Chapter 32: Always Red: Chapter 33

“You should have seen her do the walk of shame this morning.”

I narrowed my eyes at the cheery sadism in Kara’s voice. She stood at the counter, stirring a spoon in a fat pitcher of rum and Coke she was mixing…or experimenting with, depending on your point of view.

Lime wedges were scattered on the counter, along with a half-empty bottle of rum and various cans of Coke, three open bags of chips, a bowl of Oreos, a plate of pierogis and sour cream, and french fries that Beth was eyeing with lust.

“I was not doing the walk of shame,” I argued, but I felt the heat searing my cheeks. Lowering my face so Kara wouldn’t see my blush, I walked to the cupboard and grabbed three glasses.

“Yeah?” Beth finally gave up and fished out one french fry, then nibbled on it. “I’ve seen your man, Ver. He’s hot. How’s he in the wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am department?”

“Well, let me just tell you to bleach the hell out of your counters if she and Caleb spend a night at your place,” Kara interjected.

“Kar!”

She winked. “Beth is part of our friendship bubble. She has a right to know.”

I face-palmed. Kara wasn’t even supposed to know about the…counter incident. It had just slipped out that one time.

Beth rolled her shoulders and fanned her face with her hands. “Holy cow.” She shivered. “Wait!” Pitcher in hand, Kara froze just before she poured her concoction into Beth’s cup.

“No alcohol for me,” Beth explained. “I’ve sworn off sugary drinks. I’m on a diet.”

Kara curled one side of her lips. “Bitch, I just saw you eating cookies.”

“Correction: half a cookie. It doesn’t count if it’s only half.”

“And french fries,” I added, more than happy to move on to another topic.

“One french fry. That doesn’t count either.”

Kara’s eyes suddenly gleamed with mischief as she reached for the bowl of cookies.

Beth quickly grasped the bowl. “What are you doing?”

“You said you’re on a diet.”

Beth narrowed her eyes. “Really?”

They stared at each other.

“I hate you,” Beth growled after a moment, plucking one cookie from the bowl before she released it.

As Kara stepped away with the bowl, Beth broke down and fished out another cookie. “Okay. Last one. Take them evil things away now. Take them far, far away.”

Kara threw me an impish grin. “Hey, Ver, I’ve got some cake in the fridge. Want some?”

“You’re such an asshole, Kar.” Beth paused for three seconds. “Is it chocolate?”

“Oh, please. Is there any other flavor worthy of my mouth?”

“I’ll get it,” I offered, taking a sip from my cup before heading to the fridge.

“So, how was the party last night?” Kara asked. “You didn’t have to come home this morning.”

“I wouldn’t have left you last night if—”

Kara waved me away. “I told you I was okay. I’m just really, really grateful nothing happened to my dad and Dylan. If—” Kara’s voice broke.

Beth squeezed Kara’s hand. I set the box of cake on the counter and placed my hand on Kara’s shoulder, offering support.

“I’m fine.” Kara sniffled, pulling away from us. I handed her a tissue, and she carefully wiped the mascara under her eyes. “Ver, you know Dad sends the guys home when it’s not that busy. He and Dylan usually finish up whatever work’s left over. So if they had been at the back bay where the fire started… If they…”

“Stop it, Kar. No one was hurt. Thinking about the what-ifs isn’t going to help you or them, and it’s not going to change anything. They’re fine. That’s all that matters.”

“Ver is right,” Beth agreed.

Kara nodded and took a deep breath. “While Ver here was sleeping off her sexual adventures, I got a call from Dylan after lunch. The kids who set the shop on fire were caught this morning.”

“Right on! Idiots think they can get away.” Beth paused. “Wait, who are they?”

“Remember I told you about those skaters who kept slapping my car when Ver and I were leaving the mall? And I threw my milk shake at them?”

“What the hell. Really?” Beth looked furious. “They set fire to your shop because you threw your milk shake at them?”

“Here’s the kicker: someone paid them to do it.”

“Wait, what?” I snapped. Shocked, I gripped Kara’s arm.

Kara nodded grimly. “According to the officer, all of them said a lady approached them at the mall that day. Paid them five grand to do some damage to the shop when you and I were in the building. They were ordered to do it the next day, which was—ding-ding-ding—the day of Caleb’s birthday party. Are you smart bitches feeling me here?”

I drew in a sharp breath, my hand falling limply from Kara’s arm. A chill raced up my spine, and I shivered. “Beatrice-Rose,” I choked out. “Kar, it was Beatrice-Rose.”

“I’ve no doubt she did it. Problem is, the kids said she was wearing a big hat and dark shades, so they can’t really give a clear description of her. They described her clothes, though, and it didn’t sound like what Beatrice-Rose was wearing that day.”

