The Blue Rose

13. Serena

THIRTEEN

SERENA

I wake up to an empty bed, Aster nowhere in sight. The warmth that his body gave me, now feels cold. Did he leave after I fell asleep? Did he fall asleep with me? I enjoyed having him next to me, his arms wrapped around me felt safe, he felt like home. A feeling I haven’t felt since my mom was alive. A feeling I want to feel again.

Hoping he left after I fell asleep, I grab my phone to see if he texted me anything. When I look I see that I do have a message from Aster, I bite my lip to stop the giggle threatening to burst out of me.

Aster

Had a great night, until next time, little lamb

I smile, the soreness I feel anytime I move, being a happy reminder.

Serena

Me too.

Placing my phone on the nightstand, I stare at the blades spinning around and around.

We had a great time last night, learning a lot about one another, but I still want to know more. I don't even know how old he is yet.

Is that even important?

Of course it is, I can’t be dating someone twenty years older than me. That’d be like dating my dad, and the thought alone makes me gag. If he is way older than me; since I’ve already slept with him and started to catch feelings, I wouldn’t mind as much. Plus once I know his age, I’ll tell him mine. I think we’re close, at least he looks to be around my age. When was he born? I wonder if his personality lines up with his zodiac sign. I hope our signs are compatible. Given last night I’d say we absolutely are.

My hands lay across my stomach as I wonder why he changed his mind about going to his place, why he decided to take me home. I was pissed and hurt at first, then he made it up to me, with his dick. I was not expecting that monster cock to be attached to him. I have to admit it felt amazing, and we fit perfectly together.

Thinking back on our conversation, my stomach drops, as a wave of nausea crashes over me. The realization of when he decided to take me home, when he went quiet and changed his mind, right after I asked for his address. I did joke about him being a serial killer, but there’s no way. My joke must’ve upset him, and that’s why he changed his mind.

I was too upset in the moment to even think about his reason, I was too hurt that he rejected me, changing his mind so quickly after agreeing in the first place. When we got to my house, I was sure he was going to leave, but he didn’t. After I walked into the house and he didn’t follow, I wanted to scream, cry, break things. Then the banging started happening and my heart started racing, and when he pushed his way in, I let him.

I was still pissed, trying to get him to leave, but hoping he would stay. Instead he claimed me and consequences be damned, I reveled in every moment.

What was I thinking? I wasn't, and that was the problem. I wasn’t thinking with my head, my vagina was running the show, and fuck I don’t regret it.

Brushing off my fears as nothing more than self doubt at waking up alone, I begrudgingly get out of bed and head to the bathroom to shower and start my day.

After I get out of the shower, I swipe my hand over the steam in the mirror and my eyebrows raise at the damage on my neck. Erasing the fog, craning my neck, I push my hair back to see all the bruises not only from his mouth, but the mark his fingerprints left behind. Luckily, I’m not planning on seeing anyone in the near future or I’d need a lot of makeup to cover those up.

I put my overalls on and head to my art room, eager to start a personal piece for the first time.

Dipping my brush in the teal paint, trying to capture his eyes perfectly. There is something about his eyes. They’re guarded and when you look into them, you know he’s hiding something. We all have our skeletons in the closet, but I so badly want to know his.

I sit back and stare into the eyes I’ve captured with photo-like precision and smile.

How did a man who looks like this choose to be with a girl like me? He could have any girl he wanted, and he chose me. I’m not ugly by any means; no, I am rather beautiful. I know I’m no model, but both fireworks and flowers are beautiful despite looking nothing alike. I’m Aster’s firework.

With the eyes finished, and knowing I have a list of clients waiting for their art, I stare at his portrait for a few moments more. Then, get up to put it with my secret paintings.

For some reason I feel like this belongs with them, and I don’t want anyone, especially him, knowing I’m painting him. I’ve never felt so compelled to paint a man I was seeing, the way he looks at me, the way his eyes hide his secrets, I needed to get them onto my canvas. Capturing his photo would be creepy without permission, but painting it, knowing he won’t know or needing his permission, isn’t as creepy. Who am I kidding? I’ve gone full on stalker for this man.

I hear my phone ring and grab it off the windowsill by my easel, seeing it’s an unknown number. I don’t usually answer unknown numbers, but this one has called me twice. I was so lost in the portrait of Aster I didn’t hear it ring the first time.

Thinking better of myself I answer, “Hello?”

The voice on the other end is silent for a beat and then responds, “Serena?”

“Yes, this is her,” I say hesitantly. “May I ask who is calling?”

“Serena, it's me, your father.”

My hand tightens around the phone, and my head starts spinning. The last time I saw him was when he was driving away after our screaming match in his car. What does he want? I’ve been ignoring him for a reason. I have nothing to say to him. If he wants a relationship with me, he needs to apologize, and accept all of me, not just the pieces he approves of.

“Serena?” he says again, worried I hung up on him and cleared his throat to gather my attention.

“What do you want? How did you get my number?” I say dropping my voice and lacing it with annoyance.

