Page 104 of Withered

“Hello, Jake,” Mom greets him.

Jake, who is now standing beside me, greets Mom and gives her an overall look. I roll my eyes and step on his foot. He curses under his breath and follows us into the living room.

Dad walks down the stairs, dressed in a nice suit. He notices us, his eyes shifting from mine to Jake’s. “Nice to see you, Jake.”

“Hello, sir.” Jake takes a step toward Dad and shakes his hand.

“You kids enjoy; we’ll get going,” Dad says as Mom returns to the room carrying her purse. She hooks her hand around Dad’s arm, and they leave.

“Ready?” Jake asks once my parents are out of the door.

“Yeah,” I nod, taking my small clutch from the couch.

I follow him out, lock the door, and walk to his car. Suddenly, he grabs my wrist and turns me, pressing my back against the car. “You have to stop stepping on my foot.”

“Well, then, you should stop staring at my mom,” I say.

“Your mom is-,” He starts, but I cut him off, saying, “Don’t you dare finish that sentence.”

He chuckles and starts inching closer. He brushes past my cheek, his breath tickling it, and his lips brush my ear. His deep, woodsy scent invades my senses, and my feet weaken beneath me.

“I see where you get your looks from.” He whispers.

He steps back and looks me in the eyes. His gaze flickers between my eyes and then to my lips. I know what he’s thinking, but it has to wait.

“Is this dress okay?” I ask him. I’m wearing a simple, light blue spring dress with nude heels. Nothing too much.

“You look beautiful,” he whispers, his lips hovering over mine.

“Not so bad yourself, Henderson,” I say in a low voice.

He presses his lips against mine in a sweet kiss that lasts only a few seconds.

“I like it when you wear heels; we’re at the same height.” He chuckles and steps back, then opens the door for me to enter.

The sky has already set, a soft shade of red and orange blending with dark clouds, and the air has a chilled breeze to it. The ride is silent, with no music playing, and the only voices heard are from outside, with cars honking and street banter.

Jake stops at the red sign, and I ask him, “What are you thinking?”

He hasn’t said anything since we got in the car. He’s tightened his hold on the steering wheel multiple times.

“Different ways to kill my father,” he answers, sparing me a look and that smirk.

I let out a chuckle and shook my head. The light turns green, and Jake resumes driving.

“I won’t let you, even if you try,” I tell him.

“Holding onto you, Evans.”

My heart beats a little faster in my chest, inflating like helium balloons at his words.Hold on. Don’t let me go.

Half an hour later, we drive through a big gate and come to a halt in front of the door of a bungalow. This house is slightly larger than mine, but it pales in comparison to Tyler’s.

We exit and go through the pavement until we reach the front door. I stand a foot away from Jake when he rings the doorbell.

The door swings wide to reveal a man in his forties. Jake stiffens quickly, his shoulders straightening, his palms in tight fists, and his knuckles turning white.

The man smiles warmly at Jake, and a beautiful woman who looks to be in her mid-thirties appears by his side. The man wears a button-down shirt and pants, while the woman is wearing a soft pink dress.

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