“She’s cunning. She could have bought new clothes at the mall.”

Beth shook her head. “What in the hell is wrong with this psycho? She needs some honest-to-Jesus bitch-slapping.”

“Get in line, sister,” Kara said. “Ver, you have to be careful.”

I nodded. “I will. You too.”

My mind was whirling with so many things, trying to piece together everything that happened since Beatrice-Rose showed up at Caleb’s flat. If Beatrice-Rose had paid the skaters to set fire to Kara’s shop while we were inside, there was no telling what her limits were. I decided to phone Caleb later to tell him about it.

“Kar, did Cameron drop by last night?” I asked.

A shadow fell over Kara’s eyes before she turned away.

“He heard me tell Damon about the fire,” I added.

I stared at her back, saw her shrug.

“Ooh, somebody’s repressing her feelings,” Beth teased. “Need Dr. Phil, Kar?”

“Shut up, Beth, or I’m stabbing you in your mouth.”

“Sure. With what?”

“With my fucking powers, that’s what. Switch topics now.”

Smirking, Beth pulled the box of cake in front of her, her beautiful mismatched eyes widening in childlike joy as she opened it and sniffed.

“Well, at the party,” I began as I pulled out plates and utensils, “Beatrice-Rose was wearing the same dress that I had on.”

“You gotta be fucking kidding me!” Kara exclaimed.

I shook my head at Kara and set a plate in front of Beth.

“I knew she was up to something when we saw her lurking at the store while we were shopping for your dress,” Kara said.

“Yep. She told Caleb’s mom that I saw her at the store trying the dress on first and that I knew she was going to wear it to the party—”

“And because you’re a big, bad bitch, you wore it too,” Kara finished.

Beth paused from cutting the cake. “That bitch needs to be executed!”

I pursed my lips, debating whether to tell them more. I saw their angry faces—these two beautiful girls who had come to mean so much to me. If someone had told me a year ago that I would be sitting in a cozy kitchen having drinks with my two best friends as they listened to my problems, I would have laughed in their face.

“There’s more,” I added. “Caleb had to take an important business call, so I was by myself for a while. Beatrice-Rose tried to humiliate me in front of people—”

Beth cut a tiny square piece of chocolate cake and laid it carefully on her plate. “You should’ve phoned me. I would’ve brought Theo. Without his leash.”

“Thanks. At first, she was singing praises about having the legs for ballet and—”

“She can use those legs to crawl the hell out of my sight,” Kara interrupted, “because if I see her again, I’m going to make sure she can’t walk anymore.”

“I’ll bring the chainsaw,” Beth added. “We’ll Hannibal Lecter her.” Kara and I stared at Beth, taken aback. “What? Too much? Okay. Sorry.”

I told them the rest over cookies, cake, chips, and the rum and Coke that Kara kept pouring. My story was met with indignant growls from Kara and threats of torture from Beth.

Kara reached for her drink. “So, did you make good use of Caleb’s mama’s counter last night?” I chucked the roll of paper towels at her. “Ow.”

“Actually,” I started, blushing again, “let’s move to the living room. I have more to tell you.”

We settled in Kara’s living room, and I relayed what happened after Caleb saw me with Damon in the gazebo. I gave them a censored version of what happened in Caleb’s cabin, and there were earsplitting squeals from both of them.

I found that it was getting easier to share things about myself, things I never would have shared with anyone before I met them. This scene might have been a common occurrence to a lot of girls, but not to me. I cherished these moments when I could confide in them and know they wouldn’t judge or ridicule me.

“I’m surprised it didn’t trigger your…” Kara trailed off, her eyes widening in alarm as she slapped her mouth with her hands. “Sorry! I know you don’t like talking about your dad.”

“It’s okay,” I said. There was a hollow feeling in my stomach every time I tried to talk about my dad. It was there now as I worried my lip and thought of how to answer Kara’s question.

“I guess if you really think about it, since I was…abused as a child, Caleb’s behavior should have been a trigger for me,” I said. I paused for a moment, gathering my thoughts. “If anything, I was really mad that he would manhandle me like that. But I…knew he wouldn’t hurt me.”

“How do you know?” Beth asked.

“It’s in the eyes. I’ve seen the look of…cruelty so many times. I’ve seen the eyes of someone wanting to cause you not just physical pain, but emotional damage. I know even when they’re trying to hide it. Like Justin. Beatrice-Rose hides it well, but if you watch closely, it’s there.

“Caleb doesn’t have that…meanness in him. He never did,” I continued. “But if he did, if there was even a remote chance of him hurting me, I don’t think I could be with him. I know I couldn’t be with him,” I corrected. “If he lays a hand on someone, it’s because they’re threatening the people he loves and he needs to protect them. He’s not like my dad,” I finished after a moment. “And I’m not my mom.”

