Chapter 28 I’LL BE RIGHT BACK
Chapter twenty-eight
I’LL BE RIGHT BACK
Cameron turns around when he hears my footsteps, and a smile breaks the serious expression he wore for Leah. “What’s wrong?”
“I need to talk to you for a second.”
He nods and leads me into one of the empty hall bathrooms, closing the door behind us. He leans back against the sink vanity to be closer to eye level with me. “What’s up?”
“I don’t want you to talk to Delaney again,” I admit. “She was so awful to you earlier.”
He smiles and reaches out for me, and I step forward so that I am standing between his outstretched legs.
“I can handle her. Don’t worry. Although you should probably get back to Leah before she starts to think something is going on between us.
I don’t want it to be awkward for you if she decides to stay. ”
“I don’t care what she thinks.” I drape my arms over his shoulders to punctuate my point. “I am pretty sure she already suspects something, anyway, based on the way she was looking at us back there.”
“She looked worried about your cut,” he counters, and rests his hands on my hips. “Which I am too, for the record. But if she had the pleasure of seeing you in action like I have since picking you up at the airport today, she would know that you are just accident-prone.”
I smile that he already understands that part of me, although bad luck is a better descriptor than accident-prone, but we can argue over the semantics of it later. Right now, I just want to enjoy the fact that the things I dislike most about myself, he seems to think are cute quirks.
“I actually do want to check in with Delaney real fast, though,” he continues, and gently pulls my arms away from his neck. “So I’ll be right back.”
His last words produce an involuntary jolt through me, and I put my hands on his chest to stop him from standing. “Don’t say that.”
“Say what?”
“I’ll be right back. Isn’t that one of the rules for scary movies, to never say that?”
He laughs. “I have no idea. I was always too chicken to watch them.”
I think back to all the spooky things that Monika has made me sit through with her over the years. She loves true crime most of all, but also has a passion for scary movies, especially nineties slashers.
“I am almost positive that saying I’ll be right back is a big no-no in them. People who say it usually end up hurt or . . .” I trail off, not willing to say the word murder out loud.
“Okay, then, how about I say, I’ll see you in a few minutes. Has that phrase ever resulted in anyone being hurt in one of your movies?”
“I think that one is safe.”
“Perfect,” he says, and leans down to place a soft kiss on my lips before he leads us back into the hallway.
I head to my bedroom as Cameron jogs down the stairs, and find Leah sitting on my bed, arms crossed over her chest. “Cameron is going to check in with—”
“What are you doing?” she interrupts.
I look around, confused. “What do you mean?”
“What are you doing with Cameron?”
Even though I am not ashamed of the relationship that is budding between us, my instincts tell me to keep it to myself, at least for now.
“Nothing,” I say, but shift back and forth uncomfortably on my feet.
“We were downstairs working on the dishes when the power went out, and he walked me up to my room because it was dark.”
She stands up and places an idle hand on her lower belly. “It seems like there is something more going on between you two. Was Delaney telling the truth? Are you guys going to take over the retreat?”
“No!” I say. “There is not even an ounce of truth to what Delaney is accusing us of.”
“Good. Because I’m going to be honest, Drew, I don’t like him. He has overstepped Delaney’s role as host multiple times and has inserted himself in the retreat without being invited. He’s the reason this entire weekend has gone downhill—”
“It would have gone downhill a lot faster if he hadn’t stepped in the few times that he did,” I argue. “What events did he insert himself into? He helped Ollie prepare the tasting, but other than that, he hasn’t even been around the group.”
She nods slowly as I speak, as if my words confirm something for her.
“What?”
“You’re already in deep.”
“No, I’m not,” I say, but the blush on my cheeks gives me away.
She walks past me to leave, apparently done with this conversation, and maybe done with me, too, but pauses at the door.
“I’ve decided to stay, because I really liked getting to know you and Val earlier, so let’s keep that going this weekend.
I’d hate for this to turn into you and Val being coupled off so that I’m the odd woman out. ”
“It won’t be like that,” I say, and wonder if that is the real reason she doesn’t want me to get involved with Cameron.
