45. NOAH
Chapter forty-five
The mayor’s house is full with so much forced conversation as community figures mingle in what I was told is supposed to be an evening of appreciation. I'm stuck in the living room, holding a glass of water at the bar I’d leaned against the first time I came here, feeling about as enthusiastic as a fucking sloth at a marathon.
The room itself is still a mishmash of expensive furniture that has seen too many years of social gatherings, except there is a new floral-patterned sofa in shades of purple and green, accompanied by matching armchairs.
Dennis, in his element and fucking smiling, is sitting in one of the chairs, deep in a conversation with someone about infrastructure projects, the topic of their discussion blending in with the other polite small talk and the clinking of silverware. Maybe Dennis will be building the next bridge that I jump off of.
What the hell am I doing here, listening to conversations about tax rates and zoning laws? Is this really what adults do for fun?
I’d rather be in detention with Principal Phillips, who I’m surprised to see here, sporting a geometric tie that has to be from his prom in the 70s. I guess it makes sense since he’s a key figure in the city. What, with teaching us young minds and all. Watching him attempt to navigate the social waters is the only thing entertaining me in this room full of suits and cocktail dresses.
Wendy is in the middle of it all. She must really love the sun or she raided Big Bird’s closet, but either way, her knee-length yellow dress is blinding while she plays the sweet co-hostess.
For me, the real action unfolds in the kitchen, where I spot a phone on the wall while all the unsung heroes whip up a feast that will likely be more impressive than the event itself. All the smells of roasting meats and sautéed vegetables keep wafting through the air.
Fuck it. I’m going to down this water, then when Dennis isn’t looking, sneak in there, use the phone, and hide out with the staff for the rest of the night.
“Hey, Noah!” Big Bird chirps, a fake smile plastered across her face as she approaches me.
I roll my eyes discreetly. Dennis is still nearby and I don’t need a backhand to the skull.
“Isn’t this event so amazing?” she gushes, and her enthusiasm makes me want to crush the glass in my hand.
“Yeah. Awesome. Really fantastic,” I deadpan and take a swig of my water, wishing it was something stronger. Like bleach.
“Daddy even had this famous chef flown in all the way from New York! I heard he has like, three Michelin stars or something.”
Okay??
She’s really going to stand there and act like she didn’t purposely bring me here? I flick my eyes over to Dennis, checking to see if he’s still discussing whatever new building he’s erecting in this town. He’s shaking hands with someone new, rising up from his chair with his back turned toward me. Perfect.
Time to cut through the bullshit.
“You mind telling me what I’m doing here?”
“Oh, Noah, don’t be so serious. It’s a nice dinner party and I thought it would be fun to catch up. I missed you, that’s all.”
Somehow I doubt that.
Her version of “fun” usually involves some form of manipulation or scheme to serve her own personal interests.
Leaning in close, she switches gears and twirls a strand of her hair around her finger. “You know, you’re not nearly as big and scary as people make you out to be.”
I slide a step back. “What are you playing at?”
She flips her hair over one shoulder and waves a limp hand. “Nothing at all, silly. I don’t get why you’re so grump. I only thought it would be nice for you to take a little break and be around more civilized people for a change.”
My eyes narrow at the single ice cube in my cup. “More civilized people?”
“Mhm,” she nods. “Instead of those girls from the wrong side of the pond.”
A slight crack appears in the glass under my fingers. “Wow. How incredibly thoughtful and not at all transparent or petty of you.”
I have half a mind to ask her what exactly is so uncivilized about Roxanne, who’s done a lot more for me than anyone on this side of the pond has, but I bite my tongue.
Mostly, I want to leave.
“Where is Chuck?” My eyes scan the room for the nearest exit to get away from her. Right now, I don’t care if Dennis does slap me upside the head later.
At the mention of her boyfriend’s name, her face drops for a split second. “Chuck? He’s not here tonight,” she dismisses, though her tone seems oddly strained.
Interesting. Whatever her agenda is here tonight, Chuck is apparently not clued in.
