“My guitar skills are pretty sucky,” I confessed.
“I know. You’d be the singer.”
“Me?” I exclaimed. Dex was the one with the voice. “I can’t sing.”
“I bet you can.”
“Well I guess I can do a wicked Chris Cornell impression,” I conceded.
“Oh really? Let’s hear it.”
I shook my head. “Maybe one day, if you’re lucky.”
“Tease,” he said.
I ignored that. “So if I’m the singer, what are you?”
“Drummer.”
“Let me guess…you can play the drums too.”
“I can play everything, kiddo,” he stated. Somehow it didn’t come across as boasting when it came out of his mouth. It was just fact and I believed it. “Actually, I always wanted to be a drummer. Played in high school. I mean, I tried to. A friend of mine had a set so I learned on that. Of course we had no money after my dad left, so having my own set was out of the question. But yeah, that was my goal. It just never worked out that way. Even when I joined Sing Sin I tried it out but…something about my rhythm being off. This was before mathcore got huge, mind you.”
“I don’t see mathcore drumming and a lounge act band really melding together.”
“See, that’s where people go wrong with their thinking. If there are things you don’t think will mesh, you should at least try to see if they do. You might end up with something…life-altering.”
“Or something you regret,” I said, thinking of Jenn.
“True,” he said with a sigh. I guess he knew what I was hinting at because he motioned for my phone again. I handed it to him and he dialed her number. Once again, it rang and rang and went straight to voicemail. He left another message, this one more demanding and explained our situation in full.
It was strange that she wasn’t picking up, but I didn’t know her habits and didn’t want to say anything about them.
“Looks like we’re just going to have to wait this one out,” he said, putting the phone down between his legs.
“You could try calling Dean…or 911?”
“I’d rather keep the attention as minimal as possible,” he said.
Hmmpf. He and his stupid pride again. He looked at me and raised his arm hopefully. “Want to try to sleep?”
“Here? Now?” I asked. Like hell I’d fall asleep with ghosts, goblins and G.J. flouncing around upstairs.
He shrugged and his arm started to lower. But I couldn’t pass that up. I moved in as close as I could and placed his arm around my shoulder and snuggled in close. I breathed in the faint smell of cigarettes, minty gum and aftershave, a combination that was all Dex and as equally alluring. I placed my hand on his chest, feeling his heart beat beneath his jacket. The rhythm soothed me and despite the odds, I quickly fell asleep.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
I awoke with a start. A giant, blinding flash of light ripped beneath my eyelids and prompted me awake.
I sat up quickly, still in Dex’s arms. The sedan’s headlights from outside the basement windows were on and flooding the room.
“Oh fuck,” Dex murmured, flinching awake and leaning forward, still keeping his arm around me. We watched as the Spook Factory’s car backed out of the parking spot and roared away into the night, leaving us in the dark, dank basement once again.
“Guess they got what they wanted,” I said groggily. “What time is it?”
Dex picked up the phone. It was 1 p.m. My phone had died, thankfully, but now the reception was suddenly non-existent.
“I can’t believe it…were you sleeping?” I asked him.
He nodded and a yawn shortly followed. “I guess so. Wow, we must have been out for at least three hours.”
“Jenn didn’t call back.”
He let out a short snort of air through his nose. It reminded me of an impatient horse I used to ride when I was young. “Well, she might have now that the phone’s out of service.”
“Dex…” I started, unsure of what I was going to say and how I was going to say it.
He shook his head. “I don’t want to hear it.”
He took his arm off me and sort of huddled himself against the wall.
I stared at him, unable to let it go. “Don’t want to hear what?”
“I know what you’re going to say.”
“What am I going to say?” I would much rather he said it.
His hand flew up to his head and he tugged a bit at the ends of his hair. His left leg started to shake a bit.
“Dex…” I tried again. “Don’t you think it’s strange that we’ve been sitting here, in the basement of a haunted mental hospital for a few hours. And your girlfriend hasn’t come to get us yet?”
“I don’t want to get into it now.”
I inched back from him and grabbed his wrist, taking his hand away from his hair. I leaned in so he could see my face. He was avoiding my eyes but I could see them just the same. They were panicked, glossy and all over the place.
“This, of all times, is probably the best time to get into it,” I said. “There’s no one here. At least, no one alive.”
He didn’t say anything to that. So I decided to step up to the plate.
“Do you think Jenn is having an affair?” I asked point blank.
He closed his eyes. He didn’t look exactly pained, more that he was searching for which route to take. Let it all come out? Get defensive? Play ignorant? I sat back a bit and patiently waited for the story to come, whatever version it was going to be.
He opened his eyes and they slowly slid over to meet mine. “What makes you say that?”
His voice was blank, unreadable.
“Well…” I looked down at the phone. I picked it up and flipped it over in my hands nervously. “I just think…look, Rebecca, at lunch, told me she had a theory about Jenn and Bradley. And she wouldn’t say what it was but then when we were at the club the other night…”
“Yes?” And now a tiny bit of panic came through his voice. He bit his lip.
“Well. The reason I left is because Bradley showed up and then they went off on their own and…”
I looked back at him. His eyes widened. “And?”
“I don’t know. But they went upstairs; he said he had friends she had to meet or something, and I guess it might be nothing, but when they went upstairs, I saw him slip his arm around her waist and it…looked a bit too…natural. If you know what I mean.”
He kept staring at me wide-eyed. His brows were raised creating a ledge of lines between them and his hairline.
“So the reason you left the club was because Jenn basically ditched you to hang out with Bradley?”
“Pretty much.”
“Perry. Why did you lie to me? Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked this so sincerely, his tone so soft and vulnerable that I started to feel a pinch of guilt at my heart for not being honest about it.
“Because,” I stammered. “She’s your girlfriend. I was afraid…that you’d think I made it up. That you wouldn’t believe me.”
“I always believe you,” he said, sharply with a look that matched. That wasn’t exactly true but I ignored it.
“OK,” I said. “But honestly, what do I know? Maybe this was normal.”
“You were protecting her. Why the hell would you do that?”
I shrugged. I guess I kind of was. “Maybe I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt. Sometimes, she really is quite nice to me and I feel sorry for her in some ways. I know you guys are together and if anything was going to mess that up, I didn’t want it to fall on my shoulders.”
He looked away. I watched him chew on his lip till I was pretty sure he was going to draw blood.
“And I still know nothing,” I added. “I mean, forget I said anything. So she’s friends with Bradley. She was friends with you before…”
I trailed off. He gave me a wry look.
I looked away and sighed. “Oh man...seriously. Ignore me.”
“It’s too late for that. So you think Bradley and Jenn are boning?”
“No,” I lied. “I just…you know what, I’m wrong. Wrong idea. Jenn’s not like that, I’m sorry.”