Page 110 of Dangerous Men

This is part of the reason I’ve been avoiding them. Why I haven’t bothered to reach out to them much or tried to stay in touch.

As I shower and get dressed, I wonder if it’s possible to fake something serious enough that Katie would let me off the hook and insist I stay home. I could call up right now and say I’ve come down with a serious case of something infectious and awful, forcing me to stay locked in my apartment indefinitely. Something stomach-related and disgusting.

Would she believe it?

I know without giving it serious consideration that it’s a lost cause. I have to face my demons sometime, and today those demons will be living in an affluent suburb and dressed in a novelty food-themed apron. How fun.

And so, at twenty past twelve, I slap a smile on my face, straighten my back, and push open the gate to Katie’s backyard, two massive boxes of Jade’s best pastries in my arms, ready to grit my teeth and get through this.

But the backyard is empty.

I look around, confused, a sinking feeling forming in my stomach. Where are the long plastic picnic tables they always set out, one for food and one for seating? Where are all the other guests?

Where is the barbecue?

I hesitate, considering turning around and just leaving, when the sliding glass door opens, and Katie pokes her head out of the house.

“In here, Sydney,” she says, waving me over.

Something is wrong here. I can just feel it, my intuition sending an uncomfortable prickle down the back of my neck and over my spine.

But I swallow my apprehension, telling myself it’s all in my head, as I follow Katie inside.

Right into my nightmare.

The boxes of pastries I’m carrying almost slip from my arms before Katie can take them, as I stare in horror around their living room. Atwhois in their living room.

There’s Katie’s husband, Lance, looking annoyed and uncomfortable, seated on the couch with Sarah. And next to them…

Is Chase.

“Hi, babe,” Chase greets me, smiling. There’s a white medical strip over his broken nose, and a dark purple bruise under both eyes.

My stomach sinks.

“What is this?” I ask, voice sharp. “Katie… what’s going on?”

“Okay, don’t get hysterical,” Katie says, setting the boxes down and holding her hands out in a placating gesture. “Think of this like…” She waves her hands in the air, searching for the right word. “An intervention.”

My miscellaneous friends nod in agreement from around the room.

I think I might throw up.

“Why would I need an intervention?” I ask. I’m trying to keep my voice down, trying to stay calm, but I can hear theraw anger in my words. I feel a deep rage brewing inside of me.

My relaxation mantras aren’t going to fix this.

Hell, all the mantras in the world wouldn’t do the trick right now.

“We’re worried, that’s all,” Sarah says, sitting forward to rest her elbows on her legs. She skipped a few trips to her hair stylist, I notice. Her roots are starting to show, a dull brown contrast to her usual golden blonde. “Chase came to us the other day to talk about you, about how you’re doing, and some of the things he told us… well, they have us worried about you.”

I glare at Chase, my hands tightening into fists at my side.

“And what did Chase tell you?” I grind out with a scowl, the perfectly manicured mask I’ve cultivated over years finally slipping. We’ve never fought in public before. I’ve never been anything but the perfect, quiet girlfriend in front of these people.

They have no idea what I can really be like when I need to be.

“The truth. Like how you’re going to lose the bookstore,” Chase says, with a shrug. Like it’s no big deal. Like the end of my business and everything I’ve worked for is just casual fodder for the gossip mill.