“You haven’t been answering my emails, and I needed a way to contact you.”

“You didn’t answer my question, how did you get my number?”

After my mom passed away, our relationship turned sour fast. He started treating me differently, walking on eggshells around me, and not to mention, seeing another woman. I lost all contact with him, but he found my email, trying to reconnect. The hurt and pain I felt at his betrayal to my mother, his wife, hurt too much so I ignored his attempts.

Years passed and after my anger subsided some, he reached out again, and I told him about my life. I did miss my dad, no matter how upset I was with him and the whole situation, he was still my father. He seemed to be nicer, but then started insulting my way of living by saying he could get me a job at his company, I could make real money.

Anger coursed through me again, he tried to apologize but the match was lit. I agreed for him to come see me, and when everything happened, the fuse was blown.

“I have my ways.”

“Meaning you throw money at something to get what you want, like always?”

“Serena, I didn't call to argue,” he says in an exasperated voice. “I want a fresh start with you. I want to apologize for how last time went, and I want to see you.”

Tears start to threaten, and my voice cracks “Why?”

“Sharon thinks-”

There it is , this wasn’t his idea, it was this Sharon's. Fuck. That. They can both kick rocks.

“Oh, so you don’t actually care, Sharon does. Who is she, Dad? Another one of your whores?”

“See, I told you this was a bad idea, she wants nothing to do with me.” He says to someone in the background

A sickly sweet southern voice responds, “She’s your daughter, Thomas, maybe you should tell her the truth. I want her at our wedding. I would like to meet my future daughter-in-law.”

My dads tone is curt and serious, “She can never know the truth.”

My stomach starts to gurgle and I feel like I’m about to be sick. What truth are they talking about? I start to lose my balance, my phone slipping from my hand. The last thing I remember is my dad’s voice screaming my name before everything goes black.

“Serena!”

I feel strong hands gripping me by the shoulders as a voice that makes my heart pound in my chest yells my name. What’s going on? I open my eyes slowly, the light stinging them, so I slam them shut with a groan. My head hurts… Did I hit it?

“Serena!” I hear the voice scream in a panicked tone.

“Dad?” My eyes flutter again.

I feel myself being guided into a sitting position, a hand caressing the back of my head, causing me to flinch.

“No, little lamb, not your dad.”

My eyes flutter open at the realization that the person shouting my name, the same person holding me, is Aster. When did he get here? How did he get inside?

“Aster?” I say weakly

“Yes, little lamb, I’m here. You fell and hit your head. You're okay but there is going to be a nasty bump.”

He wraps his arms around me and I touch the back of my head, wincing.

He grabs my hand and chuckles, “Yeah, that’s the spot, how about we try not to touch it. Do you think you can stand up?”

Nodding weakly, I go to stand up, arm over his shoulder, and legs shaking. Aster’s taller than me by at least a foot so he has to bend down to walk me over to my stool to sit down. I giggle at how awkward he looks.

He slowly lowers me to the stool, still holding my waist just in case I fall.

He brushes the hair out of my face, and I lean into his touch. “Do you want to stay here or go sit somewhere more comfortable?”

“My room, please.”

He lifts me up, this time bridal style. As we’re walking to my room, someone bangs hard on my front door, startling both me and Aster.

We look at each other, the banging continues, more frantic than before, faint yelling floating through the door. “This is the police, open up!”

Aster’s grip on me tightens and I feel his body stiffen, freezing him in place. Something is off, he doesn’t even hear me when I whisper, “Aster, the door.” I pull on his shirt breaking whatever trance he was in and he makes his way to the front door, still carrying me, fingers digging into me with every step closer to the door.

He goes to open the door and the police are startled to find him holding me.

An older cop with a mustache that fills his face, says, “We got a call saying a father was on the phone with his daughter when he heard a thud, then silence. He thought something happened, so we came to check to make sure everything was okay.”

The cops are staring at Aster, intimidated and on guard. The younger cop looks at how protectively Aster is holding me, and Aster is staring daggers at them both. The amount of hatred I feel coming from Aster, surprises me. To break the tension, I tap Aster’s arm and tell him to let me down. I make a show of kissing his cheek to thank him and turn back to the authorities. “I’m fine, I just fell. Luckily, Aster was here to help me.”

Mustache says, “Regardless, we are going to need to write a report. Mind if we come in?”

I nod, motioning for them both to come in, and lead them to my dining room, Aster holding my hand for dear life the whole time.

If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was scared. Aster isn’t scared of anything though. So why are cops in my home, checking on me, making him come undone?

I sit at the head of the table, Aster on my left, Mustache to my right, and the younger one behind him.

The older cop gets out his notebook and pen, looking at me with concern shining in his gaze. “Alright, tell me what happened.”

I glance at the younger cop, avoiding the watchful eyes of Mustache. He’s short and lean, with a chip on his shoulder as he waits for a chance to prove himself, with black hair and blue eyes. He has some stubble growing back, making him look younger than he is, and his eyes are glued to Aster. On guard, but also with a look of recognition and opportunity, like he’s trying to figure out how he knows him.

