23. Verity
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Verity
I haven’t slept for days.
Not since I got here. But I lost count. I don’t know how longs it’s been.
Everything is blurring together in one long stream of nothingness.
Sometimes I sit and gaze at the white curtains, other times I curl up on the bed and cry.
Right now, I am pressing my knees up against my chin and squeezing my eyes closed.
I can still see his face in my mind.
His beautiful dark red beard, the angular shape of his jaw. Those piercing, pale green eyes.
Where is he?
I have never needed someone as much in my life.
But not just anyone. It has to be him. I need him.
No one has come into this room to speak to me since they slammed the door closed. I’m alone it’s making me go crazy.
The only sign that I’m not alone in this apartment is the hand that slides food through the slot in the locked door twice a day.
They don’t speak to me. They don’t answer me when I push the slot open from my side and scream into it.
They haven’t acknowledged my existence and I’m wondering if I might have died - and this is hell.
Tailor made to break me down.
I’ve been thinking about my life and how I spent my time. The friends I selected, and why.
Sammy, Bella, and Dante seem like people I knew in some different time line. Or another life perhaps.
My life before Rufino.
The parties, surrounded by so many people who never met the true me - they are just shallow memories compared to the brief time I’ve spent with Rufino.
My friends weren’t real friends. They were there for the VIP tables and endless bottles of alcohol. They were quick to say yes to a night out - but I’ve never had a genuine conversation with any of them. And when I get bored with the crowd I’ve hung out with for a while I replace them. Was I the problem?
Why be angry about the choices that led me to discovering Red? My destiny.
I never connected with my father and I never connected with my friends.
The only person I’ve ever had anything real with - is Rufino.
I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling. It’s the only part of this apartment that has any character. Pale water stains have seeped through the paint in pretty patterns edged with dark lines.
It’s the only imperfection in here.
I stare at it for long enough that it puts me in a trance.
Images of my mother flash through my mind. I never got to meet her, not when I was old enough to remember it, and I only know her through photographs. The very few that my father has shown me.
She was beautiful.
I see myself in her and I can’t count the number of times I’ve wished I could have met her. I also can’t count the amount of times my father snarled at me - telling me I was just like her as though it was an insult. He doesn’t know that the more he told me that the more I became me - or her. Everything that annoyed him becoming more stressed and defined.
He told me she left because of me. Because she wanted to escape me.
I’ve always known it wasn’t true. In my heart I knew she would never have done that.
Our housekeeper told me the truth when I was about six, confirming what I already believed.
My mother loved me deeply. She had nothing but warmth for me. She would sit for hours, singing while she rocked me on her lap. Her eyes would light up when I laughed. She loved me. No one can take that from me.
But one day, before my first birthday, she disappeared. And my father threatened everyone in the house that if they spoke of her again, he would cut their tongues out.
The day after the housekeeper told me the truth she disappeared too.
If I stare at the water stain long enough, it looks like a serpent, curling over the ceiling, trying to crush the apartment with its long muscular body. I am lying in the snake's belly. Trapped and desperate for air.
The door lock clicks, and I bolt upright on the bed.
My eyes tuned onto the moving handle.
I’m holding my breath. Terrified and excited at the same time. I want to see another human being - but I want it to be Rufino.
The door swings open and my father steps into the room.
I let out a heavy sigh.
He pulls his mouth tight.
“You look like shit. Have you showered since you got here?” he snaps, tossing a set of fresh clothes onto the bed. I stare at them, then I stare at him, not saying a word.
He paces around the room as though he was strolling through a park on a summers day. His hands tucked into his pockets.
When he gets to the window, he reaches up and yanks the curtain open, flooding the space with glaring white light.
I blink against it, scrunching my eyes to narrow slits.
“Where is Rufino?” I mutter, finally finding my voice.
“Speak up, girl, I can’t understand you.” He huffs, looking bored.
“Where is Rufino?” I scream, my fingers digging into the blankets.
My father laughs, tilting his head to the side while he watches me with amusement.
