Page 25 of Cuts Like An Angel: Part 3

Chapter Twelve

Rosie

She’s not the devil.

She’s not the devil.

She is not the devil.

Rosie stopped five feet short of Maria’s door, holding her breath. Maria was probably sleeping. She should wait.

She turned and headed back to the kitchen with the tray of perfectly made tea, double checked three times, then paused in her tracks.

This wouldn’t, couldn’t intimidate her. She would not let it.

Rosie turned around with the tray of tea and headed back to the room. Pausing outside, she listened for signals that the woman was awake. The television blared just the way Maria liked it. They needed to get her a hearing aid before they all went deaf.

Rosie balanced the tray on one hand and banged out three knocks.

“What?” The bark on the other side said she was awake and ready for murder.

“Mu … Ma … Maria?”

Ms-ms-ms- not Mom, or she’d get another cussing out, or food thrown over her. This woman was unreal in so many ways, but Rosie wouldn’t be put off by her games. And that’s all this was—a game, a ruse. Rosie would beat her at it. It was nothing but a ploy to break her and Rosie could handle it knowing that.

“I have your afternoon tea,” Rosie sang out sweetly. William was out at the auto shop. He needed something for his bike. He had said what it was, but lord, she couldn’t remember it. “I have biscuits too.” She was learning that kindness was the old bat’s kryptonite.

“I don’t want your ruddy tea, or your biscuits. What do American’s know about biscuits?”

Rosie jumped when something hit the door.

“I told you. I don’t take tea from American sluts. Only my William, you fat ugly bitch. Are you that stupid?”

Rosie ground her jaw and held the tray in one hand, using the other to open the door. “Now, come on Maria, don’t be fussy,” Rosie cooed, kicking the door all the way open and hurrying in to get the deed over with. She approached the bed with purpose, keeping her eyes on Maria in case she tried to throw something again. Rosie still had a knot in the back of her head from the last time she’d thrown a book at her as she was leaving. She’d not told William. It was the first time Rosie’s control had shattered and the woman had cackled and cackled like a witch over it. “You should see your stupid face,” she’d howled over and over while Rosie stared in shock while holding herself back from retaliating. She’d not hit her, but she’d wanted to do something—tie her to the fucking bed maybe.

“Don’t forget what William said about restraints.” Though he hadn’t known about the book, William had had his own share of items launched his way.

Maria shot out a laugh. “Pussy talk. He doesn’t have the balls.”

Rosie set the tray on the table beside the bed, making sure to remain as far back as she could.

“Youuuuuuuu cunt,” Maria said. “You’ll get yours. You’ll see. Youuuuuu’ll seeeeeeee,” she sang out like she had a secret plan up her sleeve.

“I’ll see that you’re taken care of,” Rosie said, not faltering at the woman’s words or the way she looked at her. She made her way to the curtains.

“Aren’t you going to give it to me? Such a rude American whore. No wonder William fucks his therapist. Do you know, that’s how he lost his last one?”

“Maria …”

“What, you don’t believe me? Think I made it up? Ask him if you think I’m lying. Ask him about Georgia Wilkinson. Now, give me my tea.”

Rosie swallowed down her shock and pushed away the bit her mind wanted to latch onto. So, William had a past. So did she. It wasn’t a big deal. “You’re capable of reaching it yourself,” Rosie said, turning her back on the vile woman and opening the curtains. “Isn’t it a beautiful day?” She didn’t miss Maria’s cringe. Like an evil vampire.

“I’m going to tell William what you did.”

Rosie busied herself about the room checking things that needed to be done, putting things back in place. She stopped at a puddle of something on the floor near the window.

“A little gift for you,” Maria said, giving off wheezing cackles. “Now, clean it.”

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