Page 73 of The Blue Rose
TWENTY-FIVE
SERENA
“It can’t be real,” I whisper to myself, gripping the steering wheel and speeding back home. It doesn’t make sense.How can Jessica be dead? I was the one to end her life?She’s my best friend. The only person who was ever truly nice to me. I would know if she was no longer around.
But itisreal. I saw that glimpse of a painful memory when I was at Aster’s. I was standing over her body, bloody and breathless. Then my dad, of all people, was helping me. I think.
After Aster revealed who he was, I was shocked. Scared. Then pissed. Yet… something inside me accepted it. The honking from the person behind me has me shaking my head, and pressing my foot on the accelerator.How long has the light been green?I’ve been obsessed with the Morbid Monet for so long, and to learn I was falling for the man himself, made it easier to accept. Who in their right mind would be okay with their boyfriend being a serial killer who intended to make you their victim? This isn’tBeauty and The Beast, I’m not fucking Belle with Stockholm syndrome. Granted… Aster never kidnapped me, he only tricked me into loving him.
Did he really though? Trick me?He said he may have been lying, but he never pretended. That has to count for something.Right?I roll the windows down, I cover my mouth, feeling the nausea climb up my throat. Taking a deep breath, I push it back down, letting the cool night breeze hit my face and whip my hair around.
I need answers. That’s why I snuck out. I need to drive to my dad’s. Calling him will get me nowhere. He can’t lie when I’m in his face.
My phone rings throughout the car, Aster's name lighting up the screen. Decline. I’m not ready to talk to him. Not until I have answers.I’ll send him a text when I get home so he isn’t worried.I switch on the radio and “Bad Feeling” by Jagwar Twin booms through the speakers. I turn it all the way up, drowning out the thoughts swarming in my head.
Rushing inside, I throw a bunch of clothes and my bathroom supplies in a bag. I have no idea how long I’ll be gone, so I would rather over pack then underpack. I zip up the bag, grabbing my phone charger before sending Aster a text, not even bothering to read the ones he already sent me. I’m on a mission, and no one, not even a sexy as literal sin serial killer, can distract me.
Serena
I’m okay, I’m going to get the answers I need. We will talk when I get back
The drivefrom Salem to New Hampshire only took me two hours, since I had to stop for gas.
The sun is starting to peek over the horizon. The blended colors of orange and red are helping calm my frazzled nerves.I’ve never been to dad’s new place, but he sent me his address to keep in my contacts. At first, I was pissed he assumed I’d want it, now I’m thankful he’s self-centered enough to believe I’d want to see him again. This is going to be a surprise visit. I don’t expect him, or his bride to be, to be up, but this is too important to wait.
I park behind one of the four vehicles in their driveway.What two people own that many vehicles?One for each person I understand, but four? That’s a little ridiculous, but hey, the rich will spend when they want. Anything to one up their neighbor.
I was never flashy with my parents' money, they had a lot of it, giving me everything I could ever dream of, but I was happy with the simple things in life. Just like my mom, she didn’t care about money either.
When I first started painting and got into my love for art, my mom bought me everything I needed to create. I wouldn’t accept their money though, that’s why my mom and I went to the flea market to sell my art. It gave me a sense of responsibility, confidence, being able to support myself. That’s why, after Mom died, I was grateful I already had money saved up to move and create a life for myself. It took me longer to leave because I was consumed by my grief, but I needed to escape when dad moved to New Hampshire right away after her death. I was happy I found a place in Salem, where I was born and raised, able to stay close to my mom despite her passing.
Salem always felt like home, everything about it. From the tourists who come around October to celebrate Halloween to the cold winter months huddled by a fireplace reading a book. I could never leave, this is my home.
I throw a hoodie on before I exit the car and walk up the long steps to stand in front of their door bracing myself.
This is it. I’m going to get the answers I need.I don’t know what happened, no matter how hard I try to remember, it justcomes up blank. Like static when the tv goes out. A grating, buzzing noise. That’s all I’m getting.
I knock on the front door and wait a couple minutes with no answer. My foot taps, while my hands stay placed in the pocket of my hoodie, impatience running through me.They’re definitely still asleep, but I need them to wake up, I bang on the door, uncaring what their neighbors might think. I hear my dad running down the stairs shouting he’s coming in an angry tone.
He swings open the door, ready to tear my head off, when he freezes in the doorway “What the fu- Serena?” His face morphs from anger to shock. “What are you doing here? And why are you here so early? Is everything okay?”
I just stand there, silent. Staring at him. I know he wasn’t expecting to see me, especially since I’ve been ignoring him, but the urgency of the situation is more important than their sleep.
His hair disheveled, in a robe barely tied around his waist, with gray house slippers on, his eyes soften, and he places his hand on my shoulder. “Hey, Serena, what’s wrong?”
“What happened to Jessica?” I blurt out.
His eyes bulge and, before he can answer, a woman with red hair tied in a bun comes racing down the stairs, tying her robe. My nails dig into my palms to lessen the anger I feel at seeingher.“Honey what’s wrong? Who’s this?”
He looks back at her, then to me. ”It’s Serena.”
“Oh.” Her eyes widen, and she rushes down the stairs, motioning for me to come inside. “Come on in dear, it’s chilly outside.” She smacks my dad in the chest, rolling her eyes with a huff. “Why haven’t you invited her in? Poor thing looks like she’s freezing.”
He looks at his fiancé, and his eyes soften. “She wants to know what happened to Jesssica.”
Her brows crease. “Jessica?” she asks.
“TheJessica,” he says.