I sigh heavily, the breath leaving my lungs like the last gasps of a dying man. This is excruciating and my patience is wearing fucking thin.
“Again,” I press, “is there a reason I’m here right now, enduring this thrilling conversation, instead of, I don’t know, at band practice?”
Wendy straightens, the movement sharp and robotic. I’m pretty sure if you cut her open, there would be batteries and wires instead of organs.
“Band practice? Honestly, I’m trying to give you a chance out of the trenches, and I wanted you to have some fun!” Her sugary smile returns, plastic and artificial as she clasps her hands behind her back. “And maybe make some connections. It might be good for your future. Who knows, one of these girls could even be your future wife.”
I bark out a dry laugh that sounds more like a dog’s cough. “Since when do you care about my future? Pretty sure practice is more beneficial for my future than being here right now.”
Wendy, her fingers as perfectly manicured as the lies she’s good at giving, presses her hand against her heart. “Noah!” she cries. “Of course I care. I’ve always cared about you.”
I hold up a hand, stopping her horseshit before she can really get going. “Yeah, no. The act’s not working anymore.” I lean in closer, lowering my voice. “Tell me the real reason you brought me here. I want the truth. No sugar coating, no bullshit.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” This girl is definitely starting to lose her poise, but she’s too damn quick to snatch it back up from the ground. “I don’t see any harm with making sure you get out there and talk to some girls. Everyone does it.”
Anger curls my fingers tighter around the cup. “Does this have something to do with Roxanne?”
The mention of Roxanne’s name has Wendy’s left eye doing the tiniest of twitches. A glitch in her otherwise perfect programming.
“What, her?” She frowns in disgust. “Whatever do you mean?”
“I think you know exactly what I mean.” The heat in my heart is starting to grow on my face.
Wendy takes a step towards me. “Why don’t you tell me what you mean?”
“Why don’t you tell me what you think I mean?” I throw back, taking a step away from her.
Her eyes flash before that damn smile snaps right back in place. “How about you tell me why you’re so angry?” she purrs, smoothing down her dress like she’s trying to iron out the wrinkles in her plan. “It sounds like Roxanne is really on your mind.”
“We both know that’s not why I’m angry. Why don’t you go ahead and tell me what your issue is with her, and what it has to do with me.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” she insists.
“Okay, let me clarify,” I growl, barely keeping my cool. “You asked me to be here to distract me, so I would… what? Stop spending time with Roxanne? Is that your grand fucking plan?”
“Maybe you should spend some time not with her, but with these lovely ladies here.” She looks at the other girls in the room and then back to me.
Jesus. Does she ever stop?
I roll my eyes with a hard sigh. “What you’re doing is not going to work.”
“What am I doing? I only wanted to do something nice for you, but you’re spoiling it.”
“You can’t control her,” I spit, not sure if it’s true but the flash in her eyes tells me it is. “So you’re trying to control me instead.”
Wendy scoffs, the pearls around her neck catching in the light when she crosses her arms. “I’m not trying to control anyone. I’m only making a few suggestions.”
“I don’t need you to make me suggestions or try and influence my life. I really don’t see what you have against Roxanne,” I whisper tightly, trying to reign in the anger because I can feel the threat of Dennis at my back. “Unless you’re jealous of something. Is that it?”
Finally, it seems I’ve managed to piss Wendy off enough for her to drop the innocent act. She looks genuinely taken aback as if I slapped her with one of the parsley bushes I saw in the kitchen.
She sputters, “W—what, why would you think that I’m jealous of her?”
“I think we’ve found the heart of the matter,” I muse, feeling the smirk stretch my lips. “I don’t see any other reason why you would try so hard to drive me away from her.”
“I’m not jealous of that cheap girl.”
“Maybe you’re jealous that Roxanne has something you don’t?”
“I’m not jealous of her, Noah!” Wendy insists, and the only way she seems to be able to convey the depth of her hatred is by stamping her foot down.
“Then why do you care so much?”
“I don’t!”
“Yes you do, otherwise why else would I be here?” I hold my arm out wide, calling attention to the party happening around us.
