Chapter 21
More than any other time in my life, I can say with certainty that I have no fucking idea what in the world I’m doing.
Which, so far, seems to be the theme of my day.
“What are you doing, Saylor?” I mutter, throwing myself back against my seat.
I’ve been at the restaurant now for a solid ten minutes, and the whole time I’ve been here hiding in my car, I’ve made sure no one walking in could see me.
Hopefully.
I could still run away, after all. There’s a tiny part of me screaming about the fact I’m going to dinner with serial killers. Plus, the one I care about the most has a penchant for horror history’s goriest, nastiest weapon.
I’m probably insane, if I had to guess. Maybe I hit my head between the night at the preserve and now, because this is possibly the worst decision I’ve ever made. By far.
On the bright side, I look better now than I did at the preserve, or at Jed’s house.
My hair is brushed and back in a half-up ponytail.
Thanks to having my bathroom at my disposal, I’d been able to even curl it some and put on eyeliner.
Any more makeup than that would’ve been too much, and disingenuous to what I normally have the motivation for on a daily basis.
“I don’t know if I can do this,” I mutter to the backs of my eyelids.
Even in clothes that make me look less like a traveling hobo, I still have absolutely no confidence in what I’m about to do.
Dressed in a short black skirt, black boots, a tucked in black shirt, and my favorite jacket, I should feel at least okay about myself.
Instead, I feel like I’m dressed in a paper bag.
On the other hand, I’ve made it this far. And I know for certain that if I go home now without even going inside, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.
Even if the guy I’ve dressed up for is a serial killer. That part will never not bother me, I’ve decided. But something about his face, and the way Jed had treated me, makes my heart ache to get over the small, itty bitty sticking point of him murdering the shit out of people with a chainsaw.
Either way, I need to make a decision now. Because there won’t be any going back, no matter what I choose.
You’re a safe option person, my brain tells me comfortingly.
And…she’s right. I’ve always picked the safer option, from clothing to my job.
Never having the guts to take the risky path.
I like to know that my path is as secure as I can make it, and that there’s very little risk involved.
Maybe it’s boring and a little disappointing, but at least I’ve never been in a situation I couldn’t get myself through.
Not to mention, I’ve never been low on money when rent time rolled around, or when I needed to go grocery shopping.
Safe is…well, safe. It’s an attractive option for a reason.
But going in there right now and confronting Jed is the absolute opposite of safe.
It’s dangerous and risky, for all the reasons that parade through my head to the tune of “Night On Bald Mountain.” Hell, I’m even sure the devil is dancing in his mountain somewhere inside my skull, egging on the fears and worries of my choice.
I should go home. Live safely. Coerce my plants to come back to life and wait for my step-mother to call.
But instead of turning the key in the ignition, I yank it out and stuff my keys in the pocket of my jacket.
Next I pocket my phone, and before I know it, I’m kicking open my door and all but slamming it shut.
Then, after a quick apology to Miss Roxie Hart for my rough treatment of her, I walk toward the door like I’m James Bond on a mission to rescue his love interest in that particular movie.
I don’t expect the restaurant to be so nice.
Not even when I’d been staring at The Cascades’ exterior and patio for the past ten minutes from the safety of my Jeep.
A chandelier in the small entryway catches my attention, and soon my eyes are drawn to the glass-walled wine room not too far away and the dark, sultry interior of the place.
Yeah, I’ve definitely never been anywhere as nice as here. Except maybe for the one dinner I joined my Dad and step-mom for one of their anniversary celebrations.
“Can I help you?” The hostess is polite, and beams at me from the stand. Dressed in black and white with a tidily knotted tie that sits perfectly at her throat, she’s every bit as polished as the restaurant itself.
“I’m…meeting some people here,” I murmur, giving her a wide-eyed, nervous look.
Her confusion lasts only a moment, before her smile widens. “You’re with Wren’s party, right?” she asks, a small chuckle in her voice. “He said he might have someone else coming. And that she might be a little nervous.”
“Nervous is probably just him being nice,” I mutter, pulling on the edges of my skirt and suddenly feeling simultaneously over and under-dressed. Butterflies take flight in my stomach, but it’s not a cute or comforting feeling. In fact, it makes me nauseous.
