Page 37 of The Blue Rose
There it is, this wasn’t his idea, it was this Sharon's. Fuck. That. They can both kick rocks.
“Oh, so you don’t actually care,Sharondoes. Who is she, Dad? Another one of your whores?”
“See, I told you this was a bad idea, she wants nothing to do with me.” He says to someone in the background
A sickly sweet southern voice responds, “She’s your daughter, Thomas, maybe you should tell her the truth. I want her at our wedding. I would like to meet my future daughter-in-law.”
My dads tone is curt and serious, “She can never know the truth.”
My stomach starts to gurgle and I feel like I’m about to be sick.What truth are they talking about?I start to lose my balance, my phone slipping from my hand. The last thing I remember is my dad’s voice screaming my name before everything goes black.
“Serena!”
I feel strong hands gripping me by the shoulders as a voice that makes my heart pound in my chest yells my name.What’s going on?I open my eyes slowly, the light stinging them, so I slam them shut with a groan.My head hurts… Did I hit it?
“Serena!” I hear the voice scream in a panicked tone.
“Dad?” My eyes flutter again.
I feel myself being guided into a sitting position, a hand caressing the back of my head, causing me to flinch.
“No, little lamb, not your dad.”
My eyes flutter open at the realization that the person shouting my name, the same person holding me, is Aster.When did he get here? How did he get inside?
“Aster?” I say weakly
“Yes, little lamb, I’m here. You fell and hit your head. You're okay but there is going to be a nasty bump.”
He wraps his arms around me and I touch the back of my head, wincing.
He grabs my hand and chuckles, “Yeah, that’s the spot, how about we try not to touch it. Do you think you can stand up?”
Nodding weakly, I go to stand up, arm over his shoulder, and legs shaking. Aster’s taller than me by at least a foot so he has tobend down to walk me over to my stool to sit down. I giggle at how awkward he looks.
He slowly lowers me to the stool, still holding my waist just in case I fall.
He brushes the hair out of my face, and I lean into his touch. “Do you want to stay here or go sit somewhere more comfortable?”
“My room, please.”
He lifts me up, this time bridal style. As we’re walking to my room, someone bangs hard on my front door, startling both me and Aster.
We look at each other, the banging continues, more frantic than before, faint yelling floating through the door. “This is the police, open up!”
Aster’s grip on me tightens and I feel his body stiffen, freezing him in place. Something is off, he doesn’t even hear me when I whisper, “Aster, the door.” I pull on his shirt breaking whatever trance he was in and he makes his way to the front door, still carrying me, fingers digging into me with every step closer to the door.
He goes to open the door and the police are startled to find him holding me.
An older cop with a mustache that fills his face, says, “We got a call saying a father was on the phone with his daughter when he heard a thud, then silence. He thought something happened, so we came to check to make sure everything was okay.”
The cops are staring at Aster, intimidated and on guard. The younger cop looks at how protectively Aster is holding me, and Aster is staring daggers at them both. The amount of hatred I feel coming from Aster, surprises me. To break the tension, I tap Aster’s arm and tell him to let me down. I make a show of kissing his cheek to thank him and turn back to the authorities. “I’m fine, I just fell. Luckily, Aster was here to help me.”
Mustache says, “Regardless, we are going to need to write a report. Mind if we come in?”
I nod, motioning for them both to come in, and lead them to my dining room, Aster holding my hand for dear life the whole time.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was scared. Aster isn’t scared of anything though. So why are cops in my home, checking on me, making him come undone?