She opens and closes her mouth, fed up with me. Just as I’m about to grab her by the shoulders and shake the damn truth out of her, finally, Mt. Wendy erupts.
“Because—I—I can’t STAND that little drummer girl you hang around! I think it’s ridiculous that someone like you would even give someone that cheap and tacky the time of day!”
Her outburst sends a hush through the room, made obvious by the sudden sound of glass clinking as multiple heads turn our way. All eyes are on me and tension is in the air as Wendy pastes on a smile and giggles, “Whoopsie!” with a finger wave.
I don’t move a fucking muscle, scanning around to see if Dennis caught that, and hoping this drama won’t be added on my tab. Luck seems to be on my side—no sign of him in that chair.
“Go on then,” I prompt for hopefully the last fucking time, and turn to meet her rounded stare. “I’m all ears.”
Without another word, she grabs me, her grip firm but slightly maniacal. I grit my teeth, so damn tired of everyone forcing me into things tonight, but I let her pull me out the back glass doors and down stone steps, near a garden path. The smile slides right off her face now that appearances no longer matter.
In the quiet courtyard, surrounded by giant shrubs and a single tiny fountain in the center, Wendy drops my arm.
“Here, now we can talk,” she huffs, kicking off her painful looking shoes in the grass.
“Yeah, talk .”
She fidgets with her blonde hair, teasing it higher as she glances around the garden. Even in the darkness I can see a slight sheen of sweat on her forehead despite the January chill. It seems the effort to keep up with being the perfect daughter is taking its toll.
“I have this gut feeling about you two getting together,” she says, wrapping her arms around herself. “This isn’t about me, I swear. She seems... off. Trust me, ‘kay?”
“Like what? She’s going to steal my heart? Run away and marry me someday?” Although, not the worst idea. “And for fuck’s sake, why do you think you can tell me what to do? Or that you can pick who I’m with?”
“Yeah, right, the only thing she’ll ever steal is your wallet.” Wendy purses her glossy lips. “I don’t like the thought of you being with someone so twisted as her.”
I bristle. “Twisted?”
“She’s all dark and gloomy and everything. She’s not the kind of girl men actually want.”
“Careful,” I warn, my voice dropping low.
She looks down, brushing her feet across the frosty grass. “I don’t think she’s well, okay? Something about her feels wrong.”
“There is a world that exists outside of what you think is well. You don’t know her like I do.” And thank god for that.
“She’s a bad influence, that’s all I’m saying!” Wendy bursts out, then glances around before adding in a quiet whisper, “And bitchy.”
I blink long and slow. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. She acts all high and mighty, like she’s got you on a leash and wants me to know it.” She meets my eyes. “And she was so showy at the Halloween party, draping herself all over you right in front of me. Real classy.”
I grind my jaw, remembering that night. Yeah, we did strategically make out to piss off Wendy. I enjoyed every damn second of it.
And the fact that she can do that is why I like her.
“Plus, she was nasty when we ran into each other dress shopping,” Wendy whines. “Flat out called me a spoiled rich bitch who mooches off Daddy.”
I snort at that. That sounds like my Roxanne alright.
The corner of my mouth lifts in a small smile. “Is she right?”
Wendy’s hair whips past her shoulder as she glares at me, no doubt wondering what my problem is that I’d side with Roxanne. I thought she might stamp her foot down again, instead, she shifts her stance and her chest falls with a heavy breath as she turns toward the hedges.
“I don’t ‘mooch’ off of Daddy, thank you very much. I let him spoil me, that’s all.”
“What does any of this”—I wave my hand vaguely between us—“have to do with me being dragged here tonight against my will?”
Wendy shrugs, looking amused. “I wanted to piss her off a bit. Get under that oh-so-perfect skin of hers.” She gestures back towards the party inside, as if Roxanne’s in there somewhere, turning red with jealousy. “And you did mention when your band practices are, so...”
When the hell did I say that? And then it hits me.
“When and where do you all practice anyway?”
Then I fucking told her like an idiot.
