The Blue Rose

30. Serena

THIRTY

SERENA

A fter waking up the next morning and seeing what I saw in my dream, I now know what it means. I hugged and kissed my dad and Sharon goodbye, with promises of seeing them soon and got on the road. I threw on a concert hoodie over my pajamas to keep warm. I was heading straight to Aster's house for answers, why did he kill again? Who did he kill, they never have faces, his victims in my dreams, but this time his face is as clear as day.

The sun is just rising; it’s early, but I was so anxious I couldn’t wait any longer. I had to wake Dad up. The only reason I didn’t leave in the middle of the night was because I didn’t need them asking questions I couldn’t give the answer to. They might be cool with me killing people, but I highly doubt they’d welcome my serial killer boyfriend with open arms.

Rolling down the window and turning up the radio, I rub my eyes and let out a big yawn. Although I need answers, and I know Aster is going to want the same, I need coffee. Our heavy conversation can wait until after I’m caffeinated.

The sky smells of rainwater since it rained last night. It’s fresh and comforting. When I watched the drops fall from the window last night, I looked at it as if all my sins were washing away. Every awful thing I did, the lives I stole, gone, but not forgotten this time.I didn’t want to go back to believing the one person who made my life a living hell was the only one I could rely on. It’s much better to know she’s burning there eternally. I smile at that thought, a peaceful calm settling over me.

Honestly, the reason I think I didn't forget is because of Aster. Since meeting him, he has awakened things in me I never want to put to sleep again. I felt a darkness growing inside me since he entered my life, a part of me realizing the dreams I had were memories. The pain he inflicted was pure ecstasy, and now I know everything I’ve been dreaming about is all true.

The truth isn’t as scary as I thought it would be . At first, I was devastated, confused, and angry. For forgetting, mostly, but after I let those emotions process, I felt peace. A sense of serenity washed over me knowing the truth.

Once I get into Salem, I head straight to my favorite coffee shop, Sinister Beans. They are known for their horror themed coffees and milkshakes. They opened their location here a couple years ago and, being a town like Salem, the spooky Halloween place it is known to be, everyone flocked to them. I, too, was a part of the horde of people who waited outside the long line to try their themed drinks. The first, and my favorite, was their Pennywise drink for obvious reasons. It is made with two shots of espresso, white chocolate raspberry, topped with whipped cream, raspberry sauce drizzle, and a red balloon. The cup itself is a thirty two ounce glass, with Pennywise's face on it, and they spin it in the raspberry sauce at the top so it looks like blood is dripping down the sides. It’s twenty-five dollars a drink, but you get to keep the cup and the balloon. I say that is a great deal, since their opening I have ordered every single theme iced coffee, and the best part is they always come up with more ideas and cup designs. My cupboard at home is full, and I still can’t get enough.

Walking in, I'm hit with the smell of coffee beans and sweetness. I stop in the doorway taking in all the sounds and smells. You can hear the can of whip cream being sprayed, and it is music to my ears. “Zombified” by Falling In Reverse is playing over the speakers, and I can’t help but smile at the irony of this song playing after everything I just found out.

There’s a new sign posted showing they have new drinks and horror characters I can’t wait to try. The line is longer than usual, especially this early. I take out my phone and see they posted on their Instagram about their new drinks. This is why it’s so busy; everyone wants to try it before they’re sold out. While they do sell out, and pretty quickly I might add, they always restock, it just takes longer than one would expect. Everything from the cups to the whip cream, and even the ice cream, are all made in house, which is another reason I love coming here. Can’t beat anything homemade, none of that processed shit.

“Serena! How are you?” Lena, one of the owners' daughters, greets me. I'm a regular here, and I’ve come to know the family pretty well.

“I’m good, Lena! How are you?” I ask, staring at the wall of the new drinks behind her.

She laughs, the crinkle in her brown eyes lighting them up. “I see you’re here for a new drink; what will it be today?”

