Chasing Red: Chapter 30
I should have kissed her goodbye before I left.
This was not good. This was not how I’d imagined my night would go. Damn.
I just wanted to spend the night with Red. Alone. Watch one of those scary movies on “our” list. Order pizza. Kiss her, touch her if she’d let me again. I couldn’t get enough of her.
I wondered if she was one of those girls who covered their eyes and squealed while watching horror movies. Or did she stay silent, staring at the screen unblinkingly. Whatever her reaction was, I wouldn’t be finding out tonight.
I glanced at Beatrice-Rose, who stared out the passenger window silently, a small smile on her lips. “Are you feeling better?”
She smiled at me. “Yes, Cal. You’re here now. I’m feeling much better, thank you.”
I frowned. Something in her words didn’t sit well with me. Maybe when she said, You’re here now.
“I miss you,” she murmured.
I felt uncomfortable. I wasn’t sure if I should tell her to stop talking to me that way. If some other guy was talking to Red like this, I would go ballistic.
“I miss my best friend,” she clarified.
I wasn’t even aware how hard I was gripping the wheel until I relaxed my hands. Yeah, she thought of me as her best friend—though I wasn’t sure how well she understood the new dynamic in our relationship. She had always been possessive of me.
Girls came and went in my life, but Beatrice-Rose was a constant. She had learned to depend on that. In a way, that was my fault. I had let her depend on me. It became a habit for her. And for me.
But it was different now. I had not anticipated Red coming into my life. She’d blindsided me, and now all I wanted was her.
I could say that Beatrice-Rose was the first girl who fascinated me. As kids, we were forced to spend time together in the playroom. Sleeping Beauty was her favorite movie. I thought it was because she was blond and because of the similarities in their names—Briar Rose to her Beatrice-Rose.
I could not count how many times I had watched that damn movie with her. I’d bet my left nut I could still recite the lines, even in my sleep. Not that I would tell anybody, obviously.
It didn’t escape my young mind’s notice that Sleeping Beauty was vulnerable, fragile. The type of girl who could draw out the protective instinct with just the way she looked, the way she spoke. Like a meek lamb, a little kitten. And after you had slain her dragon, she would gaze at you and make you feel like a hero.
In a lot of ways, Beatrice-Rose reminded me of Sleeping Beauty. She always came to me for protection, for safety, which made me feel like a hero. It made me feel strong. It might have been caveman thinking, but sometimes it’s really good to feel like a hero.
Beatrice-Rose was very, very good for my ego.
Reflecting on it, I realized those were the types of girls I always went for. Girls who needed saving, who needed protection, who made me feel needed. This desire to feel needed might have come from my childhood when no one needed or wanted me, but that didn’t really matter in the end, did it? Because now I felt ashamed, embarrassed, stripped. It seemed so shallow to date those girls just because they fed my ego.
Maybe that was how Red had captured my attention. She was different from all the girls I knew. She seemed fearless and strong, then seemed so helpless, so vulnerable when I found her at the parking lot. I’d wanted to save her. But she’d proved me wrong.
Because in the end, she was the one who saved me.
Red made me bare my soul, made me aware of what was lacking in my life and what I wanted to be. She made me want to do more, be more. Be a better person.
Yellow—that damn nickname. When I saw Red’s face after Beatrice-Rose told her that, my first thought was shit. She might think that calling her Red wasn’t anything special. When she was the most special person in my life.
It was an old habit, naming people after colors that reminded me of them. What Red didn’t know was that I’d stopped doing that when I turned eight. She’d just brought it out of me that night when I met her.
That night.
She’d danced on that floor like she owned it, with her killer red dress, red lips, and sheer presence. I had to stop and stare. It felt like a siren’s call. I was unable to look away for fear I would miss something important. That I would lose a chance I could never get back again.
It wasn’t just lust. It was a pull I couldn’t explain.
And when she approached me, kicked my ass, and rejected me…I knew. She was red. My Red. She was fire, passion, strength…
Love.
I love her.
I hadn’t told her yet, because I was waiting for the right moment. I knew she loved me. I just didn’t know if she was ready to admit it to herself yet.
“…so there you go. Right, Cal?”