I stare at her, the heat in my cheeks coming back. “You think that’s funny don’t you?”
“I thought it was pretty clever.”
I cross my arms and tuck my hands underneath my pits, running my tongue against the inside of my cheek. Tilting my head up to the sky, I exhale hard. That headache from earlier is coming on again from all this high school drama bullshit. I’m getting way too old for this.
“You may have gotten me here under false pretenses, but don’t think for one second you can manipulate me again.” My eyes flick down to see her flinch back slightly, not used to seeing this side of me. The side that’s done playing games. “Unless you want me to have a little chat with Chuck about what happened between us at the skate park... and behind the food stalls at the Blast.”
Wendy pales under her makeup as she whispers, “Please don’t.”
I shrug, keeping my face impassive even though I’m laughing inside. “Try me.”
As if I’d ever bother telling Chuck anything, but what I will do is be allowed to spend my free time with Roxanne without any interference.
“You’re being a real jerk, you know that?” Wendy sulks, pushing her hair behind her ear.
I quirk an eyebrow.
“Okay, okay!” She holds up her hands in surrender. “I admit I was being a bit... pushy.”
“Now here’s what’s gonna happen,” I state, leaving no room for argument. “You’re going to leave all of us alone and stay out of our lives.” I pause, letting that sink in. “Or Chuck gets the play by play.”
Wendy stands there, quiet as a mouse, as she cups her elbows with her palms and digs her toes into the grass. I wait for her to respond, but she never does and I start to wonder if I broke her.
“Well?” I dig my fingers higher into my armpit. “Do we have a deal?”
“Yes, we have a deal,” she bites out with the same scowl a 5-year-old would.
God, I sigh in fucking relief. Message received.
“I’m sorry by the way…” she trails off, rubbing at her elbows again. “About what happened.”
She glances back down, almost looking remorseful. I have to blink a couple times to make sure I’m not seeing things. Who knows if the water in this place is poisoned.
“Sorry about what, exactly?” I ask, and she sighs, sitting down on top of the two foot brick wall behind her that lines the edge of the gardens.
“In August. Using you to make Chuck look better to my dad and all.”
“You don’t need to explain it,” I say. “Tale as old as time.”
Wendy winces, taking shallow breaths as she meets my eyes. “Yeah, but it was shitty. I never properly apologized for that. I’m really sorry, Noah.” She slouches, starting to pick at the hem of her dress. “Sometimes people do anything to make their dad happy.”
I wasn’t sure what an apology from her now could do, or why she waited until now to make amends. The longer she waited to say anything, the less sympathy I had for her.
I open my mouth to respond, but I still have no idea what to say to that. She was trying to talk to me, like a normal person. I have to respect that.
I guess the queen bee does have a soul after all.
“I appreciate you owning up to it,” I reply. “I think you should be apologizing to Chuck, not me.”
“No, I’m apologizing to you specifically too. What I did was messed up and you didn’t deserve that.” Wendy shakes her head, blonde hair bouncing under the lamp lights. “I just want you to know I wish I handled it differently. Even if this apology doesn’t matter much now.”
“An apology can’t take away what you did, but to know that you understand what it does to someone when you use them like that, to know that you really feel bad about it and are even willing to apologize… Well, that does matter.”
Look at me, being all mature and shit. Roxanne would be proud.
Her eyes drop to examine a rock by her foot. “Yeah okay, whatever, don’t get all sappy on me now,” she mutters.
I blow out a long breath, shoving my frozen hands into my pockets and gazing up at the winter sky. “Just please, for the love of God, stay out of my life and Roxanne’s.”
“Right, of course.”
A heavy silence falls. I scuff my shoe against a patch of frost, exhaling a cloud of vapor into the evening air, waiting for her cue to move inside. As much as I would love to spend the entirety of the night out here, freezing my balls off, I’d really like to not get my ass handed to me later.
“I, um,” Wendy hesitates, and I glance down to her biting her bottom lip. “I think part of me was also kinda jealous too.”
“Of what?”
