Rivers Of Crimson

1

The first time Valentine Ramirez saw her father shoot someone, she was nine.

From the top of the winding staircase, she could hear muffled sounds from the basement, low gruff voices raised angrily. Val was meant to be in bed, but shouting was not a common occurrence on the Ramirez estate. Valentine was also a very curious child. But what did they say about cats and curiosity?

The steps down to the basement were almost as grand as central staircase but made from stone instead of marble.

Pressing her ear to the keyhole on the deep-set door, Val heard her father's voice.

"Where the fuck is she?" He sounded angry, and far too wrapped up in his business to notice when Val pushed the door open just a crack.

"Answer me!" Her father yelled. Val startled, could this really be the same man that made her hot chocolate when she was sad and plaited her hair gently after her bath?

"Where the fuck is she?" Val watched her dad draw a gun from the holster on his belt and jam it under a man's chin. Val gasped as she heard the click of the hammer being pulled back into place. If he fired that gun, a bullet would go through that man's skull. "Fucking answer me!" He sounded desperate now, as if he were away to start crying. "Where is Charlotte? What did you do to her?" What did her mom have to do with this?

Val moved with her father as he strode out of view. The man he was interrogating was tied to a chair, sweat gleaming on his forehead. And then there was a sharp bang and a metallic scent in the air. The man slumped forward, head lolling into his chest. Val could see the blood blooming on the back of his head, a gunshot wound in the centre of his curly mop of hair.

Horrified, Val reeled backwards, feeling sick. This was not something she was meant to see.

Suddenly, her father was in front of her, a spattering of blood darkening his bronzed skin, ice blue eyes emotionless. Without a word, he gripped the door with a bloody hand and shut it in her face.

But right now, his arm was lovingly drapped over her shoulder as they stood and looked at the jagged hills in the distance. Truth be told, Ivan Ramirez was only here because his only daughter was one strike away from being expelled from the prestigious ranks of Dunkeld College. Val was on two strikes, one more, and she was out. Strike one was for smoking weed, and strike two was for being caught making out with a girl in the Common Room after hours. Of all the things Val's father could be hung up upon, it was her being out after hours that bothered him the most.

"Miss Ramirez," a male voice behind them. Val watched as her father's hand dropped immediately to the gun in his waistband.

"Dean Aaldenburg," Val responded dryly. "How was your summer?" She flashed a fake smile.

Val's dad relaxed beside her, hand easing off his gun. "I best be going, Val." Her father nodded stifly at the dean, icy blue eyes skating over Aaldenburg's face.

"I think it's better if you come in, Mr Ramirez."

Did Aaldenburg know that was her mother's last name? That it hurt her dad every time he heard it because it reminded him of his own guilt.

Aaldenburg led them both through the winding maze of mahogany panelled hallways and up a set of vast marble stairs. Val knew this climb well. She knew what awaited her at the top of the fourth set of stairs.

Cool air flooded the fourth floor office that Aaldenburg made his home. In the large room, there was a long glass desk on which there was a single file.

It read: Valentine Ramirez, 1995-1998

Val invited herself to sit down in the chair opposite Dean Aaldenburg's plush leather arm chair. Her father stood, suit still immaculate, with a stern look on his face. Aaldenburg took a moment, clearing his throat before opening her file.

"Mr Ramirez," he said, his voice gravely. "I would like to make certain you are aware that your daughter, Valentine, is on her second strike." He took a breath to continue, but her father stepped in.

"One more, and she's out. You are telling me things I already know." Val could pick up nothing from his tone. "Now, is that all? I have pressing business to attend to."

"I would like to make you aware of the severity of her last strike." Aaldenburg reinstated. "It is something for a student here to earn a second strike. It is almost unheard of from a student bringing a strike upon another."

"You're acting like I raped her!" Val stuttered. "You're acting like she wasn't kissing me back."

Her comments were ignored by Aaldenburg, who promptly continued. "And deviant actions such as Valentine's last strike are not appreciated at this school and should not happen again."

"I don't see the problem, sir." Her father said finally, stroking his goatee. "My daughter has done nothing wrong."

The thing Val had learnt about her father was if she was right, he would back her to the end of the world. If she was wrong, he would make sure she knew it.

"Then I must reinforce the knowledge that your daughter having forced upon someone a strike that could get them expelled, and in such a manner as she did, is unforgivable."

Another thing worth note about Val's father was that he knew what battles to fight and which to give up.

Val sincerely hoped this was not one he would give up.

"Then what do you suggest?"

Val couldn't quite believe what she was hearing. Would her father not back her in this? Even when she wasn't at fault.

"We must have time to deliberate a punishment equal to such actions." Dean Aaldenburg said, noncommittal rife in his tone.

"Then do what you must." Her father replied, striding out of the office.

Val just sat there in shock. Not quite sure what she was meant to say now. All she could do was stare at the dark oak doors her father had just gone through.