“I believe it,” Kara said, hiccupping, her eyes glassy from the alcohol. “I guess it could mean something different to everyone, because to me, it’s sexy as fuck when your man goes all caveman for some sexy time.”

I let out a soft laugh.

“But, Ver, where’s your dad now?” Kara asked. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

It was irrational, but my heart skipped a beat and that hollow feeling in my stomach intensified. “I’m not sure. I never tried to find out,” I replied honestly. “He might even be…dead now. My mom told me he was really sick last time she’d seen him, and that was years ago. He’s got liver failure from… He was drinking himself to death even when I was a kid, and he refused treatment.”

“I hope he’s dead.”

“Kar!” Beth exclaimed.

“It’s true.” Kara turned to Beth, her lips pursed in disgust. “Ver’s dad is a useless son of a bitch who”—hiccup—“didn’t deserve”—hiccup—“Ver and her mom.”

I nodded. Kara was right, but I didn’t voice what I was thinking or hoping. That, yes, I wanted him to be dead too. It made me feel ungrateful and cruel to wish him dead, because no matter how monstrous he was to my mom and me, he was good for a time. We were happy, and he had taken me into his home. But I was also realistic enough to understand that it was better that he was out of my life. I had no reason to expect to see him again.

“What about your biological parents?” Beth asked. “Weren’t you curious to find out who they are?”

“Of course I was. Especially when it got really bad at home. I remembered wishing that my biological parents would show up and save us from my dad.”

I took a deep breath, recalling the time when I tried to hide from my mom that I was looking for my biological parents. When she found out, she’d cried and said she would help me find them.

“My biological mom was an immigrant. I learned that she got pregnant with me just a few months after she arrived in Canada, but the man who got her pregnant left her. She died right after giving birth to me, and I was told she had no family.”

I wish I’d had a chance to meet her, the girl who had given birth to me. I was told she was very young when she died. She must have been terrified—alone and pregnant in a foreign country. She had never been real to me, but thinking about her made me feel sad.

“Wow. All the men in your life were spineless dicks. Caleb has a huge hole to fill.” Kara giggled. “God, someone needs to sanitize my mind, because now I’m thinking I just said something really, really dirty. Or am I just really drunk?”

“Too much, Kar. Too much.” I laughed, pouring more rum and Coke into my cup.

Still exhausted from last night, I leaned back against the couch, closed my eyes, and drifted into a light sleep. I woke up with a start when I heard Kara and Beth arguing and giggling drunkenly.

“Captain America is boring. Thor looks like he’s got a lot of…energy. I want all that yummy energy focused on me,” Kara said, wagging a chip at Beth.

“Shut the hell up!” Beth shot back. “Captain America is not boring. He’s sweet and good and responsible—”

“Otherwise known as boring. He looks like he folds his underwear.”

“—and very much disciplined. It makes me wonder what he’s like when he loses all that…control.”

“Be honest,” I chimed in, reaching for my empty cup. I’d filled it with iced tea this time. I realized someone needed to stay sober among us three. Just in case. “You only like Captain America because he reminds you of a sweet guy who has tattoos and whose name starts with a T.”

“Nope!” Beth pouted. “Besides, this hypothetical sweet guy whose name starts with a T…his type is skinny bitches. Like Kara. If I didn’t love you already, I’d fucking hate you, you skinny-ass gorgeous bitch. Hand me those cookies, Ver.”

“I thought you were on a diet?”

She glared at me. “I’ll diet tomorrow.”

“That’s what you said last week,” Kara added, grinning impishly.

“It changes every day. Don’t I have the right to change my mind?” Beth’s glare shifted to Kara. “Is this country under martial law? What’s the big deal if a girl isn’t skinny? Is being skinny one of the Ten Commandments?” Beth burst out. “Food will never judge me. Food loves me, and I love food.” She rose quickly and snatched the brownies from the coffee table.

“You don’t know what it’s like to have thunder thighs,” Beth continued, returning to the couch and glaring at Kara’s long, thin legs. “Do you know how difficult it is to get jeans that don’t make your legs look like fat sausages about to burst from their casings?”

“Or jeans that fit your legs but get stuck halfway up your butt,” I added helpfully.

“It’s a great thing,” Kara interrupted, glaring at us, “that your fat asses fill up the spaces in your jeans. It’s a great thing a dress doesn’t droop down your chest because you have no tits to hold it up. It’s a great thing—”

Beth cut off Kara’s speech, continuing enthusiastically as if Kara hadn’t spoken. “Or jeans that fit your fat thighs and huge butt perfectly, but hang really loose on the waist.”

“Absolutely,” I agreed.

