Kissed by a Rose: A Dead Roses Novel

by Workman, RaShelle

  She glances at Cole, who is having a heated discussion with Evan. “Don’t do anything.” She stops. “What am I saying? Do lots of crazy stuff.”

  I laugh. “Thanks. I will.”

  She sidles up to Romney and kisses him like they’re alone—or should be. They walk away together. Arms around each other. It’s really sweet. I hope she can work out her issues and that Romney can help, but I worry that won’t be the case.

  My uncle grabs the bag off my shoulder and tosses it in the trunk. I roll over the other one. “This one, too.”

  He throws it in, and then hugs me tightly. “Missed you, kid.” He ruffles my hair like I’m five.

  I pat my hair back into place. “Missed you, too. Thanks for coming to get me.”

  He guffaws. “Of course.” Uncle John opens my door. I slide in behind my aunt.

  “Hey, honey,” Aunt Eliza says.

  “Hi.” I get buckled, and my uncle starts the car.

  “Did you need to say good-bye to that boy?” He looks at me in the rear-view mirror. I wonder if he knows who that boy is? I’m sure my aunt does.

  I peek out the back window. See Cole’s looking my way. I wave. Either he doesn’t see me or he’s mad. He turns away and climbs into his Jeep. The wheels squeal as he pulls away from the curb.

  “I guess not.”

  * * *

  My room looks the same as it did the day I left. Pale green walls, cream curtains, shelves full of books. An antique desk and chair and my queen-sized bed. I toss Gina’s bag on the floor and set my suitcase next to it. Unzip it and pull out my music. The first thing I want to do is play piano. My piano.

  I climb down the stairs and head straight for the black baby grand. Lift the top and push back the lid.

  Scales first. I play for a few minutes, then alter my bench. Play more scales. Then I run through the duet I’m going to play with Cole.

  When I finish, there’s clapping from the kitchen.

  “That’s beautiful, Rosie,” Aunt Eliza says.

  “Thanks.” I fiddle with some chords, playing the melody that’s been rattling around in my head the past few days.

  “Dinner’s ready,” she says when I stop.

  I stand. “Did you need some help? I can set the table,” I say, entering the kitchen.

  My aunt wipes her eyes. “No.” She hugs me tightly. “It’s good to have you home.”

  I worry she’s going to say something about Cole, but my uncle is already seated at the small oak table, waiting. I sit across from him in my regular spot. Aunt Eliza brings over a plate of burgers. They are covered in melted cheese and bacon. Instead of buns there are glazed donuts. I raise my eyebrows in question.

  “A celebration dinner,” Aunt Eliza says.

  Uncle John puts two glazed donuts on his plate. Stabs a hamburger patty with a fork and places it on top of one of the donuts. Slaps some lettuce, tomato, and catsup over the top. Sticks the other donut over it. Lifts it to his mouth and takes a bite. A little catsup squishes out the side of his mouth. He wipes at it with a napkin. “Not bad.”

  I shrug. Repeat what I saw him do and take a deep, preparatory breath. “Alrighty then, here I go.” I take a bite. Chew. My uncle’s right. It isn’t bad. It’s actually kind of tasty. I take another bite.

  Eliza laughs. “See, John dear, she likes it.” She grabs a cookie sheet full of fries and dumps them into a bowl. Brings them over along with a container of caramel. “Would you like some fries with that?” She smiles brightly.

  I giggle. “Most definitely.”

  Uncle and I give the caramel fries a taste. The combination is actually surprisingly delicious—the sweet from the caramel and the salt on the fries adds an umami quality to them. John seems to agree because he’s nodding.

  I can’t help a surge of love for these amazing people. For years I held on to anger over the fact that they hadn’t helped me punish Cole’s father, but over time I came to understand they were doing what they thought was best for me, and I couldn’t be angry at them for that. In their house there was strange food and awkward movies, but more than that, there was love. I felt it strong, stronger even than the memories of my parents. I grab their hands and squeeze. “I’m so glad to be home.”

  * * *

  Cole

  “Cole. You ready to go, man?” Evan bursts into my room as I’m throwing a pair of socks in my bag.

