Kissed by a Rose: A Dead Roses Novel

by Workman, RaShelle

  “You look gorgeous,” I say, and mean it. Her choppy blond hair is spiked everywhere. Her eyes are lined, and her lips are reddened.

  I’m wearing dark jeans, a blue sweater, and my black ballet flats. My hair is pulled up in a high ponytail. I’ve put on some mascara and lip-gloss.

  She grabs her purse and my stomach churns. Now that I know what’s in there, what she’s going to do, I feel an unnatural hated for her stupid black purse. I want to make her stop, tell her she doesn’t need to do what I know she’s going to do, but I don’t.

  “I’ll be back in a few. Party face. Put it on.” She points the edge of the purse at me.

  I nod and try to smile.

  Then she’s gone, and I collapse on the bed. There’s a new ache in my veins. It’s my worry for Gina. I care about her. I like her. She’s a friend. But I’m not sure what to say, how to make her stop doing what I know she shouldn’t. It can’t be good for her. I mean, cocaine is illegal for a reason.

  I hear her slide the card in the door and smile big. The door opens and she puts her fists in the air.

  “Yay. Party face.”

  “Yay,” I respond with pretend enthusiasm and stand.

  “K. Here’s the rules.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Rules?”

  “No more than three drinks—the whole night. Lots of water. If a boy seems interested in either one of us, we stick by each other. No matter what. Deal?” She sticks up a hand, like she wants me to high-five her.

  I do.

  “Deal.”

  We head to the door. Gina looks me up and down. “Hey, you need a necklace.”

  “I don’t have one,” I answer, pulling the door open.

  My mother always wore a silver locket. Inside was a picture of me and her and my dad. My aunt tried to recover it. Even talked to the police. But it was never found.

  “Hang on,” she says, walking over to her jewelry box. She opens it and lifts out a long silver chain with a bulbous heart on the end. She places it around my neck and lets it fall against my chest. “That’s better.”

  “Thanks, Gina.”

  “Come on, Roomie. Let’s go have some fun.”

  * * *

  The party’s been going a while. I’m sitting on a large leather chair. Gina and I have followed our rules. I’ve had one shot. No more. Pleasant detachment meanders through my insides. Every time I see a drink, I want it. But I resist. Sipping water seems to help. Gina’s had two. Right now, she’s dancing with a cute guy. He has thick brown hair. A nice body under his white shirt and navy cargo pants. On his feet are loafers. They tell me he’s conceited but casual about it. I’m bothered by the looks he keeps giving Gina. Looks I’m not sure are good. But I don’t know. Maybe it’s normal.

  I haven’t seen Cole yet. He hasn’t shown. And I wonder if he’s going to.

  A giggly squeal forces my attention to a girl about to sit on the ratty green couch. It looks like the same one I saw at my first frat party. I wonder if they pass it from house to house, or if there was a giant sale on ugly green couches twenty years ago. As I’m watching, Doug sidles over. He sits on the arm of my chair, reeking of too much cologne and not enough sense.

  “Hello, Rosie.”

  A slow anger builds in my stomach. I see him watching Gina, a smirk on his boyish mouth, and I want to heave my knee into it. Make him bleed. I grit my teeth. “Get away from me,” I seethe.

  He looks at me, shocked. “Come on. Don’t be that way. I know you hooked up with Cole. I never would’ve guessed you were that kind of girl.” He smiles like I should know what he’s talking about. My anger grows. “Maybe tonight you, me, and Gina can get together. The three of us can hang out.” He touches the side of his nose and sniffs.

  My stomach turns with angry bile. How dare he? I shove him back as I scoot to the edge of the chair.

  Doug leans over, blocking my escape. “Don’t go. Come on. Cole’s got nothing on me, sweetheart.”

  A knot of alarm constricts my heart. I lash out. Use my annoyance to hide my panic. “Don’t you ever touch Gina or me again, you filthy jerk.” My breathing is heavy, my fists clenched in my lap. I want to wipe the pretty-boy smile off his face with my nails. Take the stupid gold chain hanging from his neck and twist it until Doug can’t breathe any more. I want to—

  “Rosie, is this guy bothering you?” Cole grabs Doug by the shirt and yanks him away.