“Actually, I didn’t even know about the new drinks. I was headed back home from my dad’s.” Her face falls, she knows all about my relationship with my father. While I don’t consider us friends, coming here can be like going to a bar where the baristas become your counselor while you drink if they're not busy. With how often I’ve come here, they got to know my story pretty well, and I theirs. Lena is happily married to her husband, Jessie, for four years, and they have two beautiful boys and one little girl. She runs the coffee shop and is the brains behind the operation, making the designs for the cups.

“Things are better. I went up, and we had a long talk. Everything that happened between us is forgiven, but not forgotten, and I even got closer to his fiancé.” Her face softens, but apprehension is still there. “I promise; I’ll tell you about it another day, but things are better, and I’m happy.”

She grabs my hands. “I believe you, but just be careful. From what you’ve told me, I worry.”

I squeeze her hands back. Taking my hands away, I point to the Texas Massacre drink. “I would love to try that one.”

She turns around, her strawberry blonde curls bouncing when she does, and says, “Oh! The Texas Chainsaw Massacre; that is one of my new favorites, and you’re going to love the design.” I smile, already knowing it’s going to be a hit. “Hey, Theresa!” she yells at her sister. “Can you take over the front real quick?”

Her sister walks over, an annoyed look on her face. “Why? I thought I was on coffee duty today?” Theresa is younger than us, still in college, but spends her weekends here to earn extra cash and help the family. She has the same curls as her sister, but her hair is more orange than blonde. She looks like a true ginger with the freckles to match.

Lena touches her shoulder, an exasperated smile on her face. “You are, but I wanted to make Serena’s drink.”

She looks over and, for the first time, notices me. “Oh, Serena! I didn’t recognize you; you look different.”

I cock my head to the side, a small blush creeping up my neck. “Different good or different bad?”

She laughs, making the freckles on her cheeks look like they're bouncing as well. “You look like you’re glowing.” My brow furrows, not understanding what she means. “I don’t know, just… happier, I guess. You used to look happy, but it never reached your eyes. I know why, but now it shows.” She stares into my eyes, which makes me shiver. I don’t like it when people stare that hard at me. She shakes her head and looks at her sister, pink staining her cheeks. “Anyway; Lena, I'll take over. It was nice to see you, Serena.”

“Nice to see you, Theresa.” I walk over to watch Lena make my drink. An extra boost of confidence knowing that my truth has made me glow. A new love shining through my eyes,

“No, no, no; you go sit down. I want this to be a surprise when I bring it over.”

I put my hands up, and a chuckle escapes me. “Okay, okay; I’m going.”

As I sit and wait in my favorite spot by the window I stare at the passersby, the cars coming and going, listening to the bell chime every time someone leaves or enters the shop. The Massacre drink sounded interesting, combining some of my favorite flavors with toffee, mocha, two shots of espresso, and cinnamon.

Lena places the coffee down in front of me, the biggest smile on her face. “Ta-da! What do you think? And be honest.”

The cup is Leatherface holding a chainsaw coming out of the Texas state symbol, making it look like he’s coming right for you. The top is rolled in a red sauce, their signature blood dripping down the sides. It’s finished off with whip cream sprinkled in cinnamon and more red sauce, giving it a dirty, bloody look, and a mini chainsaw also dripping in the dark red sauce. Where she got the mini chainsaw, I don’t know, but I love it. I take a picture and quickly add it to my Instagram story, tagging the shop as I always do.

She watches, eagerly waiting for me to try it. I take a sip and instantly am hit with an array of flavors, being sent to coffee heaven. I can taste the mocha and toffee, but there is something else I don’t recognize immediately. I lick the whip cream, my tastebuds singing, knowing exactly what the mystery red sauce is. “Is that caramel?”

She nods her head enthusiastically. “It is! I added red food coloring to give it a bloodier look; that’s what’s dripping down the sides too.”

“You’re a magician when it comes to flavor,” I say, taking another bite of whip cream and washing it down with some coffee. The flavors mesh perfectly together, you would never guess caramel was the red sauce. “How did you come up with caramel instead of your usual red flavors?”

