Blood Rose (7 page)

“The cards are wrong! I did something wrong… The first one was nothing like her! Momma, she’s my best friend. Okay, when? - Well, check I need to bring her soon. What should I tell her? I can’t exactly tell her she’s going to die! These cards aren’t supposed to be so literal!” Slowly I backed away from the door.

I sunk to the floor next to the coffee table, cleaning the mess with my fingers in a daze. A moment later Neesa emerged from the bathroom, paler than I had ever seen her. “Anna?” Her soft voice cracked. “I didn’t mean to run off like that. I told you I wasn’t feeling well.”

I could barely acknowledge her with a nod. “You should go home and get some rest,” my voice was weak. Emotionless and even.

“Maybe that’s a good idea.” She picked up her things and shoved them all back into her purse slowly. I stood, taking the teacups into the kitchen to wash them for her. She put the pillow back onto the chair and moped up the rest of the tea mess with paper towels. All the while neither of us spoke.

With gleaming wet eyes, Neesa hugged me goodbye tightly and left with the promise I would see her again soon. Even if I didn’t want to I imagined.

V

“CHURNING WATERS”

After a night of sleep, I had hoped to feel a little better about the day before. Unfortunately, no such luck. The dreams were worse than ever too.

They were wild and violent but nothing like usual. Just images flashing occasionally in utter darkness. The dark didn’t keep the sound of the screams away though. My own screaming awoke me to find my pillow stained in fresh blood, which still ran down from my nose and busted lip.

Quickly I stripped my pillowcase and threw the pillow to the floor using the thick Egyptian cotton case to wipe my face and hold against my gushing nose and mouth.

The quick action came from experience. In fact, I picked the high thread count black Egyptian cotton set because it didn’t absorb liquid well. That and it was pretty easy to hide blood stains with black. In turn, my pillow on the floor had limited bloodstains.

Sliding out of bed, I ran for the bathroom, dropping the pillowcase on the floor. Turning the faucet on hot I cupped water into my hands and quickly washed my face clean. Watching the blood swirl through the water and run down the drain.

Staring into the mirror as the last drops of blood dripped off my chin before they had healed enough to stop. My lip had been busted from biting it- a terrible nervous habit of mine.

Grabbing a towel, I dried off and dropped it to the floor on top of the pillowcase and muddy clothes from the night before as I walked back to my bed, sitting on

the edge. The clock read six forty-five a.m. I had gotten three hours sleep it seemed. In about five more hours, I would be on the way to work.

The time was spent soaking my bloody laundry in peroxide. Rinsing and washing the muddy clothes with them from the night before and my bag that had been drenched and muddied the night before. Its contents were strewn across the stripped bed on a towel.

After cleaning, I sat on my bed weaving a Dutch braid down over my shoulder. When I was finally done I stripped out of the tank top and yoga pants from the night before. Exchanging them for one of my nicer black bras and underwear sets while staring at my closet in wonder. Finally, I grabbed a nice black cotton tank top and a sheer white lace one to pull over it. Dark blue denim jeans with a black and white lace scarf that had silver thread woven through it as a belt.

My ears were pierced three times up each side and once in the top on my left side. I stuck in some dangly silver earrings with stars hanging from different length of silver chains in the bottom holes and a different stud earring in all the other holes: one silver lizard, a dragonfly, silver rose bud, shiny blue star, one diamond and a red lady bug in the top left side.

Once I was jeweled up, I dumped the rest of my jewelry out to polish it. A small cheap velvet box caught my eye in the corner of my cheap old jewelry box. It was my grandmother’s necklace. She had been a devout Roman Catholic. Of course, I never claimed any faith but she’d given it to me anyways. Once it was clean, I slipped it on around my neck.

To be honest, I was doing all of this to distract myself from thinking about the day before. Didn’t work sadly.

While strategically putting on makeup to cover the blue rings under my eyes, my mind was stuck on the tarot reading from last night. Mentally trying to piece a connection together with life as I knew it compared to what Neesa said. What she sort of said. What she wouldn’t say and what I overheard to be more accurate.

The walk to work made me feel jittery. Unable to shake the feeling of being followed or any of the memories of the night before. These feelings lingered when I had arrived at work, stealing my focus.

Mike startled me to attention while I doddled in the office before my shift by bursting through the door. “Good, you’re early. Clock in we’re having a shift meeting today in the storage room.” Giving him a nod, I finished securing an apron around my waist and punched into the computer on his desk before following him out.

The storage room was just past the kitchen that led to the back doors and the pit. It was basic. Walk in fridge and freezer to the left and two standalone fridges for the dry aged meats. The main room was about twenty by twenty. Metal wracks lined each wall each lined with the basics: Onions, rice, flour, sugar and a million other things that created our various offerings. It smelled like potatoes and cardboard mostly. The office is where we kept everything for the bar and all the cleaning supplies. The office was the same size of the storage room.

We held shift meetings to go over unusual parties like prom nights for the high school, new menu items, our duty chores for each section. We had two prep cooks and two line cooks. Because of the small kitchen staff, each server had set up and closing work to help the kitchen and thus help ourselves in making sure the

restaurant runs better. Simple stuff mostly, cleaning sometimes or cutting lemons and limes and prepping other little fruits and stuff for the bar. At close, we check the soda station and stock and clean.

We opened in an hour and shift meetings were common throughout the week. Today’s hadn’t been scheduled. I expected Mike would give us a run down on who had what section and how many parties were planned. General things as such.

This day would be much different however.

As I joined Neesa in the tightly clustered group, I looked up to see Damien leaning against a wall feigning interest in the bulletin board. Neesa nudged me and motioned with her head in Damien’s direction. Obviously wanting the same answer I did. What was he doing here?

