Devilish--Chapter Two

I woke up sprawled out on the couch two hours later with a bad taste in my mouth. It took me a moment to gather my thoughts and remember everything that had happened but when I did, the first thing I did was dash to the front door and make sure it was locked tightly.

Wren. His name was Wren and he’d saved my life and left like it was nothing. Admittedly that made me the tiniest bit angry. I hadn’t had the chance to thank him and I probably wouldn’t. Sure, he’d promised we’d meet again but people make promises they don’t mean all the time; promises were made to be broken.

Sinking down with my back against the door, the coldness seeping through my thin t-shirt and I wrestled with the emotion that threatened to choke me--namely fear. I had literally almost died not two hours ago and now I was alone, filled to the brim with questions I’d never get answered. I toyed with the idea of calling the cops but Wren’s low voice rang in my head, ‘that’s probably the worst thing you could do.’ There was nothing I could do, actually, except try to forget about him or believe he’d been telling the truth when he’d said he’d tell me the next time we met.

I stood up from the cherrywood floor, clinging to the hope of seeing him again and went into the kitchen. The light over the stove was on but that wasn’t bright enough for me. There was darkness everywhere and I was still entirely too paranoid to cope with that so I turned on both the ceiling lights and the overhead lights, expelling all of the shadows around me. My stomach growled and it hit me. I was absolutely starving. The fridge had never looked so inviting and I pulled open the chrome door, rattling jars and bottles as I searched for something to eat. In the end I settled for a grilled cheese and half a can of tomato soup that I heated in the microwave and brought back into the den where I could clearly envision Wren slouched against the armchair eyeing me coolly.

I shook my head to clear thoughts of him and turned on the TV. It was Friday night and there was bound to be something good on.

An hour later, two hours earlier than she expected, Delaney showed up. When she knocked at the door I gasped and debated getting a weapon, and then she said, “Babe, open up!” in her instantly recognizable voice. I breathed a sigh of relief, sped to the door, and unlocked it for her. “Thank God that rain’s finally stopped; I would’ve been soaked what with you locking me outside and all. Good Lord, Rose, what happened to your hair?” Delaney pushed past me into the house and I shut the door behind her, rolling my eyes. I had to have a full-blown afro by this point.

“Sorry about that,” I said. I usually left the door unlocked for her but once again, my wariness of intruders got the best of me. Suddenly I got the urge to tell Delaney everything about my night—the gunman and the dead guy that came back to life and the stranger who’d saved me.

“And what’s more,” she went on, “you can’t leave scrap metal lying around your yard, darling. I nearly broke my foot tripping over this.” Delaney waved a u-shaped piece of metal I hadn’t taken note of sooner at me. The poker. I swallowed my intentions of telling her about my evening right then and there, the thought of what might happen if Abe or Wren or Cirron found out I’d told her. It hadn’t struck me before, how incredibly strong Abe must’ve been to bend the thick piece of metal. I didn’t hold it in so much for myself as I did for her; I wouldn’t be able to deal with it if any of them came after Delaney.

I took the poker from her hands, feigning bewilderment. “What is this?” The metal felt heavy and exceptionally cold in my hands and I resisted the urge to let it fall to the floor.

“Doesn’t matter, forget about it,” Delaney said with a shrug. She wandered off into the den and I took the poker to the kitchen, dropping it in the trashcan with a loud, metallic bang and went in search of my friend.

“I was thinking,” Delaney called from what I guessed was the full-length mirror in the hall, which happened to be her favorite place in my house, “if it’s not raining like the second flood tomorrow, we should go out to Jekko Beach.”

I rounded the corner and found her admiring herself. If there was ever a fatal flaw, it was Delaney’s obsession with her appearance. She had long, fiery red hair that offset her creamy complexion and swung straight as a pin to her voluptuous waist. She had the hips of a belly dancer and wore a 36D and was convinced she was overweight but she didn’t realize that she was perfectly proportioned. I was jealous of her to a fault.

I leaned against the wall and crossed my arms. “D, quit looking at yourself,” I said tiredly.

