ROSE
Is it Wednesday? I study the calendar on the wall from the big black X over the last date that Kai showed up here. The same time every week, but now it’s past the new X on the calendar and he didn’t come. No one did except the cleaning lady, Parker, who is due on the red X days. Today is a red X day, which means it would be Wednesday.
I scratch my scalp and then gather my dirty hair up into a messy bun. It’s long and ridiculous, but there’s no one to cut it, so I just wash it when I think about it and leave it up the rest of the time.
It’s not like there’s anyone to see me or notice the fact that my blonde hair, once stained red from my own blood for weeks, isn’t clean or styled properly. Hell, I basically live in the oversized sweats Kai gave me when he brought me here months ago. They smelled like him before. Now, not so much.
I stare at the red X again and check the clock on the small stove. The green numbers seem to stare back at me. Okay, maybe it’s time to take my meds.
The box is on the counter. For weeks, Kai had to portion them out for me one at a time, but now, I do it myself. If anything, it gives me something to do. While I’m glad for my safety and the care Kai gives to my health, I’m so fucking bored.
Of course, there’s a big-screen TV in the living room and one entire room jam-packed with books, but that doesn’t mean I don’t get tired of being alone. Though the thought of seeing other people makes my fingers go numb, and panic grips my chest tight.
I stare at the little entryway that leads to the door as if I continue to face off with it, maybe someone will magically show up and whisk me away. New surroundings might be nice—no people but a different space. Something new to look at. Even on the days Kai shows up, I get nervous and sweaty and cannot think or speak straight. Tongue-tied by a man. How far I’ve fallen in a few short months.
A few short months that feel like years and years. I feel so much older than my twenty-three years. I guess an attempted murder will do that to a girl.
I flip the top of the pill sorter with a pop and scoop out a quarter’s worth of various pharmaceuticals. Kai always fills my prescriptions for me, so I don’t know if any of this is even legal. I suppose with him, it doesn’t matter.
I grab the water bottle near the sink and swig back the pills, taking a big gulp to get them all down. Then I rinse the rancid plastic aftertaste and replace the water bottle.
Yeah…still fucking bored.
I’m sure Parker will be here soon, but she refuses to speak to me. The rare occasion she talks to me is only to ask my preference for cleaning or laundry. All topics I have zero opinion on. Not anymore, at least.
The lock rattles on the door, and keys clatter against the solid steel. I freeze. My heart ping pongs up my throat, sticking tight.
Parker comes in and resets the long line of high-end locks down the door. It takes me a second to slowly unclench my muscles, relaxing inch by inch as my online therapist has walked me through over and over.
Parker is a small woman. She must be in her forties, but her black hair has only a few streaks of gray. She’s short, but most women are compared to my five-foot-eight height. Shorter even than my cousin, Valentina, who is tiny. She gives me a quick nod, sets the bag of groceries on the counter, and heads toward the bedrooms in the back. She always starts back to front, working her way toward the door when she cleans.
I slide off the wooden stool and start unpacking the groceries. It’s the least I can do since she keeps me from having to scrub my own toilet.
Since I’m the only person who lives here, the groceries are minimal. Just enough to get me from today until Parker returns the following week. Some produce, noodles, and simple basics I can cook or eat raw, depending on my mood.
After I fold up her reusable tote and place it by the door for her to take home, it occurs to me she might know why Kai didn’t come to the apartment this week. He is her boss, but then again, I’m his…I don’t know what, really…so someone should have said something to me anyway. Changes in the routine make me nervous and twitchy. Two new sides of me have emerged since my attack. Two new sides of myself that I hate.
It takes me a second to rally my courage and head around the corner to find Parker. She’s throwing my laundry in the washer when I spot her and hover nearby. She acknowledges me with a quick flick of her eye but says nothing to encourage me to come closer.
“Um…Parker…excuse me,” I try.
She drops her hands and stares at me head-on. Hard enough it makes me want to take a step back and retreat from the intensity of her gaze. “Yes, Miss Smith.”
Of course, she thinks my name is Jane Smith. You’d think someone as smart as Kai would come up with a better cover name. But I doubt Parker needs anything more involved since she doesn’t use my name more than once a month.
According to a passing comment from Parker when she first started cleaning here, Kai is Mr. Smith, my brother. “Have you heard from Mr. Smith recently?”
Her honey-brown eyes narrow on me. “Mr. Smith? No, only for payment and grocery lists. Nothing more.”
She turns back to the laundry like that’s the end of the discussion, but it wasn’t much of an answer at all. It tells me absolutely nothing. And I’m getting so tired of people telling me nothing.
I follow her, stomping my feet, feeling childish. It doesn’t matter, though, because no one is here to witness this except her, and she’s made it very clear that she won’t be engaging me in a fight.
She starts making the bed as if I haven’t stormed around her and now stand on the other side of the bed, glaring her way. “Excuse me…” I try.
As I expect, she ignores me. It’s fine. She usually does, so I’ve stopped trying to engage her, but Kai has never failed to show up before either, so maybe we all need to let our little oddities fly out the window.
“Excuse me,” I prompt again.