  “Hey, man. Watch the shirt. It cost six hundred bucks. That’s probably more than you’ve ever seen all at once.” Doug readjusts his ugly, too-fancy tee shirt, glaring at Cole. “This isn’t an Alpha party and I’m not a grunt tonight. You, on the other hand, will always be the poor son of a dirty cop.”

  Before I have a chance to be shocked by the way Doug is talking to Cole, Cole punches Doug in the nose. I hear a distinct crack. Doug screams and falls back onto me. Cole grabs him by the collar, lifts him, and punches him again. Doug’s blood sprays across my face, my neck, my sweater, and my hands.

  Someone pulls Cole off Doug. “That’s enough! Take it easy.”

  I recognize one of the guys is Cole’s cousin, Evan.

  A couple of guys I don’t know are helping Doug. He’s got a hand over his nose. Blood is all over his six-hundred-dollar shirt.

  When he speaks, he sounds like he’s sporting a serious sinus infection. “If it’s broken, I’ll kill you.”

  Cole is no longer struggling against his cousin and the other guy. “Back off,” he says, and shoves Evan.

  They release him and he straightens. I’m surprised by how composed he looks. His breathing is calm. His hands are dangling loosely at his sides. There’s even a slight grin on his lips.

  He takes a step toward Doug. “I’d like to see you try, little Dougy.” Cole pokes Doug in the chest. “I may be the poor son of a dirty cop, but at least I’m not the jerk-son of a dirty congressmen.”

  Doug looks like he wants to say more, but he must have a little sense because he doesn’t. He turns away. His friends follow him.

  Evan comes up behind Cole and pats him on the back. “You okay, man?”

  Cole shakes him off, pushing out a laugh. “Why wouldn’t I be?” He turns his attention to me. Sticks out a hand.

  I grab it and he pulls me into his arms, kissing me full on the mouth. I want to be glad, but distress bells are pounding inside my head.

  Hoots and hollers go up all over the room. Thick tension, I hadn’t noticed until now, shatters at his lips on mine, and the air is breathable again.

  Cole steps back. “We need to get you cleaned up, and then we’re going to have some fun.”

  “I like that plan,” I say, wiping at something red next to his mouth. It’s thick, still a little warm, and kind of sticky.

  It hits me like a wrecking ball. It’s blood.

  Blood.

  Blood.

  Blood.

  My mind says it over and over. And I see all the blood pooling under my parents. The way they were lying there like they were sleeping. Except for all the blood underneath them and drenched in a circle on their shirts from their wounds. And I’m shaking. Trembling so much my teeth are chattering.

  “Looks like Rosie’s in shock. What’s wrong, darlin’? Afraid of a little blood?” Evan asks, his face too close to mine.

  The words ring in my ears, but I can’t focus. Blood is all over my fingers, my hands. I touch my face and feel it there.

  “Shut up, Evan,” I hear Cole snap.

  “You and your family are nothing but trouble.” Gina shoves her finger into Cole’s chest over and over again. She’s angry and taking it out on Cole. “Maybe you should leave her alone. Haven’t you done enough already?”

  I lean into Gina, willing her to be quiet, but I can’t utter the words.

  “Hey, Roomie,” she whispers. “Wanna get out of here?”

  “Y-Yes,” I get out.

  “Come on.” She grabs my hand and starts to walk, but I can’t move.

  I’ve forgotten how to pu
t one foot in front of the other.

  “Rosie?”

  Someone—Cole—lifts me into his arms. I want to scream. Beat my hands against his chest. My thinking is no longer rational. I know he’s only protecting me. He got in a fight with Doug to protect me. But all I can focus on is the blood.

  His father killed my parents, and it can’t be taken back.

  “What are you doing?” Gina’s voice again.

  “I’ll take her to her room.”

  22

  This is About a Boy

  Rosie

  I sit up with a start. The sun is beating through the windows. Birds are chirping, their nests built on the tiny ledge along the side of our building. For a split second I think I’m late for class. Then I remember it’s Saturday. The clock on the nightstand says nine sixteen.

  Gina is asleep in her bed, her hands tucked under her face.