Wendy’s eyes cut up to mine. “You used to look at me like that. The way you look at Roxanne.”
I stiffen. That rubs me the wrong way. As you know, most of the stuff Wendy says.
“That was a long time ago.”
“I know,” she sighs. “I miss having someone look at me the way you clearly adore Roxanne. Chuck… he’s great, but with my dad disapproving so much, sometimes it’s hard. He’s always interfering.”
The twinkling party lights reflect in her eyes, making them appear glassy with unshed tears. I feel an unwelcomed twinge of pity pierce my lingering resentment towards her. Parental expectations can be miserable and brutal no matter who you are.
“So you just want to be loved.”
Wendy nods, a single tear tracking down her cheek. “Yeah, guess I do.”
Dammit! I don’t want her to cry. It makes me feel like I’ve kicked a baby deer.
I look away from her, hating that I’m feeling bad for her. I think back to everything she did, every manipulative, backstabbing move to throw up my walls again.
Everything she did to try to hurt Roxanne.
Everything she did to me.
But the way she spoke… It was childlike, like a little girl playing dress-up in her mom’s clothes. Like under all the gloss and glam, Wendy is a sad, insecure girl begging for affection the only way she knows how.
And the anger slowly washes away, melting right off of my shoulders.
“Well,” I sigh, my breath pluming, “you should go be loved then.”
“How can you ‘go be loved’? Like go shopping for an outfit that will 'get me love'?”
“I don’t mean love as in attention or popularity.” I bite back a laugh at her naivety. “I’m talking about real love. I’m talking about someone who will treat you kindly, who will want you no matter what.”
I picture Roxanne’s fierce green eyes, her deep dimples that have my heart doing kickflips off my fucking nightstand. Thinking about my fatal angel always has a warmth bloom in my chest that makes my throat constantly bob in a thick swallow. I blink rapidly up at the stars, my heart thumping as my thoughts turn almost hysterical thinking about her.
It’s just Roxanne.
“Someone who makes you question how you were able to live so long without them,” I go on, the words pouring out of me like rain on an average day in this town. “Someone who lights up every dark crevice that plagues your mind. Someone you want to curl up with and kiss senseless forever hoping that as broken as you are, you’re still enough. Someone that when their eyes meet yours it’s a damn love song on repeat in your mind.”
It’s not just Roxanne. Not anymore. It never was.
She’s everything. The sun and the moon and the stars all wrapped up in one feisty, beautiful, mind-blowing package that leaves a salty sting biting behind my eyelids.
“Someone you’d risk it all for. Meet beneath the oak tree no matter the cost.”
That seems to get through to Wendy—her brow softens, her face crumpling. “That sounds... that sounds incredible, actually. I don’t think I’ve ever felt that.”
I sound erratic, and look crazy, but I glance up at the sky over the house anyways, looking out toward the moon that is hovering over the left side of the pond, towards where I know Roxanne is waiting. Towards home.
My Bell. The one who makes my heart sing songs I’d never dreamt before. The one I’d brave a thousand oak trees and lightning strikes for.
“You will,” I tell her. “But getting between me and Roxanne won’t fix that.”
Wendy’s lips form a small, sad smile. “I know that. When you look at her, your whole face lights up. There’s no competing with that.”
She isn’t wrong. When Roxanne enters my field of vision, my body discovers the secret to eternal happiness while riding a roller coaster made of rainbows. Funny how someone so different from me feels so fucking right.
Damn I wish I was at the garage right now. I want my hands on her, her in my arms.
I’m so late and they have to be wondering where I am by now. Even if I sneak out it’ll still be at least a 20 minute walk to the storage units.
“What can I say, Roxanne’s pretty special,” I sigh, feeling the conversation start to wrap itself up in a neat little bow.
“Clearly.” Wendy glances up at the stars wistfully. “You always did have a way of looking at a girl that made her feel like the most important thing in the world for a moment. There really is no greater feeling than being under the stare of Noah Jackson.”
I rub at the back of my neck, unexpectedly touched. “You’ll find someone who looks at you like that all the time, not only a moment.”
