3. Devina
Taylor sighs over the phone. “You agreed to what?”
I can imagine him pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.
“I agreed to get us closer to the man who took everything from me – from us. I just narrowed down our search. I am taking one for the team here.” I spent the past twenty minutes giving my best friend a rundown of last night’s events.
While the initial reports showed that Scarlet and my father were the only remains found, it was later discovered that Taylor’s mother was found in the back of the house. No gunshot wounds. She wasn’t supposed to be there, just an unfortunate casualty in the war that ensued that night.
“Vi, I love you. You know I’m in this with you, but do you hear yourself? You are willingly entering the lion’s den.” His aggravation bubbles beneath the surface.
“I’m running out of time.” I reason in my best annoying little sister voice. Taylor is the only one who knows about my diagnosis. The silence on the other end is telling me that he knows I’m right.
“This will change a lot of our plan. For one, it will make our communication more difficult. You think your new husband will approve of you hanging out with another guy?”
“You aren’t just another guy. You are my best friend. You’re practically my brother,” I say.
“Your best friend and co-conspirator.” He chuckles.
“He won’t need to know that! And besides, you are family. Where I go, you go, right?”
“Sure, well, we have our work cut out for us. How do you see all of this going down?”
“I want him to burn.” A daydream that occupies my mind more than I am willing to admit. I run my fingers over the scars on my left arm and relish in the feeling of satisfaction I’ll feel watching his skin melt away from his body. How his screams will slowly evaporate as death consumes him. How proud Scarlet will be.
“You still there?” Taylor brings me back to reality.
“Still here.” I clear my throat, “Hey, I have to get going. Declan sent me a note that I have my first dress fitting today and our pending nuptials will be happening as soon as possible.”
“You get a real wedding?” He jokes. “Usually these deals happen in a courthouse on the sly. It’s not like you love each other. Do you even know which one you are marrying? It will be easier to research if I know.”
“No, but I have a feeling it’s Philippe. I’d start there.” I say, “And as much as I love you, you know you can’t be there, right? I want to keep you a secret as long as I can.”
“You know I’ll have eyes in the sky before the big day. Love you, sis.” I don’t think he realizes how much I wish he was my brother. Taylor is two years older but his mother started working for us when we were in elementary school. We grew up together and are practically family.
We hang up and I pull on some leggings and a long-sleeved T-shirt. Day two hair will have to suffice.
When I hit the bottom of the stairs, I can hear shuffling in the kitchen. Darlene is attempting to make a cappuccino.
“Hey there!” I smile. “Need some help?” Darlene is the house manager Declan hired a week ago. I hope she sticks around. It makes me uneasy to imagine Declan in this house all alone. We haven’t maintained a full staff since my father ruled this house but Darlene seems promising. She is a quiet woman, a few years older than me. She is radiant. She looks like someone who should be on the cover of a magazine instead of running Declan’s errands.
“You’re a lifesaver, Miss Sullivan. I can’t get this thing to agree with me!”
“Darlene, I’ve told you a million times. Please call me ‘Vi’, everyone does. And I’m not your boss. Your boss is the guy with a stick up his -”
“Up his. . .” Declan enters the room adjusting his tie.
“Oh great, you’re here! Are you taking me to get a dress today?” I change the subject and Darlene averts her eyes and scurries away.
“I’d love to Devina, but your little stunt last night has me running around in circles today trying to finalize some things that have to be done before your wedding.”
“When exactly is my wedding?” I guess as the bride I should know.
“Tuesday. Be at the church at four.” He pours a cup of coffee. He turns to leave but pauses, “I know why you are doing this Devina.”
My breath hitches.
Without turning to look at me, he lowers his head. “I won’t stop you. But I don’t agree with it. Nothing will bring her back.”
My heart sinks. Scarlet is not a topic we discuss openly. She’s the ghost that wanders these halls and provides a slight buffer between us. We grieve her in our own way. Alone. Always alone. I can’t be surprised that once he had time to calm down last night, he was able to see my real intentions.
On the third anniversary of the fire, Declan and I got drunk and I confessed the details of what happened that night. I wanted them to pay in blood. Declan didn’t think I could be capable of such things. I was the baby, he was ten years my senior. I was innocent in his eyes. But I saw a glimmer of recognition in his eyes that night. Like he was meeting a new, dark version of me for the first time. A version that was not so unlike him.
We never spoke of it again. And since, we rarely speak about Scarlet, our parents, or the unfortunate events that left us orphans.
I swallow down the last of my coffee and the feeling of longing knowing today is nothing like what I would have imagined. Scarlet should be here with me and the urge to stab the fucker that took her from me gives me the will to put one foot in front of the other and take the next step towards sealing his fate.
* * *
There aren’t many options for what I’m looking for in this dress shop. I was greeted by Ms. Penny, a petite round woman with bottle cap glasses. She is cheery and eager to help me say yes to the dress. Unfortunately, most of these dresses are strapless and the ones with sleeves look dated and are likely for the women who are far beyond my age.
“Are you ready to show me?” Ms. Penny calls from the other side of the door.
The dress is mostly lace. Gold embellishments are sprinkled subtly throughout the bodice, which hugs me in all the right places. The gown is a modest princess, flowing down to the floor. The only problem – the sweetheart neckline leaves most of my chest and arms bare.
“Ready as I’ll ever be.” I take one final look before turning to walk out to the wall of mirrors.
Hurrying past Ms. Penny, I situate myself on top of the faux stage.
The door rings as someone enters and Ms. Penny excuses herself to assist the customer.
Returning moments later, she makes her way around me to fluff my dress. Catching a glimpse of the damage to my arm, she pauses and attempts to regain her composure.
“It’s OK,” I say, knowing she is wondering how a young lady such as myself could have earned herself such a gruesome scar. “It doesn’t hurt,” I assure her, knowing that is usually the first question people have.
“I’m sorry dear, I don’t mean to stare.” She busies herself fluffing the rest of my skirt and pinching the back of my bodice.
I gaze at myself and believe it or not, I feel beautiful. I look like a real bride. I mean, I am a real bride. If this dress had sleeves, I would buy it in a heartbeat. But I can’t bring myself to commit to it. I imagine everyone present would look at me the way Ms. Penny just did.
This may be an arrangement, but I would hate for people to think it is arranged because Declan Sullivan’s baby sister is too deformed and disgusting to get herself a husband on her own.
“Can I have just a minute?” I ask.
“Sure thing, I’ll go check on my other guest and be right back.” She smiles and looks grateful for an escape.
I pull the hair tie from my hair and my locks fall around my shoulders. I adjusted half of it up with my hand to see if I could distract from my insecurities to no avail.
Mrs. Penny returns, “Sorry about that dear. How do we feel about this one?”
“I don’t think this one is going to work.” I tell her, “I need one of those with sleeves. For obvious reasons.” I point to the chair that holds the three long-sleeved dresses I selected earlier. “I’d like to change now.” I step down from the stage and make my way back to the changing room before anyone can witness the tears that have welled in the corner of my eyes.
When I emerge, Mrs. Penny is waiting with a smile, and the three dresses I can’t help but hate in comparison to the one I just stepped out of.
“Which one are we saying yes to, dear?” She smiles kindly.
“Surprise me,” I say, leaving her shocked. Right now, we are both disappointed. “Look, I really love the last one, but if I’m not wearing that I don’t have a preference. You have a beautiful store full of beautiful dresses. Any one of these will do.”
She beams at the compliment. “You will be a beautiful bride, miss. I will make some small adjustments for your measurements and have it sent to the address you provided.”
I thanked her and left to head home. The entire experience took more of an emotional toll than I thought it would and I could use a run.