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That childhood friend I never wanted to be friends with in the first place. Our parents are close; they’re elitists, rich people who don’t want to marry out of Stoneview. And they took me down with them. His dad and mine have always worked together, their businesses relying on each other.
Our whole time in high school, Conor kept my secret. He knew I didn’t want to follow my parents’ plan: don’t go to college, do a simple online course to have a diploma, get to know Conor, get married, and have children. They always told me I was too stupid to do anything else.
Conor…He never said he would help me run away with my girlfriend, but he also said he would keep my secret. That he would never tell my parents I was dating Rose White, never tell them I planned on running away with her.
Then Rose got taken.
On the day we were supposed to find our ultimate happiness away from Stoneview, she…disappeared into thin air.
Conor grew more and more possessive. He threatened to spill everything to my parents, to tell them what would undoubtedly bring shame on the family.
Your daughter is a lesbian.
He always calls me a lesbian, like he knows.
Idon’t even know.
Nonetheless, I do know I hate him with my whole being. And the last thing I want is for people at Jake White’s birthday party to know we’ve been trying to have a child.
Especially now that Rose is back.
“I need another one.” His voice brings me back into the room. He’s waving his empty tumbler in front of my face, and this time I do roll my eyes.
“Are you sure?” I huff. “It’s barely midnight, the night is still young.”
“Rachel,” he smiles. He shuffles closer to me and puts strands of my short, blonde hair behind my ear with his free hand. His fingers splay across my cheek, and he tenderly tilts my head up so we can look into each other’s eyes. “Has anyone ever told you, you are much hotter when you don’t talk?”
My mouth falls slack at his words. What a dick. It’s not like he never says these things to me, but his gesture was so loving…
Strings of curse words run through my mind as I smile and nod. “I’ll go get you another one,” I finally reply.
In my head, I’ve stabbed him fifty times, blood is spilling through all the wounds, and he tries to talk but coughs up more blood instead. He asks why as he empties himself of the crimson liquid that was keeping his pathetic life inside his body.
Die, fucker. Die! Die! Die!my demon shouts.
He slaps my ass as I turn around to go to the bar, and embarrassment burns my cheeks. My demon puts other scenarios of Conor dying in my head.
“Another whiskey and coke, please,” I smile at the bartender who’s set up in the living room. He’s standing behind tables that have been covered with white silk tablecloths. He hands me the drink and I down it in one long gulp.
“Another, please.” He tries not to judge me, but his eyes don’t lie. “For my fiancé,” I justify.
I look around the room as I wait for the other drink.
Stop it, Rachel. She’s not here. She didn’t come.
She’s probably tired. Exhausted from being back and adapting to real life again.
I wonder what it was like? Every single night, I have dreamed of her. A beautiful girl with long, ink-black hair, locked in a pitch-black basement. Bruised, bleeding, crying…The only thing lighting up the dark basement is her blue eyes. Every night I wake up sweaty, my heart beating out of my chest.
Where were you, Rose?
“Rach, hey. Are you and Conor having fun?”
I grab the drink from the bartender before turning to Jake. He and Rose look so alike, that it never ceases to amaze me. Especially when he was the only one left, everyone could see her through him.
“Hey, Jake. Happy birthday,” I say as cheerfully as I can muster.
“Thanks.” He runs a hand through his messy hair. “I already got my favorite present. Nothing is going to surpass that, I think.”
