Page 42 of Even in the Dark

Just then, the doors to the restaurant open and the large group walks out—the one with the girls who were staring all through dinner. Most of the people in their group veer off towards the parking lot, but the two girls head off to the side, towards the stone patio extension where Phil and I are standing. I rub my palm against the back of my neck, duck my head, and turn mybody. Try to make myself invisible. I can’t deal with this right now.

“Excuse me! Hey! Excuse me—are you the kidnapped guy from the Volt ads?”

I take a few steps to put more distance between us, my back still to them, fingers rubbing at the tension at the base of my skull.

“Can we take a selfie with you?”

I pivot the other way, keep my head ducked.

“Girls, I’m afraid this isn’t a great time,” Phil says, shifting his body in front of mine.

“Just one selfie?” the taller girl rushes past him to my other side, then she’s right up in my space, leaning so close, her cheek touches my shoulder. My gaze jerks up just as her arm lifts, and she snaps a photo on her pink sticker-bombed phone.

I whip my hand out from behind my neck and snatch it, click on the photo still displayed on the screen and delete it, then hurl the phone across the parking lot. It lands with a loud crunching sound against the gravel a few feet in front of the rest of their group, who’ve almost reached their cars.

“Oh my God!” Selfie Girl shrieks at the same time the other one screams, “What thefuck?”

They both back away. Scream more of the same lines.

Phil stays right next to me though, so I hear him loud and clear when he mutters, “Shit.”

First time I’ve ever heard him swear.

“Nat? Emily? Are you girls alright?” One of the women calls out. She ducks and retrieves the phone. The rest of the group is already rushing towards us, looking seriously pissed.

“You really are crazy!” Selfie girl is screaming at me now. “I’m gonna call the newspaper and tell them what you did and that you’re a psycho, just like that killer!”

Her friend or sister or whatever is running towards the group. “The kidnapped guy just threw Emily’s phone!" she shrieks. "He just grabbed it andthrew it!”

Like anyone here needs the play-by-play.

I start walking in the other direction, but Phil reaches out and grips my elbow. He leans in close, and I can smell the mint on his breath from the chocolate that came with the bill. “Go wait in the car.” He doesn’t sound pissed. He sounds resigned. Exhausted.

I shrug him off and he grips my arm again, more firmly this time. “Dylan… I need you to go wait in the car. Please. I’ll handle this.” His tone is firmer this time, too.

He tugs me toward his Audi, and I let him, even though I’m taller. Definitely stronger.

“Are you the punk who just threw my daughter’s phone?” One of the men in suits calls over, almost caught up to us. Phil steps around to my other side, like he’s putting himself between me and an angry mob or something. Which I guess he kind of is. He quickens his pace, still basically pulling me towards the car. Could be he’s worried I’ll take off.

I might. I’m seriously considering it.

This is such bullshit.

“Hey! I’m talking to you!” Suit Guy yells. He’s right by our car now. The whole group is. “That phone almost hit my wife in the head!”

I can’t help the scoff that escapes my lips; that phone came nowhere near anyone’s head.

The guy sees my reaction and loses it. Goes all pink in the face as he motions to Phil. “Is this smart-ass your kid?”

“I’m sorry,” Phil says. “Just give me a second and we can sort this out.” He unlocks the door. Even more eager to get me out of the line of fire. Funny, since I could take on this shmuck with one hand behind my back.

On second thought, maybe that’s exactly why Phil’s so eager to get me into the car.

The woman who picked up the phone is brushing it off and I catch a quick glimpse of the smashed screen. Kind of satisfying that for all this hassle, at least I broke that rude chick’s phone.

Phil opens the passenger door. Guides me inside, like he’s a cop taking me in. Even does the thing where he puts his hand on my head when he pushes me into the seat. It’s weirdly familiar.

“Don’t leave the car, alright?”

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