Page 61 of Scaredy Cat
A car door closing makes us both look up, and I glance around her to see Shiloh has parked his truck beside her car in my driveway. His eyes on hers, never leaving as his steps turn almost predatory as he walks up the stairs to kiss my cheek. “Good morning,” he greets in his oh-so-charming voice. “Did I interrupt?”
“Nah.” My eyes find Gloria’s, and with Shiloh’s arm around my shoulders, I find myself able to say what I need to. “Gloria was just leaving. She really can’t stay.”
“Oooh. Intimidating.” She shivers. “I didn’t expect your boy here to keep your backbone in his pocket, Scaredy Cat.” Shiloh moves to say something, but she puts her hands up in surrender, business card in her fingers. “Okay, okay, I’m leaving.” Her eyes are bright with humor, and she laughs before sticking the card between us.
On impulse, I take it, just to get her to leave.
“Call me.” She makes a dramatic phone gesture with her hand pressed to her cheek, wiggling her brows as she walks backwards down the path to the driveway. “We’ll work something out.”
I don’t tell her to have a nice day, or anything else, as she gets in her car and drives away. I just step back into the house and lean against the sofa while Shiloh closes and locks the door.
“Who was she?” he asks, more curious than anything now that she’s gone. Arugula trots out of my room, meowing his complaints; within seconds Shiloh is distracted by the cat in hisarms still making every noise in the book at him while kneading against his chest.
“She’s, uh, from Miscreant Manor.Wants me to visit.” I chuck the card into the trash can by the door that I rarely take out, watching it flutter to the bottom.
I feel Shiloh’s gaze even before I look at him, and when I do, I find his eyes steady on mine. “You aren’t going, right?”
Holding his eyes, I finally snort, shaking my head as I do. “Go? Of course not. I’m not stupid.”
But if I’m not stupid, I ask myself a few minutes later when Shiloh goes to my bedroom, announcing he needs a shower, why do I pick the card out of the little trash can and put it in my pocket, rather than burning it or letting it stay in the trash where it belongs?
25
Even though I’mstanding in front of the restaurant that Madison picked, I still don’t understand how things have gotten this far.
He’s not my boyfriend.
Except when he is, I guess. Like when he’s pretending for my mom, or Gloria, or Madison when she popped over unexpectedly.
He’s not my boyfriend.
Except…I think I kind of want him to be, if I’m completely honest with myself. He’s easily answered every question I’ve thrown his way about killing people, without hesitation. Though, it really does just seem to be a job to him, and not something he seeks out.
Though I’m not sure I feel better or worse about that fact.
“Hey.”
As per usual, he makes absolutely no noise as he walks, but it’s a testament to me getting used to him that I don’t levitate off the ground. I glance up at the man standing a few inches taller than me, studying his face.
“You don’t have to do this,” I’m quick to say, sounding like I’m making an apology. “Seriously, Shiloh. I feel like this isprobably a bit outside of a stalker’s job description. You don’t have to humor my friends, or?—”
“I like your friends,” Shiloh cuts in smoothly, casually throwing an arm over my shoulders. It occurs to me that we’re a little matchy matchy, in our dark jeans, boots, and nicer-than-casual jackets that we have on. “Well, I don’t know the dark-haired one. And I guess I’ve technically nevermetthe blonde. But I saw how defensive she got over you at the mall when those two girls were, uh, expressing their opinion.”
“That was you.” It isn’t a question, and I turn to look at him while his grin grows into a mimicry of the Cheshire Cat. “Fuck, Iknewyou were there. You stumbled into them, then followed them back to the bathroom.” Pieces click into place, and their terrified faces flicker in my mind. “What did you do to them, Shiloh?”
Shiloh hums and nuzzles my hair. “Well, I didn’t hurt them. That would’ve been way too obvious. I just taught them what their parents should have when they were kids. Don’t be mean to strangers, because you never know which strangers bite.” He clicks his teeth together audibly near my cheek and my heart flutters. “You aren’t mad.” He doesn’t ask it as a question, and I let out a little huff.
I’mnotmad, and that’s the problem. I should be horrified he did that, and the fact he was stalking me during my daylight hours as well. But I think I feel a little flattered, if I’m being truthful with myself. I think maybe Ilikewhat he’s been doing.
Which is incredibly fucked up,my brain supplies. But I've known that about myself for a while. Shiloh’s existence is just an extra little wake-up call my brain can’t ignore. “I have to go to a haunt after this,” I tell him. “You’re working with your dad tonight, right?” Over the last week of us ‘dating,’ I’ve realized that he helps his dad whenever he can. Which, for some reason, means late nights and bloody footprints on my floor.
Shiloh grumbles and pulls away. “Yeah, though I don’t know why. And it shouldn’t take long,” he promises. “Can we go in now? I’m hungry, and cold. Plus, I think your friends are staring at us.” When I look up, he points at one of the restaurant’s large windows, where both Madison and Brynn are sitting on one side of a table near the glass, their eyes on us.
“Well, that’s embarrassing,” I mumble, feeling heat build in my face. “If you’re sure you want to do this?—”
“I’m sure,” he promises smoothly. “Though you’re meeting my dad next, since I’ll have met everyone except your dad and brother.” His hand slides down my arm until he can tangle his fingers with mine, and he doesn’t let me hesitate as he walks us to the entrance ofIvory Vine.
“We could’ve gone to The Waffle Wagon.” The words are spoken half to myself, but they garner a quick snort from Shiloh as we stride to the hostess stand. The woman there grins brightly at us, her eyes searching Shiloh’s face.