“Well, I did try raspberry, cherry, even the white mocha dyed red, and none tasted right. The fruit flavors mixed with the toffee made it taste like medicine, and the white mocha was too sweet with the other flavors, throwing everything off balance. I wracked my brain for days, and finally Jessie gave me the idea to do caramel.”

“Jessie?” I ask, lifting one eyebrow.

She laughs. “Yes, Jessie; at first I thought it would be too thick and the color wouldn’t work, but after a couple tries, I got the right consistency and voila!” She gestures to the cup, a huge smile on her face. “The Texas Massacre.”

“I love it, especially the design. It's very creative; can’t wait to come back and try the others.”

“Lena, a little help please!” Theresa hollers.

Jumping when her name is called, Lena looks behind her and sees the line has grown nearly out the door.

“Shit; sorry, Serena. Duty calls.” She rushes back behind the counter, and I go back to enjoying my drink. I take out my phone and open my reading app, eager to catch up on the book I was reading while I finish my drink.

Three taps hit the table, taking me out of the world I had disappeared to in my head. “Hey, Serena.”

I look up, not recognizing the face in front of me, annoyed that someone is bothering me. Who is this guy? Why is he interrupting me and how does he know my name?

He places his hand on his chest. “We met at the flea market. I asked you out, but your boyfriend interrupted.” He places his hand on the back of the chair, eyes darting around, fingers tapping, nervous energy radiating off of him. “Can I sit here?”

Oh yeah, Bradley. He was very touchy and didn’t understand personal space. I’m surprised he’s asking to sit instead of just doing it . I nod my head, and he takes the seat across from me.

“Funny running into you here. I didn’t know you liked this shop.” He chuckles nervously.

The way he won’t look at me, and keeps tapping his fingers incessantly, tells me he’s lying. Why is he so nervous? Does he think Aster is here? Should I lie and tell him he’s in the bathroom so he’ll leave me alone?

“Actually, that was a lie. I saw on your Instagram; I knew you were here.”

My eyes narrow, anger and suspicion darkening my face. Is he fucking stalking me?

He holds his hands up defensively. “I’m not stalking you. Shit. Well, I am , but I needed to talk to you, and I had no idea when you’d do another showing at the market.”

Oh, fuck this. I already have a serial killer in my life; I don’t need a stalker, too. Granted, Aster is probably a stalker, but I love him. I don’t even know this guy. I stand, but he grabs my hand, stopping me.

“Please hear me out,” he begs, "It's about Tyler.”

Tyler? The guy Aster killed? How does he know him, and why does he want to talk about him with me? His words have me freezing, turning around to look at him, and I examine his face this time. Fuck.

“He’s my brother. Meeting you at the market wasn’t an accident. I knew you’d be there, and I just wanted to know what happened to him. Or if you knew anything” He lets go of my arm after I sit back down, hanging his head and looking absolutely defeated. “I know Tyler went on a date with you the night he went missing. I told the cops. They showed me the footage of your boyfriend pushing him down, and, after meeting him myself, I have a feeling he has something to do with his disappearance.”

My leg starts to shake, and I sip my drink watching him, listening to him. He thinks Aster did something. My leg stills. He can’t find out. He led the police to me and Aster, and he found my Instagram to find me and confront me. As much as I want to be mad, I can’t. It's his family, and he just wants answers.

Answers he will never get.

“He texted me that night about what happened, saying he was going to his ex's house for comfort.” He adds quotations and an eye roll at comfort.

“Okay, so he went and saw his ex, then she was the last person to see him, not me or my boyfriend.” Since his ex was the last person to see him, the police probably questioned her as well. I can turn this around and get Aster out of this mess, making everyone think the crazy ex did it.

He tries to grab my hands, but I cradle my glass with both hands, restricting him from touching me. He clears his throat, and looks away. “Yes, but she would never hurt him. She loves him; she always comforts him.”

I lean back and shrug my shoulders. “Sounds like she got jealous and reacted without thinking. You can do things you don’t mean or remember.”