“Maybe.”
“Wendy?” A sharp voice I’ve heard before snaps out. We both straighten our backs and turn to see the Mayor standing at the top of the steps, looking none too pleased to find his daughter alone out here with me.
+10 points for Chuck at least.
He notices us both looking on edge and says, “You should get back to the party, dear.”
I dig deep into my pockets as Wendy switches back on the perfect daughter aura.
“Right, of course, Daddy,” she stammers. She picks up her shoes and scurries up the steps to join him, rubbing at her sore feet.
Once they’re both back inside, I wait a few seconds to put some distance between us before following behind. Whenever I step through the glass doors, I only get one quick breath before Dennis is on me, meaty hands grabbing roughly at my sleeve.
“Easy on the threads,” I mumble, thanking God he didn’t hear me.
“Where did you run off to?” he growls at me under his breath.
Without waiting for an answer he hauls me off, my shoes squeaking across the polished floor as he drags me to the restroom down the hall. Dennis is huffing already, fuming as the bathroom door swings shut behind us, sealing my fate.
He has been in a state, really, since he’d told me to get dressed before coming here. Guess I’ll be leaving this party with more than a migraine tonight after all.
“What the hell do you think you’re playing at?” Dennis whirls on me. “First you make that poor girl yelp, disrupting the whole damn party.” He gets right up in my face, breath hot and smokey from whatever cigars he was off puffing. “I knew bringing you here was a mistake! Can’t take you nowhere without you causing a scene!”
I clench my fists but stay silent. Arguing will only make it worse.
“Then I come back from the head and find out you dragged poor Wendy outside alone?” He jabs a thick finger in my chest. “What exactly were you doing out there in the dark with the Mayor’s daughter?”
I swallow hard, bracing for the storm I know is coming. No getting out of this one without taking my lumps.
“We were talking, that’s all,” I say as firmly as I dare. “She wanted to show me the sculptures in the garden.”
“Bullshit!” Dennis roars, my eyes slamming shut to avoid the spit spraying my face. “You think I’m a moron? Sneakin’ off with a girl alone to the gardens at night? I know what goes on.”
He grabs a fistful of my shirt, nearly lifting me off my feet.
“We’ve been over the rules a thousand times. No causing scenes. No talking to girls. You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?” He gives me a shake that rattles my teeth.
What the fuck does he want me to say? Wendy invited me here, and he thought I wouldn’t be talking to her?
“I didn’t do anything,” I hiss, shoving his hands off me. I’ve crossed the line by touching him back, but we’re in public, at the mayor’s house. Is he really going to whip me?
Dennis’s eyes go wide in fury.
“You better watch your tone with me. I’m not in the mood for your sass tonight.” His hand descends as I clench my jaw, steeling myself. “Looks like we gotta have another little chat about respect when we get home.”
I squeeze my eyes shut as purple circles explode across my vision.
Dennis' heavy hand cracks across my face, his wedding ring hitting me right in the corner of the mouth, making my head snap to the side. I stumble back, catching myself against the sink as pain explodes through my jaw.
“Haven’t you had enough?” Dennis advances towards me. “Or do you need another reminder of the rules around here?”
I grimace, touching my throbbing lip as the taste of pennies fills my mouth. I need to shut up and take my licks so this torment can end.
“Why?” I spit, glaring up at the hulking man glaring down at me with a sneer so mean, the reasons to stay quiet told by the angel in my head turned into ash. “So you can keep threatening me while you drive my mom further into alcoholism?”
“You shut your mouth, kid.” His ham-sized fist draws back, wedding ring glinting under the bathroom light.
I brace for the impact, legs tensing and digging my fingers into the sink. If he’s going to beat on me either way, I might as well speak my mind for once.
“Or what? You’ll ship me off to some teen camp? You'll put me in the hospital this time?” I smile, shaking my head with a hint of a laugh. “Go ahead, take your best shot.”
A guttural sound rips from Dennis, promising untold pain. My heart pounds so hard it hurts, but just before his fist can connect, a saving grace in a 70s tie opens the door.
