a picture of her, his thumbs moving quickly as he goes to send it to someone. Fucking ballsy to do that shit in front of me. I’m not sure if it was leering at children together or the alcohol, but it was far bolder than I would’ve expected. My hand lands over his phone, halting his progress. He looks up at me, his eyes wide and cheeks flushed. “Whatever you’re about to do, stop it. That’s my girl.” Somehow, Mark’s eyes get even wider. “That girl over there? She’s yours?” I nod my head once. “She likes to be left alone when she works, and I respect her space.” Mark’s white, bushy brows plunge down. “Why didn’t you say anything? Introduce us at least?” “T was planning to after she finished with her work.” Mark’s eyes thin, confusion swirling in his blue eyes. He’s an older man, with sagging skin, liver spots, and knee problems from how he groans every time he stands up. But he’s also an astute man for his age, and his mind is still sharp.