“Sorry, can’t help it, darling. You know that. So Jekko, yes or no? I could use some sun.” Delaney held out a pale wrist and examined it under the hall light. We both knew very well that sun was the last thing either of us needed; we burned like paper and always came home complaining.

“Sure,” I said to appease her. Delaney flashed a white smile at me. I couldn’t help but hope that a day on the ocean would be good for me. Would help me forget about Wren.

“Great! It’ll be fun, I promise. The real start to our summer. Now let’s go get our fill of Mr. Gosling for the night,” she said, and headed for the den.

“Wake up you tosser!” Delaney shouted. I could murder her. I yanked my blanket further over my head and rolled away from her loudness, desperately clawing at the shreds of a dream that I couldn’t quite remember. “C’mon,” she said. “We’ve got things to do, Rosie, you bum!”

One of Delaney’s other major downfalls was that she seemed to have a painfully cheery disposition in the mornings. I hated it. Once she’d dumped a pitcher of ice water on me to wake me up for Black Friday shopping at three in the morning and I didn’t speak to her for a week.

“Shut up,” I managed to grumble. She responded by yanking my blanket away and I groaned, covering my face with my hands. “Don’t do this, not today, Delaney.”

I could hear the pout in her voice before she even spoke. “But we’re supposed to go to the beach. You promised.” I did promise but I also didn’t endorse being up at whatever godawful hour of the morning it was. Another groan escaped me.

“What time is it even?”

“Seven. We’ve got to get moving if we’re going to make it before the crowds, Rose, now let’s go!” Delaney yanked at my wrist and nearly pulled me off the couch I’d fallen asleep on. I finally accepted that I wasn’t getting out of this and I got up and rubbed the crusty sleep from my eyes.

I looked at Delaney, who was fully dressed. Fully dressed in beach gear. I could’ve slapped her. “You planned this, didn’t you?” I demanded, suddenly very irritated. Delaney shrugged at me and painted an innocent look on her face.

“Planned what? I was going to wear this today anyway,” she said with a childish glint in her eyes. Eyes that I wanted to claw out at this particular moment.

“Whatever. I’m going to get dressed.”

I trudged out of the room and Delaney called after me, “Be ready in thirty! Wear that maroon bikini with the fringy bit up top, it’ll make your tits look grand!”

Against my intense aversion to Delaney at the moment of deciding, I did wear the maroon bikini, along with a black cover-up and black flip-flops. The dark colors balanced out with my paleness and unlike Delaney I had no intention of getting burnt today. I tied my hair back in a low, sloppy bun and put a maroon sunhat on my head and threw a bottle of sunscreen, a towel, my wallet, and my keys into a tote bag and went back downstairs. She was waiting for me by the door.

“Darling, we’re going to the beach, not a funeral,” she teased.

“Shut up, D.”

“I’m just kidding with you, Rosie. You look beautiful, as usual. You’re beautiful and I’m hot. See the difference?” Delaney smirked. I didn’t know whether to be flattered or insulted.

“Thanks, I guess. Which suit are you wearing anyway?” I went to the kitchen to get bottles of water. If there was one thing I was unwilling to spend money on it was Jekko’s overpriced food and drinks. For good measure I grabbed us both a granola bar. Delaney followed me.

“It’s that tribal print bandeau I bought two weekends ago for losing a pound. I figured now would be as good a time as ever to break it in, right?” I nodded. “Hey, let’s take use your car. I went to my mechanic the other day and he said my engine had a leak or some rubbish like that. I don’t want to risk us getting blown up,” Delaney said as we walked outside into the sun that was, to my surprise, streaming strongly through the oak tree. The tree I’d been hidden behind a little more than twelve hours ago.

I looked around the yard expecting my yard to look different, somehow. It didn’t. I hadn’t forgotten about Wren or his promise and I couldn’t help finding myself glancing over my shoulder every five seconds to see if he’d magically appeared like yesterday. He didn’t.

I squeezed my eyes shut to dispel the thought of him. “Fine, but you’re driving,” I said, tossing the keys underhand to Delaney. She caught them with a fluency that must’ve come from playing ping-pong as religiously as she did and we settled into my car at 7:45 in the morning on our way to a day destined for fun in the sun.