Free Duplicity by Kristina M Sanchez

Well .  . .” Lilith forced
the corners of her mouth down. “I can try.”
    He wagged a finger in her face.”Try not.”
    “Yeah, yeah. Get
out of here, Yoda. I’ll be out in a minute.”
     
    ~0~
     
    They ended up mini-golfing—one of Lilith’s great pleasures. She
didn’t get to indulge much—neither Mal nor Dana understood her glee at
outsmarting the convoluted courses—so she didn’t bother to disguise her
giddiness.
    “Yeah, swinging pole. You’re my bitch now!” she whisper-hissed at the offending thing, jumping up and
down.
    “Honey, it took you seven tries to get it in the hole.”
    “That’s what she said.” She put her hands on her hips. “And that’s
beside the point. I’ve defeated this ball-blocking pole of evilness. It is my
bitch.”
    He mussed her hair. “Whatever you say.”
    All smiles, they moved on to the next hole. “I’m glad you seem to
be feeling better.”
    “What are you talking about? Better as opposed to what?”
    He glanced over at her as he straightened, lining up the putter
with the ball. “Dana yelled at me yesterday. She said you’d been emo and miserable since your birthday.”
    Lilith rolled her eyes. “Self-important much?” She shook her head. “It wasn’t all you. You didn’t help, but it was a very bad
week all around.”
    He took his shot and turned to look at her without watching to see
if he’d made it. “What else happened?” he asked. There was an odd tone to his
voice that almost distracted Lilith.
    “Whoa! Why are you not watching this? You just made a damn
hole-in-one.”
    Mal spared a glance over his shoulder but turned back to her just
as quickly. “Lilith? What made your week so bad?”
    This time the tone of his voice held her attention. She focused on
him, startled to see a hint of anxiety around the corners of his eyes. “ Just .  . . things.”
    He wouldn’t let her dodge the question. Mal put a hand on her
shoulder, his voice more demanding as he pressed her. “At
work?”
    She took a step back, away from his hand, and knit her eyebrows together
as she stared. “Dude. It was just a bad week, okay?”
    “But how?”
    “What’s your boggle, citizen?” She was trying to go for humor,
harkening back to a movie they used to watch over and over as kids, but it was
falling flat.
    Lilith felt a rush of frustration followed by an uncomfortable
finger of fear. She’d been trying not to think of Trey and the mess of memories
he’d triggered. It was making her more than a little unnerving to have Mal
poking around this subject. She didn’t want to talk about Trey, and she didn’t
want to talk about the past.
    Mal had that look on his face that told her whatever he was
thinking wasn’t going to please her.
    “Dammit, Mal. You’re not about to say something stupid again, are you?”
    “ No .  . .” He looked off a
moment, and she could see his fingers flexing around his putter. “Okay. If you
want to know the truth, you scared the hell out of Dana last night.”
    Lilith recoiled. “What? Why?”
    “She said you’ve been a funk, like I said, but last night she said
you were like a ghost—like you weren’t there at all.”
    Hunching her arms inward, Lilith stepped forward, covering up her
extreme discomfort by setting up her shot. “I don’t know what you’re talking
about.”
    When she straightened up, he grabbed her by the shoulders, forcing
her to face him. “ Dana .  . . she was
freaking out because she thought maybe . . .” His voice was
uncertain, small a he stumbled over his words. “Maybe it was happening again.”
    Lilith’s head shot up. “No.”
    Mal stared at her as if trying to read the truth in her eyes.
    “Really, Mal. No.” Her
tone was steady, and he let out a gust of breath, reassured.
    “When you woke up this morning, you were so you,” he said with a
sheepish smile. “I thought Dana must be crazy.” He dropped his hands to his
sides. “Sorry.”
    Lilith didn’t answer right