I blinked. What? I’d missed everything Beatrice-Rose had just said. I grunted, letting her interpret that for herself. I changed the subject quickly so she wouldn’t notice I hadn’t been listening for the last ten minutes.
“I thought you got over your panic attacks,” I said. “What happened in my apartment?”
I heard her sharp intake of breath. “They came back after Dad got sick.”
“Aw, B.”
She sniffed. “It’s gotten really bad, Cal. Sometimes he thinks I’m grandma or his sister. Sometimes he doesn’t know me at all. I can’t take it. I can’t.”
I reached for her uninjured hand, offering her comfort. “I’m sorry.”
She nodded, tightly holding my hand in hers. I squeezed her hand again and let go.
I felt horrible for her. She’d started getting panic attacks in high school. It wasn’t easy for her. And for some reason, I was the only one who calmed her down.
I remembered one time when I was in the middle of a heavy make-out session with a senior named Sakura, remembered how excited I was because I had been pursuing her for quite some time and she was playing hard to get.
That night when she finally gave in, Beatrice-Rose had phoned me in a panic, saying she couldn’t breathe. That freaked me the hell out. I left Sakura and went to find Beatrice-Rose. It took fifteen minutes to calm her down and help her breathe properly again. Since then, she phoned me every time she had an attack, and I was always there.
“It’s all right,” Beatrice-Rose said now. “Like I said, you’re here now. Everything feels better.”
I parked my car in their circular driveway. “I can’t stay. I have to go home to Red.”
“Please, Cal. Stay.” Her blue eyes were wide and pleading. “Please.”
She rested her hand on my thigh, making me squirm. She removed it.
I let out a sigh. “Okay,” I relented, thinking of the crap she must be dealing with at home. The least I could do was lend her a little support. “Half an hour.”
She pouted. “Three hours.”
“Forty-five minutes.”
She shook her head. “Two hours.”
“An hour.”
“Deal!” She grinned at me like the cat that ate the canary—like she’d wanted an hour all along. I should have known. I always seemed to underestimate her.
“I feel tired, Cal. But I’m hungry. Don’t start the timer until after we’re done eating. Okay?”
“Beatrice-Rose,” I warned.
“Caleb.” She giggled.
I knew Red was going to wait up for me. I had to phone her, let her know. When I reached for my phone, I panicked. It wasn’t in my pocket. Did I forget to bring it? Dammit.
“I forgot my phone. Can I borrow yours? I need to call Red and tell her I’m going to be an hour late.”
She pouted again. “My battery’s almost dead. I need to charge it first.”
Nodding, I got out of the car and opened the door for her.
Their house was a long, modern, rectangular building, with three floors of clear glass walls that reminded me of an aquarium. I could see everything in their house from where I was standing. Granted, they had a gate and a long driveway, so the house wasn’t necessarily exposed to the streets.
All I could think was that they couldn’t walk around naked or scratch their asses whenever they wanted to. I would rather live in a mud hut than expose myself that way.
The inside of the house was pretty much the same as the outside. Expensive antiques, classy furniture, paintings. It was elegant, beautiful…and cold. It lacked the warmth of a home. My eyes locked on the naked Greek god statue in the foyer. That was new. I had no problems with statues, but this one was ugly as sin. What the hell was the artist thinking? Were those horns sticking out of his—
“Good evening.”
It was their butler, Higgins. He’d been working for them for as long as I could remember. He always seemed to magically appear whenever there were visitors.
“Higgins! How’s it going, bud?”
“I’m well, thank you for asking, sir. Yourself?”
“Caleb, my dear!”
Katherine-Rose, Beatrice-Rose’s mom, descended the stairs like a queen in a purple dress. She always loved dramatic entrances. I didn’t miss the glass in her hand—brandy, probably. She had grown fond of drinking since her husband’s health started declining.
She kissed my cheek as soon as she reached me. I tried not to recoil when I smelled the alcohol on her breath.
“It seems that every time I see you, Caleb, my dear, you grow taller. And more handsome each day.”
“Any taller, and he’d hit the ceiling.”
“Beatrice-Rose! Mind your manners, please!” Katherine-Rose glared at her daughter, disapproval dripping in her voice. “How juvenile.”