“You’ll be fine,” she assures me, coming around the hostess stand.
“Come on. I’ll take you to their table.” Breezing through the restaurant in between the bar and booths, she takes me in an L-shape until we’re in another room, only filled by four bigger tables that each have their own corner of the room.
Immediately, my eyes lock on Wren’s table. It’s a large booth, with half of the seats facing my way and another bench facing the other. It looks like it could easily fit eight, but tonight, there are only four people there.
Wren sees me first. He and the girl, a blonde-haired woman who looks about my age, are the two people facing me, while the other two face them.
Wren grins, and nudges the girl, who glances up at me with some surprise.
Within seconds, though, she smiles and says something to Wren, nudging him back the same way he had her.
“I know I said I brought you here for your pity party, Jed,” Wren begins, when I’m close enough to hear. “But I really hope you’re okay with me inviting someone else to join us.”
Jed. I should’ve realized the tousled blond hair facing away from me was his. But I’d been too focused on being nervous and counting my heartbeats to make sure I’m not about to stroke out.
“Who…” Jed trails off when he turns to look at me, and for the first time in the week I’ve known him, he looks absolutely lost for words.
It does nothing for my nerves, and I can feel my fingers twisting in my skirt as the waitress says something and walks away.
“Saylor,” he murmurs finally, still with that unreadable gaze.
“Hi.” I don’t know what else to say. My heart pounds in my throat as I stare down at him, unsure he even wants me here. Glancing at Wren for help, I see that he’s beaming, and his eyes flick between us. “I don’t…if you would rather that I leave—”
“No.” Jed is quick to cut me off before I can finish.
He surges to his feet, ending up right in front of me without much space between us.
“No, I…” It’s like he can’t believe I’m here.
Which I’m sure of in the next moment when he reaches out to brush his fingers along my arm as if he needs reassurance I’m not a hallucination.
“You came,” he murmurs, his eyes never leaving mine.
“Wren invited me,” I reply, unable to look away from him.
All of the boredom and emptiness from the last few days just snaps into pieces, and there’s no doubt in my mind that I’m just as attracted to him as he is to me.
No matter how crazy that is. “I thought maybe you wouldn’t want to see me anymore.
” Behind him, I see Cass ease himself out of the booth, only for Wren and the blonde girl to bring his glass and utensils over to their side before making room for him on their bench.
“Why?” Jed’s brows knit together in confusion. “Why would I ever not?”
“Because I left.” The answer seems obvious to me, and I don’t step away when he touches my arm once more. “Because I didn’t stay.”
“Saylor…you needed to go home.” He smiles wryly, in spite of himself. “Of course you were going to leave.”
He makes it sound so…obvious. Like I hadn’t been running away from him at all, and instead had made a move we’d both agreed on in advance. I can’t help the stupid grin that crosses my face when I think about it that way, and some part of me unfurls, letting the rest of me relax.
“You could sit down. Both of you,” Wren remarks, gesturing theatrically to the booth as if neither of us know it’s there. “Then you could order a drink, we could all order food, and you know. This could be something other than the world’s saddest pity party.”
Jed’s eyes flick back to his friends, and I see him register Cass on the other side of the table with a slight narrowing of his gaze before he steps away from me and reaches out a hand to me. “Inside or outside?” he asks, though from his movements, I have to wonder if he’d prefer the outside.
Which, in all honesty, is fine with me. I sit down and scoot to the far inside of the booth, my elbow against the wall.
I didn’t need to go so far, though. Not when there’s room for two more of us on the bench.
Gingerly, Jed sits down as well, giving me glances every few seconds as if he can’t believe I’m here.
“Saylor showed up at my work today,” Wren hums absently, taking a drink from his glass. “She stalked me. Her words, not mine. She stood on the other side of my office and stared at Cass like she was going to shank him. It was something.”
“I didn’t mean to,” I sigh, burying my face in my hands as I lean my elbows on the table. “And it wasn’t that bad. Right?”
“Oh, it was something,” Wren assures me wickedly, leaning back and pressing his shoulder against the blonde girl’s.
When she sees me look her way, she grins. “I’m Hazel. He’s kind of an ass. Do you want me to punch him for you?” she asks sweetly, her eyes dancing.