  She’s at peace, I think, noticing how soft her features are without all the stress and worry etched in them.

  I pick up my shower bag and quietly go into the bathroom. Leaning against the sink, I stare at my reflection. I expect to see blood everywhere, but my face is clean. I glance down and notice I’m in sweatpants and a tee.

  There are two other girls in the bathroom, standing at other sinks, so I don’t freak out. I can’t help wondering how I got out of my blood-stained clothes. Then I notice something dried in my hair. Something red.

  I go to an empty shower stall and turn on the water. I wash my hair twice, then once more for good measure, to make sure I get it all out.

  “Rosie! Rosie!” Gina screams.

  I poke my head out. “What’s wrong?”

  She heaves a sigh of relief. “You scared the crap out of me. I woke and you were gone. Why aren’t you still asleep?”

  The other two girls getting ready suddenly decide they’re finished and bolt. One glances at Gina and I stile a smile. The girl is scary. I’m glad she’s on my side.

  “What are you looking at? Get out of here!” Gina flips her off.

  The other girl lets out an offended huff before exiting.

  I stifle a laugh. “I’m almost done. Be out in a sec.” I let the water cascade over my body.

  “Fine, but hurry. I’m hungry.”

  “For cafeteria food? Or Perky’s?” I can’t help sticking my head outside the shower curtain again.

  Gina rarely eats—ever. Especially not breakfast. When she does eat, it’s usually pastries from the coffee shop, Perky’s, in The Mall. I don’t think she’s ever eaten in the cafeteria.

  She seems to understand my curiosity. “It’s not like I have anything against cafeteria food.” She crosses her arms and pops a hip.

  “So, cafeteria then?”

  “Why not?” She shrugs. “It could be fun.” She throws up her hands and shakes her head.

  There’s something going on with her. There has to be, unless…

  “This is about a boy,” I say, turning off the water, wrapping my hair in a towel, and putting on my bathrobe.

  She gasps and her eyes get wide. “No, it isn’t. Why would you say that?”

  She glares at me, but I don’t budge. I know I’m right. “What’s his name?”

  She heads into a bathroom stall to pee. I walk over to a sink. Apply some face lotion before rubbing the towel through my hair. There’s mascara residue under my eyes. I use lotion and the end of a cotton swab to remove it. Apply some lip balm.

  Gina comes out of the bathroom and washes her hands. I walk over and catch her eyes in the mirror’s reflection. “Come on Gina, tell me his name.”

  “Fine. His name is Romney. I met him last night. We danced and we talked.”

  “Oh, yeah. I saw him.” I run my fingers over my eyebrows. They are everywhere. “So, you gonna meet him in the cafeteria?”

  She flicks me in the face with water. “Not if you don’t get your butt dressed.” She pushes open the bathroom door and I trail behind her.

  * * *

  The cafeteria is packed. I toast bread and slather it with butter before pouring myself some orange juice. Gina gets water and a chocolate muffin. We sit at the little table in the corner. The same one I sat at the first day of class. Gina is nervous. Antsy.

  “See him yet?” I can’t help but be amused. This is a side of her I’ve never seen before. She’s usually so laid back, uncaring. But her knee is rocking back and forth. She’s barely touched her food.

  Gina shakes her head. “No. Stop nagging me.”

  I cover a smile behind my napkin. “I’m going to go get some bacon. Want anything?”

  “No.”

  I choke on a laugh.

  The bacon is in the same area as the eggs, waffles, pancakes, and hash browns. The line is long, but I don’t mind waiting. It gives me the opportunity to think about what happened last night. The way I freaked out.

  Cole seems to care. He seems like a good person. And I know he didn’t kill my parents. My brain comprehends that, but I can’t seem to convince my heart.

  “It’s Rosie, right?” Someone taps me on the shoulder.

  I turn and am face to face with Simone, the girl from the night I ran into Cole. She’s wearing a cheerleader uniform. I think that explains a lot.

  “Yep.” The line is moving.

  “Did he make you feel special?” Her eyes twinkle with maniacal glee.

  My face scorches with mortification, and I’m not even sure why. “No,” I whisper, keeping my eyes down.

  She giggles.