  “Yeah, almost.” I zip the duffel bag and throw it over my shoulder. “Ready.”

  He laughs, and something about it sounds strange. “Cool. Let’s do this.”

  I shrug. Evan is weird, and he’s been extra jumpy lately. I figure it has to do with his shady business dealings. The digging I’ve been doing has brought out things I’d rather not now, things that aren’t good. I’m worried that what Rosie said about my dad is true and I’ve uncovered more. Things that tell me my uncle is involved as is Evan, obviously. It’s hard to believe the truth, even when it’s staring me in the face, but I feel I owe it to myself and to Rosie to find out the truth, no matter the consequences.

  Finished, I follow Evan out of the apartment before locking the door.

  “Let’s take my car,” Evan says.

  “You sure, man?” That’s unusual, but I go with it. My Jeep is almost out of gas.

  “Get in, jerky face.”

  His red SUV makes a double beep sound. I pull open the back door and toss my bag in the seat. Evan’s bag is back there as well. We live ten minutes away from his parents’ house, but it’s easier to have our stuff there. Especially since they want us to stay the weekend with them. Evan revs the engine, and we take off.

  “So, what’s up Rosie’s butt? I thought you and her were a thing? She can’t even talk to you. Too good for you? What a witch.” Evan pulls out of the parking lot and onto Decatur Street.

  “Shut up, Evan. You don’t know what you’re talking about.” But he’s got a point. Why did she blow me off when I saw her? I’d gone there to say good-bye, but she’d ignored me completely. I thought we were past that. I mean, I have problems too. My parents are dead, but I don’t act all hot and cold from one second to the next. It’s frustrating. “She’s got a lot on her mind,” I say lamely.

  “Sure, whatever you say.” Evan acts like he wants to bash her the whole way, but I can’t.

  I turn on his radio. Heavy Metal screams through the speakers. It rips right through me and pushes out the crap brewing inside my chest.

  Evan misses the turn that’ll take us to the house, and I look over. “You stoned?”

  “No. We need to make a stop first.” He seems nervous. Too smiley.

  I look away. “Whatever.” I can’t stop thinking about Rosie and what’s going on with her.

  After several more minutes, we pull up in front of an old worn-down warehouse. There are buildings on either side of it and across the street. One looks like an airline hangar. “This isn’t creepy. What do you have to do here?” I ask the question, but I think I know. I’ve done enough digging to have an idea.

  Evan grinds his teeth together. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

  He puts the SUV in park and climbs out. I follow, even though I don’t want to. He’s walking toward a set of rickety stairs that leads up to an even ricketier old door. When I step on the bottom step, it creaks. The wooded banister shakes under my grip. Evan produces a set of keys from his pocket and unlocks the door. “Why are we here?” I try again, hoping he’ll tell me it’s nothing bad. Maybe it’s a party. I hope it’s a party.

  He opens it. “You’ll see.” I follow him in.

  As soon as he closes the door, I feel a slight prick in the back of my arm. I turn, wondering what happened. Evan is holding a needle. He poked me with it.

  “Lights out, bro.”

  I feel myself fall, unable to control my limbs or my mouth. If my fists worked, I’d pummel my cousin.

  As it is, I’m suddenly beyond tired.

  34

  The Truth Is Out

  Rosie


  My pajama top smells like Cole and I can’t help but inhale, enjoying his scent. I pull out my phone, wishing I could text him. It’s only been eight hours since I’ve seen him, but it feels like forever. He’s the last person I think about before I fall asleep and the first person I who pops into my head when I wake. If I had to choose to spend a lifetime with one person, it would be him. Without question. And it really hits me. I’m not in love with the boy Cole was when we were eleven. I’m in love with the man he’s become. The man who could so easily have anyone but chose me.

  And I want to tell him. I want to call him up, ask him to meet me, and tell him face to face that I’m irreversibly, undeniably in love with him.

  Which is crazy, right? I mean we’ve kissed. Had some serious make out sessions. But that’s it. Am I being naive?

  I need to talk to Gina.

  Quickly I text her. I love Cole.

  Her response comes back. Bull! You can’t love someone you haven’t slept with. My recommendation? Lose your virginity. Kiss at least three more guys, and then get back to me.