“He’s not coming. Haven’t you figured it out by now? You were nothing but a game for him. A little side fling. Entertainment . He used you, Verity and you fell for it hook, line, and sinker.”
“You’re wrong about him.”
“I’m not. The only report I’ve had about the man you love, since you last saw him, is that he was seen at Collision, partying up a storm. Enjoying his life and freedom from the burden of you. He’s already forgotten about you. You are nothing but a blip in his past now.”
I shake my head. It can’t be true. He’s just saying that to mess with me.
Swallowing hard to push the tears away because I don’t want my father to see me crying, I stand up off the bed. I’m lightheaded from not eating enough and my clothes smell of sweat.
I did shower, but I had nothing else to change into.
My father looks me up and down and his lips curl into an expression of disgust.
“Shower. Then come out and have dinner with me in the living room.” He sighs.
“Are you going to let me go?” I ask, glaring at him with defiance.
“No, Verity. Until you accept that your life belongs to me, you will never leave this room.”
“How do you decide that?” I scream. “What makes your choices better than mine?”
He walks up to me and grabs my face in his hands.
“You look just like her.” His fingers dig into my cheeks, then he pushes my head to the side and lets go, wiping his hand off on his pants as though I was something dirty.
“You killed her didn’t you.” I whisper, filled with hate.
The edges of his mouth curl up into a grotesque smile.
“I don’t know why you would think that.” He shrugs, acting innocent.
“Now clean up, get dressed, and come have dinner with me.”
“No.” I say again, glaring at him. “Just kill me now and get it over with.”
He slaps me hard across the face. Heat and pain burn into my cheek.
“Then rot in here until you die.” He snarls, spinning away from me and storming towards the door.
It slams shut behind him.
The locks clicks into place.
And I am alone again.
I’d rather be alone and going crazy than spend time with my father.
As much as I have never known love until I met Rufino - I also never understood hate until I looked at my father right now.
The coldness in his eyes can’t hide who he really is anymore. I see straight through him.
I used to fear him. I might even have respected him at one point..
But now I see him for what he is. A heartless monster who takes what he wants and doesn’t give a shit about anyone else but himself.
I wouldn’t blame my mother for leaving.
But if she had she would’ve taken me with her.
She’s dead.
And he’s the one who killed her.
And when Rufino finds me - he will kill my father.
Picking up the fresh clothes from the end of the bed I carry them through to the bathroom. I flick the shower on and stare at it for a moment.
My thoughts are fragments and scattered.
Hot water from the shower fogs against the mirror while I strip out of my old clothes, leaving them lying on the bathroom floor.
Stepping under the water makes my body shudder.
I shower for a long time, letting the water caress over my body and thinking about the way Rufino’s hands would brush against my skin.
My heart is in pain, overwhelmed with anguish - unfulfilled yearning for a man I don’t know if I will ever see again.
Powerless, I crumpled to the ground, my legs unable to support me under the force of the spray.
I wrap my knees up against my chest and let my tears flow. The depth of my solitude is breaking me apart. My heart is shattering into smaller pieces with each passing day.
Where is he?
Nothing in this world makes sense without him.
After the shower I thought I would feel better, but I don’t.
Wet hair hangs over my shoulders. I’m standing with my forehead against the window, looking down towards the ground - seventeen stories looks high enough to end this misery.
I press the palm of my hand against the glass and lean my weight into it.
What’s the point of being here if he isn’t coming for me?
Wind outside the closed window whistles through a small gap in the frame. A high-pitched sound that agitates me.
I step back. Staring at the misty imprint of my palm of the otherwise clean glass.
He’ll come for me. He has to. I can’t lose hope.
He won’t leave me here. He promised.
All I need to do is be patient and wait. And not lose my mind which is steadily happening.
A plate gets shoved through the slot in the door.
I stare at it for a long time then sigh.
Eat. Stay strong. Be ready for when he comes.
I pick it up and carry it over to the bed. I sit on the edge with the food on my lap I stare at it again - thinking about how much I’ve changed.
How the things I want in my life have shifted.
“He’ll come for me.” I sigh, picking up the plastic fork and twirling the pasta around it.