Page 102 of Always Red (Chasing Red 2)

And then, as if a switch had been flipped, her face transformed into a calm mask.

“You’re nothing but bad luck,” she taunted, sneering at Kara. “Bad luck to the people around you. No wonder your ex-boyfriend is destitute now. You’ve infected him. You’ve ruined him.”

Kara paled. “What do you mean?”

Beatrice-Rose cocked her head, a nasty, self-satisfied smirk on her lips.

Before she could say anything, I walked up to her threateningly.

“One more word,” I warned her quietly. Dangerously. My palm was tingling. “One more word, and you’ll find your face on the floor.”

Beatrice-Rose’s mouth curled with contempt, and we stared at each other for a moment. I could feel the hatred pouring out of her.

I noticed she placed her hand in her pocket. Then she took a step forward.

“Is everything all right here, ladies?”

The malice on Beatrice-Rose’s face suddenly disappeared as she threw the manager and the clerk a polite, gratifying smile, so completely at odds with her smirk just a minute ago. I wasn’t surprised. She’d appeared to be an innocent dove when I met her the first time.

“Oh, just catching up with some friends. I’ll see you at the party, darlings,” she cooed, waving her fingers. “Ciao.”

With my dress packed in a pretty paper bag and thrown in the backseat, I watched as Kara absently started the car. She stared through the windshield, her eyes filled with anxiety.

“Are you all right, Kar?”

She leaned back against the headrest. “What did the bitch mean by that? My ex is destitute? Cameron is fucking loaded.” She took a deep breath, running a hand through her hair. Turned her head to look at me. “What does she know that I don’t?”

“She’s probably just talking bullshit.”

She stared out the windshield again. “Yeah.”

“If you’re really worried, I can ask Caleb.”

Kara was quiet for a moment, lost in her thoughts. “Nah. It’s fine. You’re right. Bitch was probably high. What was she doing there anyway? Not her usual scene.” She curled her lip. “Doesn’t she shop at Bitches-R-Us or something?”

She eased out of the parking lot, tooting her horn at a bunch of teenagers who’d decided to make the road their skateboard park. There was litter around them—McDonald’s wrappers, cigarette butts, empty soda cans.

“Fuck you, lady!” one of them yelled, slapping the side of the car.

Kara rolled her window down, grabbed what was left of her milk shake, and threw it at them.

My jaw dropped. Kara didn’t say anything, just rolled her window back up and stepped on the gas. When we were three blocks away, she glanced at the rearview mirror. I

turned and looked behind us to check if they were following us. Thank God they weren’t.

“I’m having a bad hair day,” she announced, giving me a lopsided smile. “Anyone stupid enough to piss me off when I’m having a bad hair day gets mutilated.” She sniffed, and I wondered if she was going to cry. “Now I’m more pissed off. Fuckers took my milk shake away.”

“You’re lactose intolerant anyway,” I reminded her, hoping she’d get angry instead of sad. “You don’t need it.”

She glared at me. “Just for that, I’m getting another one.”

I hid my smile as she pulled into a Tim Hortons and ordered an Iced Capp with extra whipped cream, glaring at me the whole time.

“Beatrice-Rose is sick, Kar.”

“She’s sick, all right. Sick in the head.”

She couldn’t have been closer to the truth if she tried. So I told her what Caleb had told me last night.

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