We both freeze and Dennis drops his hand as Principal Phillips stands there, his wide eyes shifting around the scene.
I offer an awkward flat smile as Dennis quickly steps back, clearing his throat and adjusting my rumpled suit jacket. “Ah, Phillips. We were having a little father and son chat. Weren’t we, Noah?” He gives me an unnatural smile that makes my insides turn to water.
“Yes sir,” I mutter, wiping the blood from my split lip with my thumb.
“Well then, we’d better get back to the festivities,” Phillips says, not taking his eyes off of me and holding the door open.
With exhausted feet, I flex out my palms and follow Dennis out into the hallway, Phil trailing cautiously behind us as we walk in tense silence toward the sounds of clinking silverware floating from the dining room.
My eyes stay glued to the floor, too afraid to look around at all the people laughing with drinks in hand as classical music fills the air. Totally oblivious to the man who builds all of their shit beating on his stepson.
We make our way to the dining room, my legs shaky with depleting adrenaline and dread as I walk along an ornately set table that’s as long as the green mile. The room has rich, dark wood-paneled walls, along with a polished hardwood floor covered by an ornate Persian rug in hues of navy, crimson and gold. An enormous crystal chandelier drips from the ceiling, casting a warm glow over the arrangements of white camellias and green holly spilling out of vases along the center of the table.
Fuck the Mayor, but at least he gives Daniel’s mom most of her jobs.
The never ending mahogany table is set with fine china, crystal glassware and more silver utensils than I’ve ever seen. The high-backed dining chairs are upholstered in tufted red velvet, looking almost throne-like. Along one wall is an elaborate credenza displaying an array of dishes and desserts, tended by servers in crisp white jackets.
It's more the cabinet room in the Oval Office than a small town mayor’s dining room.
I let out the breath I’ve been holding as we approach the head table where Mayor Turner sits in his tuxedo, laughing heartily with someone else in the same tux. Mayor Turner’s wife catches my gaze, her white-tipped fingers adjusting her hair as she smiles politely despite the concern in her eyes at my swollen lip.
I carefully pinch my jaw, opening and closing my mouth to try and ease the pulsating ache from Dennis’ fist. I have no idea how I’ll possibly eat when it feels like my teeth have been yanked out at the roots.
I’m seated next to Wendy obviously—the kid’s table sticks together—and as we approach near the head table and take our seats, she gives me a puzzled look at my fat lip but says nothing as I slump into the chair.
I fold my napkin in my lap when the police chief breezes in, dropping his wool coat onto the butler waiting nearby.
“Sorry I’m late, everyone!” he announces. “Had a bit of trouble with my cummerbund.”
A ripple of hearty laughter spreads through the room.
Ha ha .
I smirk darkly to myself. A cummerbund sounds less troublesome than a split lip and a murderous stepfather. Then again, what do I fucking know about the woes of politicians and police chiefs?
“No matter, Rollins,” the Mayor replies. “Everything good down at the station?”
Chief Rollins’ mouth twists as he settles into his seat. “Nothing to worry about. Just a minor disturbance with the Wishmore household. We’ve got it under control.”
At the mention of Roxanne’s last name, my heart shoots up in my throat and then dives back into my stomach at breakneck speed as I fly up from the seat, dropping my folded napkin from my lap, and my fork spills out on the floor. Dennis digs his fingers into my shoulder, rooting me right back into the nightmare I can’t wake up from.
What the hell happened with her while I’ve been stuck here? Is she hurt? In trouble?
Dennis retrieves my fallen fork, placing it right next to my plate with an eerie smile that turns my blood to ice. “Do be more careful, boy,” he whispers under his breath, sliding his grip up to the back of my neck. “We wouldn’t want any more accidents now, would we?”
My jaw throbs. What the hell does that mean?
He turns towards the Mayor, taking his seat right next to me opposite of Wendy. “I do apologize for his interruption. Please, continue.”
The knot in my stomach twists tighter. What happened to Roxanne?