Roses

Chapter 20

Zoey

Four days have passed since Adam showed up at my doorstep and had breakfast with me. And that has now become a daily routine.

He shows up with coffee and eats with me. And it's not like the first day when he only had the drink. Once I figured he was going to come everyday I just started making him a plate too.

Then he drives me to his home where I spend most of my time with his father. But Adam has started staying around the house more, working from home as much as possible. I have no clue what brought the change but I'm not complaining.

And then finally, he drives me back to my home. Always leaving five minutes after I've walked inside. I wonder what he does in that time.

I still haven't had a proper conversation with him about our kiss. At first I kept delaying it because I feared his response, whatever it might have been. Getting his attention while staying oblivious to why I'm getting it seemed much easier.

Then I noticed how he hadn't said anything about that night either. And it made me wonder where we stood in his brain. Did he already see us as a couple?

We did act a lot like a couple, with how much time we spent around each other. But that was all that made us look like it.

We didn't kiss or even touch like we were in a relationship. Hell, we didn't even talk that much. The last conversation we had had been in my kitchen when I told him about my mother's murder. And that hadn't involved many words by him either.

Whatever. If he's not going to say anything, then I won't either.

"So," I look up from the flow chart and find Adam leaning against the doorframe. His father is sleeping and I am sitting cross legged on the floor. "How are things?" He enters the room and I push away everything around me so he can come to sit in front of me.

"Great. He's," I pause to look at his father on the bed and continue, "having his meals on time, interacting... No problems whatsoever."

"Hmm." He nods, his eyes staring into mine. "And you?"

"Me...?" I raise my eyebrows, letting him know I don't follow.

"How are you?" His expression remains the same though his eyes soften a bit.

"I'm fine too," I reply with a small smile but look away. It's not the truth. The killer, Martha's death, the man at Viktor Bruno's party and then everything with Adam... they've all really done a number on my brain and I certainly don't feel fine.

I know he's looking at me. No, not looking. I can feel him studying me. I bet he knows I just lied to him. What is he waiting for?

"What were you doing?" He asks after a minute, changing the subject.

"I was," I trail off as I remember what I was doing. I was going through the details of every murder. Specifically, the injuries found on the bodies. Before Adam walked in, I'd just realized the injuries on the female victims' bodies had been rather..... heinous. Cuts around their wrists and ankles as if barbed wire had been used to tie them up, lighter burns across their breasts and private parts... Just imagining their pain in their last moments sends a chill down my spine.

"Yes?" He brings my thoughts back to our conversation.

"Uh, I was studying the murders." I don't see why I shouldn't tell him the truth.

"Any suspects?" He asks as if he doesn't really care what my answer will be. Or maybe he already knows it.

I shake my head as I watch him reach for the flow chart. When I notice his eyes move across the boxes on it, I have no doubt he sees what I marked. I don't like the way his eyes shine.

"Who do you think it could be?" I ask him to get him to look up. He does.

"Someone who hates everyone," he leans forward to tuck my hair behind my ear and it is both endearing and daunting, "but hates women a little bit more."

I nod at his words, unable to respond in any other way. He's right but the words still scare me. Or maybe it's something else that makes me shift away from him. He notices that but doesn't say anything.

I wonder how long we'll keep up this game of letting unsaid things pool between us. I have a feeling very soon one of us is going to break. But I won't let it be me.

                                                                                 ***

It's five a.m. and I'm under the covers, wide awake. I barely slept for two hours last night and spent the rest of the time tossing and turning. I feel very unsettled. It's like I've been waiting for something ever since I witnessed Martha's murder.

Waiting to find out who the killer is? Waiting to accept what I saw that night and do something about it?

At first, I was only scared to get myself involved in a police case. And then while giving my statement, I started doubting myself; asking if I even saw what I saw.

And to top it all off, my relationship with Adam has.... taken a complicated turn, to say the least.

I exhale loudly, giving up on sleep and get up. I fetch my laptop and resume my writing. Maybe all the restlessness bubbling inside me will find a purpose through my writing.

I settle comfortably ten minutes later, words flowing naturally out of my mind and I finish the first chapter of my book. It fills me with so much excitement, I start with the next one immediately.

I'd given up on writing altogether after my last rejection at the hands of an agent. But restarting my journey reminded me why I decided to write books in the first place: I loved the escape words provided.

I stay at it for another hour before deciding it was enough for one session. I freshen up and get changed into leggings and a T-shirt. Adam's warning made me give up on my evening walks and I'd been planning to switch it back to mornings ever since. The high from my writing made me resolve that it was time.

I get out of my house and start walking towards the park. It's still early and the roads are more or less empty. But it feels safer than nighttime, knowing that soon the streets will be buzzing with activity. Something makes me stop dead in my tracks though. Adam's car.

It's parked outside a bar. I know it closes for just three hours in the night so it's probably open now. Did he come for a drink this early? I didn't know him to be an alcoholic like his father. In fact, I had noticed he only drank when he had to, avoiding it at other times.

I cross the street and walk around the car, hovering outside the bar. But the glass door makes me see he isn't inside. That's when I hear the sound of a scuffle from the side. I walk towards the back alley at the bar's side and peer around the wall.

The sight that greets me instantly reminds me of the night of Martha's murder. I hadn't been wrong.

XXXXXX

Hey, everyone! So I'm back with my ten-chapter check-in...

How is everyone doing? I hope all is great with you and you're having an amazing morning, afternoon or night, depending on when you're reading this ;)

How are you liking Roses so far? Can you guess what's going to happen next?

Anyways, all I'm going to say right now is that there's lots of drama waiting to happen in Zoey's life!

Thank you so much for reading my work. If you like it, please hit that 'vote' button and follow me.