“Screw it!” Kara burst out. “You know what? We’re all beautiful, badass bitches. Huge tits or no tits, huge ass or flat ass, we rule. We should be proud and loud about our bodies. They’re works of art.”

“Amen,” I agreed.

“Damn right. And if a dumb geek can’t see that, that’s his loss,” Beth added.

“Amen again,” I said.

“No matter how sweet or thoughtful he is. And how klutzy and cute and adorable he is whenever he spills his coffee. Or buttons his shirt wrong or… I’m totally not describing Theo. There are so many guys out there who are like that.”

“Sure, Betty,” Kara winked.

“Don’t call me Betty. Theo calls me Betty Boop.” She groaned, rolling her eyes. “Please, make me stop. Make my mouth stop.”

“Just keep stuffing it with food,” I suggested.

Kara reached for the pitcher of rum and Coke, but when she found it empty, she slumped back in her seat, deflated. “I’m too lazy to make more.” She turned to me, scrunching her face pitifully.

I sighed. “I’ll make more. Be right back.”

Kara smiled at me goofily. “I love you.”

“Ver, can you bring some cookies, please? Please? Please? And more chips too,” Beth drawled, her eyes half-closed. She was clearly drunk.

“Hey, sugar,” Kara teased. “Put on a movie.”

“Why do I have to get up? I’m comfortable. You’re the one who owns the apartment. I’m a visitor. You should serve me and—”

Shaking my head, I left them to argue. Five minutes later, I could hear the sounds of a movie playing from the living room. Kara drunkenly cheered, “Woop! Woop! Magic Mike, baby. Give Mama some love!”

Laughing, I finished making the rum and Coke. Pitcher in one hand, three bags of chips in the other, and a bag of cookies in the crook of my arm, I proceeded to the living room.

“I’m not getting up again after this…” I trailed off when my phone vibrated on the coffee table. Setting everything on the coffee table, I picked up my phone. It was a text from Caleb.

“Problem?” Kara asked, lifting her head from the couch to look at me.

I frowned. “Caleb says he forgot that he’d set up an appointment with the real estate agent tonight.” I checked the time. “And by tonight, I mean right now.”

“I thought he said the house hunting wasn’t till Friday. And what time is it?” Kara asked.

“That’s what he told me this morning,” I said. “And it’s half past six now. I’m going to call him.”

Kara rolled her eyes and turned back to the movie. I glanced at Beth as I dialed Caleb’s number. She was already snoring.

“He’s not answering. I think he’s there already. Probably talking to the agent.”

“Well, go. I bet you it’s a surprise something. Maybe this house has huge-ass counter space.” Kara cackled. “Is he picking you up?”

“He said he’s sending a taxi to pick me up—right now,” I answered as I texted him Kara’s street address to send to the driver.

Kara looked over her shoulder at me, winking. “I think Lockhart has something up his sleeve again.”

The taxi dropped me off at the address Caleb had texted. I looked up at the house, admiring it. It was Tudor style with big windows and a wraparound balcony on the second floor. Welcoming warm lights flooded the house inside.

I stood outside for a few moments, smiling. I could see us living here. Raising a family. Caleb talked about getting a dog. Maybe we’d have a couple of them running in the yard.

I could picture Caleb and me having breakfast on the balcony together, or sitting on the front porch at night talking about our day. An image of a little boy with copper-brown hair and green eyes flitted through my mind, and I felt something squeeze my heart.

“Daydreaming,” I muttered to myself, my lips splitting into a goofy smile. I realized I must have drank more of Kar’s rum and Coke than I thought.

The porch light flicked on as I stepped up to the front door and rang the doorbell. There was no answer. I looked at the house number again. It was the right address. Maybe they were somewhere in the house where they couldn’t hear the doorbell.

I pulled out my phone and dialed Caleb’s number. No answer again. I placed my hand on the doorknob and turned. It opened easily.

If Caleb had accidentally given me the wrong address and I was arrested for trespassing, I’d kick his butt to Timbuktu.

For a moment, I hesitated in the doorway. And then I heard something inside the house. Letting out a sigh, I stepped inside.

“Hello?” I called out, my voice echoing.

The house was beautiful inside. There was no furniture, providing an uninterrupted view of the large, open space where I could appreciate the wide windows and modern light fixtures.

“Caleb?” I called out again. Again, there was no answer. Something didn’t feel right. Uneasiness suddenly flooded me, some instinct telling me to leave. Before I could even turn around, I felt a presence behind me.

The sound of a gun being cocked froze my blood.

“Turn around,” the familiar voice said.

I held my breath, slowly turning around. Beatrice-Rose stood a few feet from me, a smug grin on her bloodred lips.

“Hello, Veronica.” She pointed the gun at my head, then lowered it to my heart. “Did you miss me?”