The Blossom of Rose

8 • Trustworthy

"Isn't this that journalist from Entertainment Weekly?" Calla asks when I walk into the sitting room. My eyes look over to the television.

"...journalist found decapitated at around the early hours of the morning in his apartment," the news anchor reports from outside the apartment, "pictures of his gruesome murder were scattered around his mutilated body, his camera was smashed to pieces and his work was lit to flames."

A second later a picture of the victim flashes on the screen. Ricky Green. My eyes widen in horror and I get a flashback from last night that I didn't remember until now.

"One of the journalists. He goes I was very skinny and didn't meet the societal norm because I was too flat." I mumble into his chest, the exhaustion taking over me.

He stills. "What was his name?"

"Ricky something. Green, I think." My eyes close at his warm scent. Some time passes in silence as I try to lull myself to sleep. He must think I've fallen asleep because he gently unwraps my arms from him and lays me on the pillow before he stands.

When I'm tired, it's like I'm drunk. I say things that I shouldn't and I do not remember them.

Luca killed him, because of me. That man is dead because of me. His limbs are detached from his body!

When I pull out my phone, my thumb hesitates over his name. What am I even going to say? He won't give me a proper answer back. Sighing, I pocket my phone.

My mind drifts back to my original mission. "Do you know where Dante is?"

"Downstairs gym." She shrugs and I make my way there. I want to clear the air between us. I didn't mean to shout at him yesterday and my regret is gnawing at me.

"Rose," Marcus calls and I stop so he can catch up to me. There's a folder in his hand on a page portraying a cabin. "We can set up base at your cabin down at Whitethorn Forest. It has a beach nearby too."

As I skim through the images of the rustic cabin, I scrunch my eyebrows at him, "I own this?"

He nods, "your mother had it written in her will and said you can inherit it when you turn 21."

I never was able to meet with her lawyer because I was in hiding so they just put everything under my name. My mother gave me a lot of gifts, including this necklace. For some reason, I always saw them as apology gifts for letting my dad beat me since she never did anything to stop it. She was still your mother.

"Yeah, that's perfect. Let them know," I tell him, handing him back the file.

As Calla said, I found Dante in the basement. Furiously, he pounds the punching bag with his fist as if it was the cause of all of his problems. He pauses and rests his forehead on the bag.

You shouldn't have shouted at him like that. As you said, he's only 18. There's a weight that sits in my chest.

"I'm sorry." He says. "I know you're pissed off because I threw everything on you the second you stepped back into this country. And I'm sorry. I fucked up."

Dante doesn't turn to face me, just clenches his fists further.

"I know what you were doing in Louisiana." This time, he does turn but he doesn't meet my eyes. It's almost as if he's ashamed to even look at me.

"I told you. I forgive her, Dante. You didn't have to hide it from me," I tell him. His ex was mental. She tried to steal a lot of money from me and while Samuel and I were dating, she rubbed off on him. When she was only 12! But that's in the past.