  I snort. I don’t want to do any of that stuff without anyone but Cole. He’s the only person I ever think about… when I think about those kinds of things.

  Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. You have those kinds of feelings? I thought your insides were all sunshine and rainbows.

  They are, Miss Salty, but I’m also human. Occasionally there are thoughts. And they involve Cole.

  You’re weird. Whatever. You love him. But is it enough to forget about the past? What his father did?

  That’s a very good question, but I know the answer. Yes! I decide to change the subject. How’s alone time with Romney?

  Awesome. Getting ready to party. Can we talk more tomorrow?

  K. He’s nice to you, right? Treats you with respect?

  He’s wonderful.

  Good. Be safe.

  You too. :)

  Since my iPod is busted, I put a CD into the player and push play. My aunt and uncle are downstairs watching TV, but I still keep the music low. I sit on my bed, wrapping my arms around my waist. I’m already feeling antsy. I really want to talk to my aunt and uncle about all that’s been going on, but I haven’t been able to bring myself to do it. They seem so happy, so content. I don’t want to ruin that. Flopping back against my pillows, I try to get lost in the music. It’s an Olivia Newton John CD—Xanadu. It really isn’t my type of music, but it’s one of the first my aunt and uncle gave me. Plus, it’s better than silence. I need to drown out my thoughts, but that’s impossible. I can’t stop thinking about Cole, my parents, Evan and his threats, and the photo. It would seem logical to do to the police, but I can’t forget the day I went to the police station and told the truth, only to be looked at like a stupid child. The chief of police was a bad man. He did something wrong. He murdered my parents and got away with it. Why would I tell the police what I’m going through now? I have no reason to trust them, even though I’m sure there are great police officers. I don’t know one though and I’m too afraid to trust anyone there.

  As I roll ideas and scenarios over, my phone vibrates against my stomach. It’s from Cole.

  Can I see you tonight?

  I’m surprised he’s texting me. I ignored him today before leaving with my aunt and uncle. But I respond, happy he’s contacted me. Um, probably not. It’s late. I would love to see him, but I don’t want to risk it. He told me he’s staying with Evan. If he were to leave, that would mean Evan would know. I can’t take a chance.

  I really miss you. And I didn’t get to give you a proper good-bye kiss. Please.

  Aren’t you tired? I text back, laughing. It’s really sweet that he’s talking to me, though.

  Nah. Plus, I’m parked outside your house. Come down.

  I jump off my bed and pull back the curtains. A large oak tree sits in the center of my window, but because it’s winter I can see Cole’s Jeep through the leafless branches. It’s parked across the street beside a large snowdrift.

  My aunt and uncle are still awake. I can’t. My heart is racing. I really do want to see him. The curtains fall back into place and I search the room, trying to think of an excuse to leave the house. Nothing is coming. My phone vibrates.

  Are you five? Just tell them you’re going out with friends.

  Holy crap. Duh. I should be afraid for Cole. Because of what Evan said, threatened. But since he’s already here, there’s nothing I can do about it, right? And if he’s here then he’s safe. At least for now. I’ll be right down.

  I run a quick brush through my hair. Pull on his sweatshirt, the one he let me borrow. Grab my black boots and slide them on. Then run downstairs.

  “Hey, I’m going out with friends. I’ll be back later.” I open the front door.

  “Hold up, darling.” Uncle John walks into the foyer. “Where ya heading?”

  I shrug. “Out.”

  “With who?” Aunt Eliza asks.

  I can’t tell them it’s Cole, they wouldn’t understand. “With some people from school.”

  “People?” Uncle John deadpans.

  “Uh, okay. It’s a boy.” I move onto the porch.

  Aunt Eliza steps forward, and I know she’s thinking about Cole, but I don’t want to hear her negativity about him. I run down the steps. “I’ll be back in a while.”

  “You have your phone?” Uncle John asks.

  “Yep,” I say.

  “Have fun. And remember the titans,” Uncle John adds, tapping his nose.

  “Um, okay. I will.” Sometimes he makes no sense. I dash across the street. Cole is wearing a hoodie so I can’t see his face. I hurry to the passenger side and open the door.