Of course on his right was Carrie flirting her way through an explanation of everything on the board.
Yes it was sooo hard to figure out the schedule and section chart. Or the flyer for Brayden’s upcoming party. Maybe she thought he was too stupid to understand the phone list. Hell maybe he was. How should I know?
Damien chuckled, shaking his head with a strange look of amusement. I swore his eyes cast in my direction.

But then again I may be going crazy.

“Alright everyone, listen up,” Mike bellowed. “It’s gonna be twice as busy as it was last night. And as you all obviously know by now we have a new employee, Damien D’Tera.” Mike went off assigning sections that Angie had laid out the night before. She was the best hostess we’d ever had- fair in every sense of the word.

Once finished, Mike turned his focus on Damien and me.
Oh boy
. “Anna. You’re going to train Damien tonight. Damien, listen to her every word. We’re gonna be busy so you need to stay out of the way and try to help out as much as you can all at once.”

Standing there speechless and stunned, Mike’s frustration began to grow. He leaned closer to me as if no one else could hear, despite the fact he didn’t know how to whisper. “I know you hate being thrown into the fire but you’ve been here the longest. So just do what you need to with him.”

Just then, Carrie slithered into our conversation, while running a hand up Damien’s arm. “Mike, if Anna’s not up to it I would be more than happy to pick up her slack.”
I bet you would.

Damien smiled whilst sliding his arm away from Carrie as he too stepped into the conversation. “It’s alright. I promise not to get into anyone’s way. I’ve done this before as you remember from our conversation, Mike.”

Damien’s eyes locked with Mike’s. After a moment of pause, Mike shook his head. “Take care of Anna then, Damien.” Damien nodded and stepped over to my side, opposite of Neesa. I was still speechless as Mike hurried to break up the group and get us to work.

Carrie shot me the look of death as she pushed through Damien and me. Bumping my shoulder in a way I’m sure she hoped hurt. It didn’t. Damien didn’t even acknowledge the scene as he looked at me with a sly yet amused smirk. “Where do we begin?”

“Um,”
How bout with why you’re here?
“I’m section three which means we prep drinks. Go find the lemons, cucumbers and limes in the walk in.” Damien looked at me expectantly. “Oh, ten each on lemons and limes and two cucumbers. Meet me in the prep kitchen.” I grabbed a huge jar of maraschino cherries and marched to the kitchen without a backwards glance.

Mike was right about being slammed. It was so busy it was eleven at night before we looked like we were done with parties and the walk-ins were only aiming for the bar.

Of course, Damien did great all night. He got plates to my tables while I took orders. Also, he made sure not a single table went without a drink refill for the entire restaurant. At one time, he slipped behind the bar and helped our bar tender out with his rush. He never missed a beat as he spun a bottle of vodka through the air, caught it and poured a martini glass full. Even managing not to spill a drop as he slid it to the patron waiting.

We were so busy I hadn’t had the chance to really ask him much of anything. The only talking we did was shift talk
“We do this this way that that way. This is kept here and that over there. I need this here and that over there.”
Nothing of what I wanted to ask. At least until near closing time when close work started.

The restaurant only really had one shift. People would split or work half shifts if they had errands to run but we didn’t open till one in the afternoon and started shutting down at eleven at night. On some occasions, we stayed open late if due to an occasion or just because people wouldn’t seem to leave. Tonight was one of those nights.

“Damien, come help me with the soda canisters. I will show you how we change them out.” We unhooked two empty canisters and carried them to the back. They were kept in the office with all the alcohol.

Just as we stepped into the office, I shut the door and leaned my back into it. “Out with it, Damien.”

“At last you call me Damien.” He smiled that rueful smirk. “Out with what?” He turned to face me. His eyes narrowed with a mock show of bewilderment. What on earth could I possibly mean?

“What are you doing here?” My brows rose expectantly. I don’t buy innocent.

“Well I thought we were grabbing new soda

canisters.” Folding his arms over his chest with his usual amused smirk. He was mocking me.

“Riads? Really? I’m not stupid. You know exactly what I mean. You mean to try to tell me, that your only option for a job is a waiter at a hole in the wall?” I nodded at the shirt he was wearing. Of course I was only guessing. Let’s just say it sure wasn’t from Wally World.

He gave an innocent casual shrug. My questioning him like this didn’t bother Damien one bit. “You’re right. I don’t need this job. But I’ve always been good at this sort of thing and I like this place. Calling it a hole in the wall is hardly fair by the way.” For a split second, I flinched. He was right. It wasn’t five stars but it was nice.

I pushed the last comment aside. Damien’s answer caught me off guard.
Who on earth works a grunt job for fun?
“What did mommy and daddy tell you to get a job to try and teach you responsibility or something like that?” My voice was hard and accusatory. He was barely twenty-one. I’d met plenty of guys like that in college- only there to keep their parents money in their pockets.

Damien’s lips tightened and twitched slightly. “I don’t actually remember my mother and father. So I am sorry but I’m afraid you’re mistaken. Is there really something wrong with me working here
simply because I want to?” It still felt like he was evading me even though he was answering my questions. Sort of. The twisted smile resumed.

Boy was I the bitch now! “Oh god.” My chin dropped, averting my gaze away from him. “Okay. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed I knew you. But how did you know where I live?” On the last sentence, my eyes came back up to meet his. My brow rose as my lips twisted into a tense smirk in mock of his, while in the meantime my stomach was doing back flips of unease. There was no graceful recovery for the way I’d jumped at him.

“I’m not a stalker. Just observant. Before I started here I didn’t have much to do in town so I just drove around a lot. I’d seen you walking to and from the building a few times. I just assumed. I should have told you instead of making you so nervous. I’m sorry, really.” His grin was gone as he looked me directly in the eye. He seemed so open, so honest and yet simultaneously elusive.