I could feel Beatrice-Rose shrinking beside me. She reached for my hand, seeking comfort.
“Definitely not. I find her quite charming. After all, where else would she get it but from you?” I said easily, wanting to diffuse the tension in the air.
Katherine-Rose’s eyes widened with pleasure, and she let out a trilling laugh. “Oh, you handsome devil—”
A loud wail cut her off. “No! Thief! Get away! She stole my money! Help! Help!”
I spun around at the commotion behind us. My jaw dropped as I took in Liam’s decimated form standing in the hallway. He looked terrible. His clothes and hair, always immaculate, were in disarray. His cheeks were sunken, the sharp bones of his face in stark relief against pale, taut skin.
“Please, let’s go back to your room, Liam,” the nurse pleaded.
“Get away from me!” he shouted, the look in his eyes reminding me of a trapped animal.
“Dad!”
Liam’s eyes focused on Beatrice-Rose and narrowed infinitesimally. Suspiciously. “Who are you?” he hissed. “What are you doing in my house?”
“Dad,” Beatrice-Rose choked out.
“Who the hell are you? There are strangers in my house! Someone call the police!”
When the nurse reached for Liam’s arm, he panicked, shoving her away from him.
“Get him away from here!” Katherine-Rose snapped. “I’m paying you to take care of him! Oh God!” Her hands shook as she brought her glass to her lips and took a long drink. She hurried away without saying goodbye.
Beatrice-Rose stared as the nurse struggled to take her screaming father back to his room.
“Haldol,” Beatrice-Rose whispered. “They give him Haldol to calm him down. I think. Or maybe that’s changed. I don’t know…” She trailed off into unintelligible muttering. And then slowly, she slumped to the floor, weeping, dejected.
“B.” I lifted her to her feet, and she leaned heavily on me, burrowing her face in my shirt, still weeping.
I took her to her room and helped her get into her bed. Picking up a chair from her sitting area, I carried it over and placed it beside her bed. I sat.
“He doesn’t know who I am anymore, Cal.” She curled herself into a ball but had stopped crying. “Cal, don’t go.”
I felt a headache coming on. Red was waiting for me, and I hadn’t even phoned her yet. But I couldn’t possibly leave Beatrice-Rose in this state.
“I need you,” she begged. “Please.”
“All right. Let me phone Red first. Where’s your phone?”
She pursed her lips. “In my purse.”
I got up, plugged it in the charger, and phoned Red. When she didn’t answer, I called my apartment. No answer. I tried again. No answer.
“She’s not answering. She must be in the shower,” I said, returning to my seat. “I’ll try again in five minutes.”
“Where did you meet her?” Beatrice-Rose asked after a moment.
“Red?” I leaned back comfortably in my chair, smiling at the thought of her. “At a club.”
“Oh.” She paused. “How long have you known her, Cal?”
“A few months.”
“That’s not very long.”
I shrugged. “Long enough.” It didn’t matter to me if I’d known her for a day, an hour, or only a moment. I was hers.
“Will you stay with me tonight?”
“Until you fall asleep,” I replied.
“No, Cal.” She held her hand out. “Stay with me.”
She took my hand in hers, squeezing. I squeezed back but didn’t answer.
“Tell me about her.”
Thinking about Red made me feel good. “She’s…different. Tough, very independent, a good heart. Difficult sometimes,” I added, grinning.
“You say that as though it’s a good thing.”
“I love it when she gives me a hard time.”
Silence.
“Where does she live? Is she in college?”
I ignored her first question because I was sure Red wouldn’t appreciate me telling anyone she lived with me. “She attends the same college. Lost both her parents as far as I know. She didn’t grow up as privileged as us, had to work hard for everything.”
“Being able to afford anything doesn’t mean things are easy, Cal. You of all people should know that.”
I looked around me, noting that her room looked just like the rest of the house—not a thing out of place. She didn’t even have books on her night table like Red did. Or a colorful blanket that showed her personality. The colors in her room were different shades of beige. I found it…boring. I didn’t before. Since Red, I needed color. Color was interesting. It gave life.
