Whose Bed Have Your Claws Been Under: Chapter 4

Istarted to rise to leave Paige to talk with her parents without me hanging on every word, but she latched onto my wrist and held me in my chair.

She was tiny compared to me. If I wanted to leave, I’d do so, and she could just deal.

But I remained where I was.

“I told you, remember?” Paige said into the phone. “I’m at my old friend, Monica’s, wedding. We reconnected on Facebook. I’m putting you on speakerphone, okay?” She switched the call, though I had no idea why. I’d liked her parents well enough, but I didn’t feel the need to chat with them today.

“I don’t believe you mentioned a wedding this weekend,” her mom, Francine, said. Paige’s dad, Franklin, murmured agreement in the background.

“Yes, Monica and Trevor, though you don’t know him,” Paige said. “You must remember Monica, though. We were good friends in high school. We played on the same field hockey team.”

I could almost taste Francine’s shock in the air. “Monica . . . lives where?”

“Oh, she never left Petrified Woods.”

“Please tell me you’re not back in that wretched town,” Francine shrieked so loudly, Grannie Vi turned and shook her cane our way.

“I’m in Petrified Woods, Mom,” Paige said softly. “And I ran into an old friend. You might remember too.”

The silence through the line was only broken by what sounded like a sob.

“No. Please,” Francine said in a croaky voice.

“Darrow’s sitting right next to me. Funny, while he looks different from what I remember, he’s anything but dead.”

“I knew we should’ve been honest with her,” Franklin grumbled. “But no, you wanted to tell her he died.”

“We had no choice,” Francine said.

“How could you do that to me, Mom? Dad?” Paige’s stark gaze met mine. “He was my friend, and you stole him from me.”

Franklin huffed. Francine started sobbing.

“Don’t be too harsh with us,” Franklin finally said. “We did what we thought was best.”

I slumped in my chair, completely defeated. I’d clung to my anger at Paige, fortifying the wall with scorn when . . . She was telling me the truth.

“I’m going to hang up now,” Paige said, tears on her cheeks. They made her beautiful green eyes glisten. Her auburn hair had been swept up and secured on the back of her head, making her neck look as lovely as a swan’s. I was stunned when I saw her standing at the end of the aisle.

I was equally stunned now.

“Please don’t hang up with anger,” Francine said softly. “Please, Paige. We only did what we thought was right.”

“You made my choice for me!” Paige gouged at her phone, missing at first, then hitting the disconnect button.

I gaped at her, seeing her for what felt like the first time. She . . . hadn’t lied.

“So, do you think I set that up?” she said, rising. “Do you think I somehow got my mom to cry and state she lied about your death, that I made my dad do it as well?” Her hands flew up into the air. “Probably.” She pressed her face close to mine. “Well, you can live with your anger, Darrow. I’m done with it.”

She didn’t wait for me to speak, though I sputtered, struggling to overcome my shock long enough to make my tongue work.

Pivoting on her heel, she fled, darting out of the ballroom.

I was a fool.

Leaping to my feet, I took off after her.