His fist slam on the table, startling me. “You’re not listening to me!”

Lena rushes over, concern and anger on her face. “Sir, I need to ask you to leave; you can’t act like that here,” she says in a stern voice.

He brushes her off, leveling his eyes with mine. “I know your boyfriend did something to him. Call it a brother's intuition or a sixth sense, but I’m going to find out. When I do, you’ll be sorry.”

“Sir!” Lena demands, “If you don’t leave, I will call the police.”

He stands up, eyes never leaving mine. “I’m going.” He walks to the door and stops, refusing to look over his shoulder. “Mark my words, Serena, I will find out the truth.”

A breath I didn’t even realize I was holding breaks free when the door shuts behind him, and Lena wraps her arms around me. “Are you okay? What was that all about?”

“Nothing; I’m fine, I-” I start to panic, grabbing my phone and drink, as I get up. “I have to go.”

I leave Lena standing there confused and worried. I feel bad, but I need to protect Aster. He’s the most important person to me, and I won’t let anyone ruin what we have.

I rush after Bradley, determination in my steps. “Bradley, wait!” I yell.

He stops and turns around, “What?” he snaps.

How did he get so far? After all that running, I’m out of breath, and I place my hands on my knees as I gasp. “I believe you.”

His hardened face softens. “You do?”

“Yes, but we have to talk in private. Aster has eyes everywhere, and if he knows we’re talking, he might hurt you.” I lie, knowing full well Aster won’t be the one hurting him.

“Okay, where should we talk?”

I look around, checking for cameras. Can’t leave any evidence, Can’t let anyone know I was the last to see him.

“I need you to go to a couple stores and talk to people.” He eyes me suspiciously. I hold my hand up, glancing over my shoulder like I’m scared. “It’s so Aster can’t track you; he could be on his way at this very moment.” His back straightens and he glances nervously around. “After an hour, once you’re sure no one is watching or following you, meet me in the alley behind Louie’s bookstore. You know where that is?” He nods, fear clouding his eyes. “Good. Don’t tell a soul where you’re going. He probably already has your phone bugged, so leave it in a store bathroom and I’ll do the same with mine.”

He gives me a hug and, to keep up the act, I hug him back, making sure everyone in the coffee shop and surrounding stores sees there is no bad blood. Can’t have anyone assuming I had anything to do with his disappearance when the cops come asking questions later. “Thank you, Serena,” he whispers in my ear, making me shiver, causing bile to crawl up my throat.

I pull apart. “Now go. Remember to ditch your phone and meet me in an hour; we will get justice for Tyler.” He smiles and leaves. I watch him until he wanders into a store, hoping he listens to what I say and doesn’t tell anyone; if he does my plan would be ruined, and I’ll be the cause of Aster's demise. I won’t let that happen.

The sun we were promised today has turned overcast. It looks like a storm is headed our way, and if that is a premonition for how this is all about to go, I may change my plans. What am I doing? I have no idea how to kill someone and actually get away with it. Every cleanup has been done by someone else. Bradley needs to disappear, but I need help.

I text Aster what’s happening. Right when my phone vibrates, I hear running. I don’t bother reading his response, hoping he understood my coded message.

An out of breath Bradley comes running up to me. “Were you followed?” I ask, looking behind him nervously. The nerves I’m feeling are real, but not for the reason he thinks.

He shakes his head. “Where’s your phone?” I ask.

“Left it back in a Target bathroom, hidden; I’ll go back for it later.”

“Good, Get in.” He walks to the passenger side and gets in without hesitation.

I turn the car on, hesitating with my foot still on the brake. “Lean all the way down and cover your face; we can’t have anyone see you with me. Stay covered until I say otherwise.”

He quickly does what I say, putting on his hoodie and sliding on the sunglasses I hand him. If any cameras catch a glance of him on the way to Aster’s they wouldn’t be able to identify him. I hope. I start the drive to his house. I turn on the music to avoid conversation and take Bradley to get the answers he’s craving.

Too bad it’ll be at the expense of his life.