  “I think he did,” Simone says. “And I think you liked it.”

  I look up, ignoring the rapid beating of my heart. It isn’t that I’m afraid of her. Hardly. It’s only that she’s confirming Cole rampant rounds with other girls. “It’s none of your business,” I say, swallowing down some of my irritation.

  “Okay,” she says, shrugging. “But if you ever feel like talking, I’m available.”

  “Got it.” I offer a silent plea she’ll leave without getting whatever food she’s after. She keeps her place behind me, and I want to scream. I finally reach the bacon, but it’s gone. Not wanting to leave empty-handed, I put a waffle on my plate. Pour syrup over it and head back to the table.

  Romney, the guy Gina is gaga about, is sitting with her. They seem to be deep in conversation. He’s holding her hand, stroking it with his thumb.

  Aww, I think, knowing I can’t interrupt them. My toast is still sitting on the table, but I’m abandoning it. Gina and Romney need their privacy. I search the crowded cafeteria looking for someplace else to sit, but everything is full, and I don’t know anyone. The cheerleaders are sitting at the long table with a bunch of people. They keep glancing my way and whispering.

  “Come on. You can sit with me.” It’s Cole, abruptly at my side. He’s got a tray piled high with food in his hands.

  I’ve got mixed feelings about seeing him. He heads over to another small table. Two guys are already sitting there. When they see Cole, they grab their trays and bolt. Cole sits and then waves me over.

  As I’m sitting, he says, “Glad to see you all cleaned up.”

  “Was it you? Did you wash my face? Clean me up?”

  He nods. “Yeah, Gina helped though.”

  “And my clothes?”

  “Gina’s idea too.” He holds his hands up in surrender. “I swear I didn’t look. Not even a peek.” His lips are curved up and I know he’s trying not to smile. I shouldn’t be paranoid. He’s been nothing but a gentleman.

  He touches my hand. “What happened last night?”

  I knew he would ask me this, so I’m prepared. “I think it was seeing all the blood. It freaked me out.” Honesty is the best policy, right?

  He nods, takes a bite of toast. Then his face gets serious. “I get the feeling there’s more going on. There’s something you aren’t telling me.”

  It’s true. But I can’t tell him about his dad. What I saw. Even if I wanted to, I can’t make myself say the words. But I need to tell him something
. “I-I saw my parents” I say quietly, so low he has to lean in to hear me. “The night they died. There was a lot of blood. They were laying in it.” Saying the words aloud makes me sick. But I’ve told him the truth. As much as I can.

  He squeezes my hand. “That makes sense. I’m so sorry. About your parents and last night. I lost my temper. Doug Lewis knows exactly how to push my buttons and I let him. Usually I’m more prepared. But when I saw him mauling you, I lost it.”

  I squeeze back. “He’s awful. Him and his six hundred-dollar shirts can suck it for all I care.”

  Cole laughs. “Agreed.”

  We eat in silence a few minutes. I haven’t had a waffle in a long time. It’s good. Once I’m done, I look up. Cole is watching me, and I wonder how long he’s been doing that.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Just admiring the view.”

  “Thanks,” I say, embarrassed. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

  He leans back in his chair. His face is unreadable. “What did Simone have to say?”

  My face bushes red hot. I can’t help it. “N-Nothing.”

  Cole crosses his arms. “That you’re blushing a beautiful shade of red tells me that isn’t true.”

  I look away, spinning the fork in the syrup still on my plate. There’s no way I’m telling him what she said. I’d sooner die a horrible death than repeat it.

  He rests his chest against the table. I feel it give slightly under his weight. “Your silence speaks volumes, Rosie.”

  I glance at him through my lashes. His ice blue eyes stake me through the heart. He licks his bottom lip and runs a hand through his hair. He’s beautiful. Sexy. My face flushes hotter.

  “Talk to me,” he whispers, playing with my hand.

  I want to. I want to look him in the eyes and tell him everything. But not here. “Can we go somewhere? Want to practice our duet?” My “go-to” place.

  He smiles. “It’s Saturday.”

  “And?”

  He shrugs. “All right. Let’s go.”

  We stand together. Drop off our trash and head toward the exit.