The way he is studying Aster makes me tighten my hold around his hand. My eyes lower and I want to tell him to back off, but the fear of the consequences has my lips shut and my face trying to relay my message.

The younger cop addresses Aster, cutting off Mustache with a youthful giddiness. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

I feel a slight shift in Aster, his hand gripping my hand with a bone breaking force. He looks at the cop, dead in the face, and says “No.” his voice stern and ending any conversation before it begins.

“Are you sure? I swear you look familiar.”

“Jason!” Mustache snaps to the younger cop. “He said you didn’t. Now, don’t interrupt me again.” He turns his attention back to me, “Back to you, tell me what happened.”

Grateful for his interruption, I answer. “I was on the phone with my father, and I heard a conversation between him and someone else. What was said shocked me and made me faint.”

He’s scribbling on his notepad, humming to himself. “What was said that made you faint?”

“He was getting remarried.” The truth is worse, if I tell him it was because of a secret, I myself didn’t know, they would ask more questions I couldn't answer. I want to get them out of here as fast as I can, if not to calm Aster down. The energy coming from him is buzzing, and it makes me nervous. If I don’t get them out of here soon, Aster might hurt Jason, if the look in his eyes is any indication.

“Okay, why would that make you faint?”

I’m getting frustrated now, this cop has no business being in mine, and I don’t want to explain myself to him.

Before I can respond, Aster is for me, “She is estranged from her father, her mother passed away not too long ago, and the news shocked her. That is all. So, if there is nothing else, officers it is time for you to go, so she can get some much needed rest”.

I smile, grateful for Aster cutting in and telling the cops to leave.

Mustache clears his throat. “Yes, that is all. Sorry to disturb you, thank you for your time.” He looks at me, “I’m happy to see you’re okay.”

We walk them to the door, the younger one standing there staring at Aster longer than necessary before finally leaving when Mustache yells for him to come. As he’s walking away I hear him mumble “I swear, I know him.”

I shut the door and turn into Aster's waiting arms. He holds me for a minute until I look up, “Everything okay? You seemed on edge since the cops showed up.”

He looks down and smiles. “Yeah, I’m good, little lamb. Let's get you upstairs.” His smile doesn’t reach his eyes, his body is still tense, I can tell he’s lying. Something tells me to leave it be, for now.

He helps me into bed, sitting on the edge next to me.

“So,” he starts, brushing some hair behind my ear. “Want to tell me what really happened?” I tense and he levels his gaze with mine.

Did he see through my lie, like I did his?

“It’s exactly as I told the police, I don’t remember anything after everything went black.” I jab him in the chest. “Want to tell me how you got into my house?”

He looks away, his cheeks heating with embarrassment. He schools his features before looking back at me. “I came over to pick you up for a surprise date, I saw your car in the driveway, so I knew you were home, but I kept ringing the doorbell and after ten minutes, with no answer…” He looks down and starts to fiddle with his hands. “I just had a feeling something was wrong, so I forced my way in.”

“What do you mean you forced yourself in?” I squint my eyes, and tilt my head, nervous to hear he broke my door or something.

“I picked the lock and came in.”

Thank God my door is still intact.

Wait… What? I was not expecting that. My eyes take in everything that Aster is, trying to see past the man full of secrets in front of me. What else can he do that he hasn’t told me about yet?

“Look.” He runs his fingers through his sandy hair, “I didn’t know if you were hurt and the feeling I had… I couldn't ignore it.” He looks at me, taking my hands in his. “I had to make sure you were okay. I know I shouldn’t have broken in, but I’m not sorry. You should get better locks.”

“Aster, it’s okay. I’m not upset, I’m actually grateful you were here, who knows what would have happened if you weren’t. I was only quiet because I was thinking how much of a mystery you are to me.”

He brings my hands to his mouth, kissing them with a smile.“I promise you will know everything in due time, little lamb.”

He lets go of my hands, putting me into a lying position, and hovering over me, staring into my soul. I go breathless and my heart pounds in my chest.

He looks down at my lips, and I lick them without thinking about it. He looks back into my eyes with a predatory glint. I glance down, already see his growing erection, my core weeping in anticipation.

I go to grab it, and he grabs my arm stopping me with a soft grunt. I look up at him, sadness and confusion thrumming through me. All he does is shake his head at me.

Is he rejecting me again?

As if reading my mind, a smirk softens his face. He says, “I’m not rejecting you.” I shake my head, eyes wide with shock, he's answering the question in my mind. “You just fell and hit your head and as much as I want to feel that sweet pussy again, you need rest.”

I go to argue, but he places his finger over my mouth, shushing me. “No arguing, Serena, I’m serious. Turn your cute little ass over and go to sleep. I promise next time we’re together I will make you beg me to stop.”

Feeling giddy about his promise, I nod my head, giving him a soft kiss before turning over.

I feel him get up, kissing my head and walking out the door. After I hear the front door shut and his car drive away, I find myself starting to slowly drift to sleep, flashes of teal and darkness swirling in my head.