  “Hi,” I whisper as I jump in.

  “Hi yourself, Lard Rose.”

  Before I have a chance to scream, the glint of a gun flashes. He’s holding it in one hand. “Knock her out,” he says toward the back seat. A cloth covers my mouth and nose and I’m suddenly very tired.

  * * *

  Cole

  When I come to, my head is pounding, and my stomach feels queasy. “Crap.” It’s like I have a hangover. I check my arm to see if there’s something there to prove Evan stabbed me with a needle. There’s a slight lump.

  “Evan!” I yell, scanning the room. It’s sterile. Overly so. It doesn’t look like it belongs in the old warehouse I walked into. Four white walls. The cot I’m sitting on. A bright light shines overhead, a door, and an aluminum toilet in the corner. “Evan!” I twist the handle on the door. Shake it. Try to kick it in. It won’t budge. The sounds reverberate. Echo. “Evan!” I shout again, hoping he’ll show his face so I can pound it. Several minutes pass. No one comes.

  I sit back down on the cot. Rest my head in my hands. All sorts of things run through my mind. Is this some sort of hazing prank? Even as I think that, I know the truth. I’ve uncovered stuff about my uncle and Evan that could get them into a lot of trouble. Put them in jail for years. I’ve dug up one too many secrets and obviously Evan and my uncle know it. I’m probably here so they can beat some sense into me.

  Even with all of Evan’s shady dealings, this seems out of character and way too elaborate for the people I’d seen him hang with. I can’t decide what’s going on. Evan’s been weird lately, but this seems crazy. I reach in my pocket to get my phone, but it’s gone. Evan must’ve taken it. And I’m suddenly worried. About what his stealing my phone might mean.

  He wouldn’t hurt me. No matter what he’s into. He’s just trying to scare me off his trail into all the bad he’s done the last few years. My uncle too.

  Thoughts run through my mind, but none of them make me feel any better. Because the fact is, Evan put me in here.

  I lay back on the cot. Close my eyes. Try not to think about anything.

  The sweet smell of Rosie’s hair fills my nose. I see her eyes sparkle right before I kiss her. Feel her warm skin against my fingers.

  A rustling at the door brings me out of my memories. I stand, preparing myself fo
r a fight. Two huge guys, the size of concrete walls, enter. They look familiar. Maybe they were friends of my dad’s.

  “You guys here to let me out?”

  The one on the left is wearing a dark suit, white-buttoned shirt, and pinstriped tie. His hair is blond, pulled back in a ponytail. The other guy is in jeans and a pink golf shirt. His head is shaved, and his ears are pierced, like Mr. Clean on steroids.

  “Mr. Morrison would like you to sit tight and be cool. He says you’ll be out in no time.” They open the door to leave.

  “Wait. That’s all you got?” They can’t leave. They just got here, and I need information. “What’s this all about?” My fingers find the spot where I felt the needle go in. It’s slightly raised and feels extra warm. I’m guessing it has to do with the drug he injected in me.

  Baldy and Ponytail exchange a look. Ponytail shrugs. “If Mr. Morrison hasn’t told you, we probably shouldn’t say.”

  I walk up to Ponytail, anger burning my vision. “Serious. You need to let me out.” I shove my fingers into his shoulder. Faster than I believed such a big guy could move, he grabs my arm, twists, and pushes me to my knees. Pain shoots through my arm and my leg and I groan.

  “Stay put, tough guy,” Ponytail says, releasing me. He pushes some stray hair from his face, scowls, and walks out the door. I hear it being locked behind them.

  I shake the stars from my eyes and drag myself over to the cot. Blood drips from my nose. I don’t know why. I’m not prone to nose bleeds. I’m thinking it might be a side effect of whatever he injected into me. I wipe at, annoyed. It isn’t bad. I’m about to lay back down when I notice something sliver on the floor beside the door. It wasn’t there before. I go over and pick it up.

  It’s a key. One of them dropped a key. That seems way too lucky and I’m worried it’s a trap. So, I head back to the cot and lie down. I need to bide my time and wait for the right moment.