Page 13 of Bedding Rose
“Rose! Come back! Please. It’s cold. Come on. We don’t have to stay at Daisy’s. You can come to my place or I’ll drive you home. Rose!” Her heels click against the sidewalk, because even for a girls’ night in at Daisy’s, Lily is always done up. That’s just who she is. Wake up and makeup.
She’s also trying to help me, which is more than she did a few weeks ago after the nightmare that shall not be discussed or even thought about ever again.
No, don’t blame her,I remind myself.It’s not her fault. She was drunk. You were drunk …
But even just the most minor reminder about that night throws me off balance. Vertigo hits me and I feel like I’m falling—just like I did the one, solitary Saturday night I tried to go out and not be myself for a minute. Not be the shy good girl who does as she’s told. That backfired royally, quickly jettisoning from free-spirited into haunting.
A flash of a dark room and three men hits me and panic flashes through my system as if they’re still here.
Nope. It’s over. It’s over and you’re fine,I try to tell my screaming nerves. I would be fine, if I could just put it behind me and forget it. If my brother’s idiotic friend would stop bugging me about it.
Except that right now … triggered by that stupid video playing on the screen in Gunnar’s office, the plunge into the darkness feels even worse than it did that night because this fall is accompanied by betrayal, the slice of a huge knife stabbing me right in the back.
What those strangers did to me is nothing … nothing compared to what Angelo’s done withhisstupid video.
Bastard.
I walk faster, hissing as the frigid air presses against my ears, which feel as if someone is holding ice cubes against them, trying to burn the skin away.
But I embrace the cold because the physical sensation is a distraction from the way my stomach keeps tumbling and my mind keeps reliving things I never want to think about again.
“Rosalinda Lee Dalton! You stop right now and tell me what the hell is going on!” Lily shouts.
God, she’s going to wake up the neighbors. I start to jog, the need to get away pulsing through me faster. I can’t deal with Lily right now—she’s a low-key drama queen at the best of times. There’s no way she’d just let me be. No, she’ll insist on talking. The auburn-haired beauty will want me to slice open my insides, hari-kari my secrets.
I won’t.
Not for her. And definitely not for Angelo. Doesn’t matter how many times he’s fucking asked, demanded, called, cornered me—
I grab my phone out of my pocket. Swiping up with a finger that feels colder than a grave, I find my brother’s number. He owes me, so I shoot off a quick text.
Come pick me up at the park by D’s. Hurry. Bring me a coat.
Enrique better be quick. I know he’s not working tonight, and our house isn’t far. My brother’s in his mid-twenties, five years older than me, and should probably be living on his own by now but isn’t.
I don’t know if he and his greasy hair stick around to help Mom with the house because she needs it or if he’s lazy. In fact, I don’t really know much of what’s going on with him, other than the fact he hates her campaign trail events.
Though Quique and I see each other a lot, we don’t really talk. Not about anything beyond who ate the last of the leftover enchiladas or whose night it is to take out the garbage. Whatever the case may be, tonight, I’m glad he’s close enough to pick me up. I’m also glad we don’t talk, so he won’t ask questions. I don’t want to deal with an interrogation.
“I am not dressed for running! Come on, Rosie! I’ll take you to the store and then we can T.P. Gunnar’s place, okay? Just stop!” Her middle-school-style offer of vengeance softens me a little, and my tennies slow—the clack of her heels growing louder as I let her catch up.
I shouldn’t punish or ignore her. She’s done nothing wrong. God, she was just a bystander too. It’s not her fault that whole secret video thing triggered me. I make myself inhale and exhale slowly, trying to get my raging nervous system to calm down.
We carpooled tonight, so Lily feels obligated as well as concerned. I’ll just tell her Quique’s coming for me and then she can turn back and go inside where it’s warm. I scrub at my cheeks, brushing away the tear tracks that feel like they’ve frozen on my face.
Turning on my heel, I face her as she totters forward the last few steps before grabbing me and crushing me into a painful hug. “I’m so sorry about whatever’s going on, but I’m also shamelessly going to use you to warm my nipples because they feel like they’re about to fall off!”
I burst into thick laughter, my throat swollen. “I’ll put that on my resume. Nipple warmer.”
“You should. I hear it’s in high demand.”
I wrap my arms around her waist as my chest vibrates and we both fill the night with slightly manic laughter that is completely at odds with everything else in my life. I shouldn’t be laughing, I really shouldn’t, but God, it feels so good to let go ofsomething. I’ve been keeping things bottled up and fighting the urge to release the tension the best way I know how because I don’t want him invading my spaceagain. I’m so close to cracking, teetering on the edge. But laughter lightens the load, fills my lungs with helium or something, so that I float, light-headed, for just a moment.
Of course, the moment ends and sadness tugs me back to earth, her grip so much stronger than joy’s.
I dig my fingers into Lily’s ribs, crushing her closer as mirth flees.
Concern colors her tone when she softly asks, “Rose, what is it?”
