“Wow.” The word was soft. Almost reverent.
Our eyes met in the mirror as he crossed the room. Warmth flooded my cheeks. Even though I was completely dressed, I felt the strange urge to cover up.
Jason was clean shaven, and as he drew closer, I could smell the faint trace of expensive aftershave. He had styled his hair so that it was an artfully disheveled contrast to the sharp, crisp lines of his tux. He looked like he had stepped off a movie screen.
The only thing that ruined the picture was the black dagger tattooed on his neck.
“Is everything okay at the church?” I asked.
He nodded.
It had taken Serena a while to change back to her human form, but once she had, it was as though she had fully recovered from what they had done to her at Thornhill—physically, at least. She and Trey had stayed behind at the church. If CutterBrown had sent those men after her, going anywhere near the fund-raiser would be beyond insane.
Eve had balked at the idea of staying with them, but Jason had only been able to get two tickets. As it was, we were one person too many, but I had refused to tell either Jason or Kyle where Amy had hidden the key to her father’s study and neither of them was willing to stay behind while the other went with me.
Besides, I wanted Eve to stay with Serena and Trey. I trusted her to protect them in ways I couldn’t.
The corner of Jason’s mouth lifted in a crooked grin. “Need someone to zip you up?”
I hesitated, then nodded.
Jason stepped closer. His fingers grazed my lower back, raising goose bumps on my skin as he reached for the zipper and slowly pulled it up. “You look gorgeous,” he said.
“It’s the dress.” I shook my head. “Anyone would look good in this.”
The memory of the way Jason’s body had covered mine as we kissed swept through me. I pushed it away, but not before he caught a glimpse of the flashback on my face.
He gave his head a small shake as though trying to clear it. “You know, someday you might actually learn to accept a compliment.” A faint blush crept across his cheeks. “I was wondering . . .” He reached into his pocket and pulled something out. He kept his fist closed, hiding whatever was tucked inside. “I bought this last year. For Amy. Before everything happened.” He opened his hand and a flash of silver tumbled out. A small disc spun at the end of a dainty chain, catching the light as Jason dangled the necklace between his fingers.
I turned and captured the pendant in my palm. It was a small silver compass. North, South, East, and West. A star between them and tiny letters that wound their way along the outer edge. May you always know the way home.
“It’s stupid and sentimental,” said Jason, raking his free hand through his hair, disheveling it even more, “but part of me always felt like she was pulling away—especially this last year. I saw the necklace in a store window and I felt bad about how much we had been fighting and I just, dunno, wanted to try and do something nice for her. I knew it was too little too late, but I still wanted to try.”
He pulled in a deep breath. “I never got the chance to give it to her, and after the funeral, I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of it. I just . . . I thought it would look nice with your dress.”
His hands went to the clasp, a silent question in his eyes. It felt wrong—as wrong as wearing Amy’s bracelet—but looking at the earnest, slightly lost look on Jason’s face, I found myself nodding.
I turned so he could fasten the chain around my neck. The silver felt warm against my skin. Almost hot.
My chest felt suddenly tight. I was standing in Amy’s place. I was wearing the kind of dress she belonged in and a necklace that had been meant for her. I was standing with the boy who should have loved her more than he loved me.
I felt like a thief.
Jason traced the edge of the chain with the barest brush of his fingertips. “I keep thinking about where we’re going tonight, and I keep wondering how many ways you can betray a person. Amy’s gone, but I still keep finding ways to hurt her.”
“You don’t have to come with us.” It was hard to say the words—now that I had accepted that he and Kyle were staying, I couldn’t imagine doing this without them—but I needed Jason to know he had a choice. To know that he always had a choice. “Kyle and I can go. You could head back to the church and wait with the others.”
“No,” he said, voice low and serious. “I can’t.”
He held my gaze in the mirror. Like the ocean during a storm, his eyes pulled me under. “Why?” I asked. “What changed?” It was the question I had wanted to ask him for hours.
“Serena.” He continued to hold my gaze. “Until this afternoon, I didn’t think I would ever see anything as horrible as those videos of them torturing her in the camp. After what happened to her—after what keeps happening to her—she deserves to know who’s responsible. You were right: this is bigger than us. I hate where we’re going and why—I hate everything about this—but it’s necessary.”
He started to lower his hand, but I reached up and held it in place. “I don’t want to lose you over this. I don’t want you to hate me if we go there and find something.”
A small, sad smile crossed his face. “You won’t lose me. As long as you want me around—however you want me around—I’m here. Don’t worry,” he added, catching my flicker of unease and the way I bit my lip. “I know it’s him. It should be him. He’s better than either of us.”
“Jason . . .” My heart twisted. I loved him—just not the same way he loved me. Not the way I loved Kyle. I didn’t feel guilty for the feelings I had for Kyle—it would be like feeling guilty for breathing—but I wished there was some way I could keep those feelings from hurting Jason.
A floorboard creaked behind us.
I released Jason’s hand and turned.
Kyle stood in the doorway, a blank, careful expression on his face that I couldn’t decipher.
Jason stepped to the side, putting plenty of space between us. We hadn’t done anything wrong, but another blush flared across my cheeks. That one, stupid kiss after Thornhill made everything so awkward and complicated.
Kyle stared at the two of us for a handful of heartbeats before stepping over the threshold.
My pulse sped up as I watched him cross the room. Kyle wasn’t as comfortable in a tux as Jason was—he tugged at the collar and the cuffs—but that didn’t change the way the jacket emphasized his broad shoulders or how he moved with an impossible amount of grace.