She presses her lips together and leaves to return to her own room.
I stand where she left me until the door to her bedroom closes and locks, then turn back to my bed to check my phone for any new messages.
There will be plenty of time for me to think about everything that happened with Cameron and figure out how to smooth things over with Leah, but the most important thing on my mind right now is to see if my phone has signal again so that I can check for baby updates.
There is an unread message in our group chat from Monika saying that she is going to bed, and to call her if there is any news overnight.
I add my own text after hers that I am available anytime if they get a chance to call, but to enjoy every second.
The plan is for both Scott and Gabe to be in the waiting room while the birth mom is in labor, so that they can be the first ones to meet their baby boy.
They have been dreaming of this moment since they initially matched.
I turn the volume all the way up on my phone ringer and then toss it back onto the bed so that I can head for the bathroom.
I flip the switch to turn on the ring of lights that surrounds the mirror and am immediately struck by how bright my eyes look in the reflection.
The color of the dress helps, and I make a mental note to wear more periwinkle in the future, but I wouldn’t be surprised if meeting Cameron isn’t also part of the reason.
Before I can get too in my head about it, I move my attention to assess the knot on my forehead. The bump is visible in this light, but it doesn’t look like it will bruise.
I move on to my thumb. When I try to remove the towel, I find that the dried blood has crusted to the cut.
I turn on the sink to run it under water to soften it.
The cut bleeds again as soon as I can finally remove the towel, so I dry it off as best I can with tissues as I search the cabinets for Band-Aids.
I bleed through the first one I secure to my finger in less than a minute, so I add two more on top of it and go back to my bed to lie down so I can elevate it above my heart.
In the silence that follows, I look up at the ceiling and allow myself to come to terms with the fact that Scott, Gabe, and Monika were right.
Their crazy plan for me to step out and live as if I wasn’t cursed worked.
Within the course of one day, I have found someone who makes me feel alive again, and I will soon be making plans to meet my nephew in person.
I let myself dream about the way it will feel to hold their baby boy in my arms until heavy footsteps approach from the hallway. I pop up to greet Cameron in the doorway and pull him inside so that I can close the door behind us but drop my hand immediately.
“You’re soaked,” I say, as I wipe my hand on my dress and look down to where water drips audibly from his clothes and onto the hardwood floor. “Why didn’t you wear a . . .” My voice trails off when the faint scent of chlorine stings my nose. “Oh my gosh, did you fall in the pool?”
He ignores me and falls back against the wall we were just pressed up against as soon as I close the door.
“Cameron, talk to me,” I say, stepping forward to steady his face between my hands, but keeping enough distance between us so that my dress stays dry.
His pupils are completely blown when his eyes finally meet mine, making them black as ink.
“Cameron—”
“She’s gone.”
“Who’s gone?”
My guess is Delaney, based on her display downstairs, but I suppose it could also be Judith. I can’t imagine either of their departures causing him to be this distraught, though, even with his aversion to being on the roads in poor weather.
“Delaney,” he confirms, then closes his eyes tight as if he is blocking out a mental image.
“Okay,” I say. “Well, I know you didn’t want anyone going out in the storm but—”
He shakes his head, and a fresh shot of ice-cold panic chills my blood.
“Cameron, what is going on?”
He continues to shake his head with his eyes firmly closed.
“When you say gone . . .” I press, but I physically can’t get the rest of the words past the lump that is forming in my throat, because if he is about to say what I think he is, then that means that my curse has bled outside of its normal lines.
Bad things can happen to anyone or anything that is around me at any time, but the gravest of dangers have always been limited to my birthday and Friday the thirteenths, which I made it through unscathed last week when Scott and Gabe surprised me at the bookstore.
Unless my curse was living up to the phrase I’d assigned it, new and novel, and was just luring me into a false sense of safety for a delayed strike.
“She’s dead,” he finally says, confirming my worst fear. “Delaney is dead.”