Everything in Beatrice-Rose’s room looked like it was ready for a photo shoot. Yes, she and I did have the luxury to buy anything we wanted. That didn’t guarantee happiness, but not having to worry about money sure helped a lot.
“You know it’s still easier than for most people,” I said. “Red had a rough childhood.”
“Does she hate me?”
My mouth opened in shock. “What?” Why would she ask that?
“She seemed unfriendly. She gave me the fork from her mouth, Cal. How rude was that? She hates me.”
I laughed. “That was your fault for dropping that bomb about introducing her to my mom. Way to beat me to it. I was waiting for the right time to ask her.”
She curled her small mouth into a snarl. “She knocked my glass out of my hand on purpose. I just think—”
Irritation filled me, and I cut her off. “She’s not like that. Why would you say that?”
“I’m just saying, Cal. What do you really know about her?”
Now I was getting angry. “Don’t be ridiculous.” I stood up, ready to leave. “I don’t want to hear about this anymore.”
“I’m sorry,” she apologized, sitting up on the bed. She grabbed my arm. “You know how protective of you I can get… Cal, don’t be upset. I don’t think I can take more tonight.”
My anger deflated. I felt like a douche, adding to her problems. I blew out a breath and sat back down.
“Can you lie down beside me?” she asked quietly, tucking her hair behind her ear. She looked like a defenseless kitten.
“I can’t do that anymore.”
She frowned. “Why not?”
I raised my eyebrows.
“You didn’t have a problem with it before. It’s not like we’re going to have sex. We grew up together. We’re best friends. I just need you. Like old times.”
“I told you this time it’s different.”
She fell silent, lowering her head and clutching the pendant I had given to her so long ago. I couldn’t believe she still had it. “She’s taking you away from me.”
“Don’t be dramatic.”
“Just for a few minutes,” she begged. “Until I fall asleep. You can leave once I do.”
I hesitated. It didn’t feel right.
“You know it’ll help me fall asleep, Cal. I don’t want to take more pills to help me sleep. Please.”
She was taking sleeping pills again? Or did she mean antidepressants? She took them before, a long time ago.
“Cal, I want to stop thinking about my dad tonight. He can’t even remember me anymore. You don’t know what it feels like. It hurts so much.”
I sighed. “All right. But just for a few minutes. Then I have to go.”
She scooted back to make room and patted the spot beside her, smiling innocently.
I stretched out beside her, and it immediately felt wrong. But I didn’t want her to take any more pills or worry about her dad. It seemed so inconsequential to give her this simple thing. Besides, we both knew she’d be out like a light in a few minutes once I lay down beside her. The faster she fell asleep, the faster I could get back to Red. Beatrice-Rose snuggled closer to me, her arms wrapped around my torso, resting her head on my chest.
I’d never had a problem with this before. Why did it feel wrong this time?
I needed to call Red again, but I didn’t want to get up right away and disturb Beatrice-Rose. I listened to her breathing, waiting for her to fall asleep. Suddenly my eyes felt heavy, my body exhausted. I hadn’t slept properly since the party at Justin’s house, and this bed felt really comfortable…
I need to call Red was my last thought before I fell asleep.
* * *
Red was so soft, like silk in my hands. Her kisses drugged me, made me feel high, made me crave more. I kissed her back as hard as she was kissing me. I moaned, wanting more of her touch. But something was not right. She tasted different.
Then she reached for my jeans…
“Cal.”
Red never called me Cal. My eyes snapped open.
“What the fuck!”
Beatrice-Rose was on top of me. I pushed her away and jumped out of bed. My eyes widened in horror as I realized she didn’t have her shirt on. What the fuck. I was dreaming of Red and…
God.
“I have to go.”
“Cal—”
“I was dreaming of her, goddamn it.”
She reached for the blanket, covering herself with it.
“I don’t cheat,” I snapped. “You know the rules.”
“Cal, I’m sorry. Please, don’t go. I just need… Please.”
I rubbed my hands over my face. “This can’t happen again. I’m sorry. This was my fault.”
I didn’t know what time it was, didn’t care. I had to get the fuck out of here. I had to get home to Red.
Red…
My God.
What have I done?