Taylor

Chapter Twenty-three

It was Friday evening, thirty minutes before it was time for Fynn to arrive. I had tried to plan something totally awesome, but it seemed like I couldn't find anything awesome to do. So, I had opted for cooking dinner for Fynn. Yes. I, the person who never knew the way around a kitchen, was attempting to cook. And how was it turning out?

I stared at the partially burnt, handmade lasagna, and frowned in utter sorrow. It could have been spectacular, except I had gotten distracted trying to do my hair right. I shook my head, blaming Luke for making me dress like this. Thankfully, the lasagna would still be edible after the burnt pieces were cut off; only a little crispy. I stirred the green bean almondine and checked on the dinner rolls. At least those weren't burnt. In fact, they looked perfect. I took them out of the oven and placed them as nicely as I could.

The only experience I had when it came to dating was with women. Did guys like this kind of thing? Was I being corny? I was two candles short of making it awkwardly romantic. I frowned and looked at the nicely arranged plates of cookies and rolls. This was over the top. I messed the cookie arrangement up and knocked over some rolls, which definitely made it look a little less weird. I set them on the table—or rather half-tossed them down—then turned the stovetop on low and waited for Fynn to arrive.

At exactly five o'clock, a knock sounded at the door. A smile etched onto the left side of my face at his punctuality. Before I reached the door, it swung open and a terrified Emily stood at the threshold sobbing, a large red mark across her cheek. She started to come in but was grabbed and jerked backward. Instinct kicked in and I made a move for Brett, but he pulled a knife out and held it to her throat.

"Just hold it right there, er I'll s-slit her throat."

He was drunk.

"Alright, don't do anything idiotic. Just let her go and let's talk like civilized people."

He laughed. "All she's gotta do is come back home with me." A look of desire flashed in his eyes that made my skin crawl with disgust and anger.

"Okay," Emily whimpered. "I will. Please don't h-hurt me." He grabbed her wrist and removed the knife from her neck, but kept it at her back.

He began backing them toward her house when he let out a grunt and let her go. She scrambled away from him and got behind me. Fynn wrestled Brett to the ground, but the force behind the blow that Brett landed on Fynn's side had him letting go and grunting in pain. Brett rolled over on top of Fynn and raised his knife up, jerking it down toward the right side of Fynn's chest, near his shoulder. He twisted his upper body out of the way and I jumped forward, smashing into Brett as hard as I could then punching him in the head. He grunted and fell to the ground.

"Emily, call 911!"

She immediately did as I demanded while I jumped over Brett and kneeled beside Fynn.

"I wanted an exciting date, but not this exciting."

He laughed and instantly seemed to relax. "How bad is it?"

"Just a flesh wound, you'll be fine."

He grinned and sat up. "This is probably the best kind of date a guy could ask for."

"Date?" Emily's voice came from behind me.

It had me cringing inwardly. I hadn't really wanted everyone knowing about my date with Fynn. But, it was too late for that now. I stood up and turned around.

"Yeah, I, uh," I scratched my head awkwardly. "I asked him out at the party."

A hint of disappointment appeared in her eyes, but it was fleeting. She grinned and clapped her hands together. "That's so cute."