Chapter Sixteen
Roman
Driving through Manhattan is what fucking nightmares are made of. It’s even worse when operating an Oshkosh HET, a vehicle designed to move heavy equipment.
The traffic swallows us, and I pinch the bridge of my nose before laying on the horn when another car cuts in front of me. “Jackass!”
Kairo snorts from the passenger seat as he scrolls on his phone. “Say it louder. I don’t think they heard you.”
“Fuck off,” I grumble before resting my head back against my seat. “How much longer until we reach Fort Hamilton?”
“Thirty-eight minutes,” Maddox supplies from the back.
I groan. “Of course.”
Being in the army is just as horrible as we all thought it would be.
Climbing our way through the ranks has been a bitch and a half, and there was a time we were all separated during basic training.
Kairo probably suffered the most from it.
He didn’t get along with the other recruits, and I don’t blame him.
Maddox excelled in the solitude while I was stuck dealing with stories of my old man’s accomplishments.
In his shadow, I was pressured beyond belief.
I still am, but now I have some respect within my rank.
It isn’t much, but it’s better than scrubbing toilets and cooking dinner.
It’s been an adjustment, to say the least.
Kairo flicks through his feed, oblivious that I’m peering at his screen out of pure fucking boredom. He scrolls quickly past some girl singing in a dimly lit bar, and it creates a domino effect in the vehicle.
Maddox shifts forward, bracing his hands on our seats as he peers over the console. Kairo tenses before flicking back to the video. My neck prickles with awareness at the familiar, melodious voice that fills the cab, and my pulse races.
“Wait…” Kairo squints at the screen, but whoever is recording is doing a shit job. The video is shaky as the sounds of a roaring crowd nearly overpower the woman’s vocals.
But the voice strikes a chord with all of us in an instant.
When a flash of blurry black hair moves across the stage, I snatch the phone from my friend. Whoever is recording shrieks, starstruck by the singer, and I lose sight of the performer again.
“There’s no way…” Maddox trails from behind me.
I can’t stop staring. My brain can’t process what I think is happening. That’s not possible…
“She died!” Kairo throws his hands out before a humorless chuckle tumbles from his lips. “That’s not—”
“Don’t,” I warn harshly, pinning him with a glare. “Don’t say her name.”
He tilts his head in a challenge. “Not saying her name isn’t going to change the fact that we can see her.”
“We don’t know if that’s her,” I snap.
Kairo shakes his head as he laughs bitterly. “Oh, yeah? Sounds an awful lot like Rosalie.”
My muscles lock, bunching under my Army Greens. The sound of her name ricochets around my head, a haunting sound that plagues my nightmares. The girl I thought was a ghost, forever trailing mercilessly behind me and making crushing weight settle in my limbs, is alive.
“She’s here,” Maddox says before shoving his finger towards the screen. “She’s performing at Varsity Vat.”
I close my eyes, my lips twisting in displeasure. “It isn’t her.”
Kairo shoots forward, turning on me. “Fine! Let’s make a stop and see for ourselves then.”
My jaw ticks. “No.”
“It’s on the next street,” Maddox protests at my obvious refusal.
“Stop the fucking truck,” Kairo seethes.
My hand tightens on the wheel as I shove the phone back at my friend. “We aren’t stopping. We have a deadline.”
Maddox checks his watch. “We're an hour ahead of schedule. We’ll be stuck waiting in the yard until someone comes to help with the drop off.”
My knuckles are turning white from how hard I’m gripping the leather beneath them. “We. Aren’t. Stopping.”
“Let’s take a vote then,” Kairo shifts in his seat. “All in favor of going to Varsity Vat?”
Both of my friends raise their hands.
“Two against one,” Kairo smirks.
Honestly, I’m terrified of seeing it for myself. The longer Rosalie lives in the vacant spot of my mind where I dare not touch, her memory lingering like a phantom, the more I can forget. Not that I ever will, but the illusion is what I’m chasing. I want to remain oblivious.
It’s the only way I can keep myself sane at this point.
But as both of my friends stare at me, their eyes pleading and urging me to take the next left, I sigh in resignation as I flick on the blinker.
Maybe there is still a small part of me that thinks we’ll come up short and I’ll get to gloat before things go back to normal.
Or there’s another part of me that’s hoping I’m wrong.
Not that I would ever admit it, but as the buzz beneath my skin begins to grow, the closer we inch through traffic to Varsity Vat, the more that small, nagging voice tugs away in my subconscious.
It’s her.
It has to be.
The voice and hair were unmistakable.
Kairo is thrumming his fingers on his thigh in anticipation, and Maddox radiates curiosity from the backseat. They’re on edge too, and it soothes some of my nerves to know I’m not alone in this.
There is no parking with the narrow street, but we catch our first glimpse of the bar and just how packed it is. People are lined up outside, waiting to get in. There’s security working the front door, checking IDs, and keeping the crowd at bay.
“There’s nowhere to park,” I say with every intention of just rolling right past it, but my friends aren’t having it.
“Just put on the hazard lights. We’ll be quick.” Kairo instructs, already unbuckling his seatbelt.
I hear the click of Maddox’s as he throws the back door open before I can fully stop.
“In and out. Five minutes.” I warn.
We all clamber out, and the person sitting idle behind us in traffic blares their horn before shoving their middle finger out the window at us.
“Sit on it and rotate!” Kairo calls back.
I snatch the back of his neck, reigning him in. “Your fucking mouth is going to get us in trouble.”
He only smirks as we near the bar’s entrance. The bouncer, a burly man with a bald head, scowls at us as we cut the line.
“What can I help you with?” He asks, his voice snippy.
“We’re here to see Rosalie,” Kairo says suavely with a charming smile. “We’re…friends of hers.”
The bouncer lifts a brow. “Yeah? So are about twenty other people in this line. Get to the back.”
My eyes narrow on him as a man with sweat-slicked hair squishes past the overcrowded door. He’s all smiles as he pulls a cigarette out of his pocket. I notice that his shirt is stamped with the bar’s logo, and I school my features into something easy to read and memorable.
“Is there a manager we can speak to? We’ve been traveling for days and just wanted to stop in to see an old friend. We won’t take too long.” I place a hand over my chest, really selling my sincerity.
The man who’s lighting his cigarette tilts his head towards the bar. “Do you know our little Rosalina?”
Rosalina.
My teeth grind at the nickname. Something dark curls around my neck, infecting my blood as I plaster on a tight, go fuck yourself smile. “We went to high school with Rosalie.”
The man nods as he takes a long drag. “Let ‘em in, Bruce. They’re serving our country.” He gives us a bright grin before ducking off to the far side of the building to enjoy his smoke in peace.
The security side-steps before motioning us into the crowded bar. The air is sweltering, and people are packed together like sardines as we brush through. We get a few glares, but no one questions us as another song starts, and we all stop.
As if drawn to the enchanting vocals, we lift our heads over the throng, and my heart slams to a halt.
Up on the stage, Rosalie stands with a mic in her hands.
She’s dressed in some knee-length white boots that show off her long legs, and a skirt paired with a vest. It’s the most skin I think she’s ever shown, and I can’t look away.
Her long black hair is clean and hangs down to her waist. It’s pin-straight and shiny. She looks healthy.
The dark bags under her eyes are gone, transforming her into someone entirely new. Whoever the girl on stage is, she isn’t Dirt anymore. She’s Rosalie Beckett.
That’s the first thing that stuns us to our very core. Next are the haunting vocals that flow from her pouty pink lips. She closes her eyes, putting her whole soul into the song as raw emotion filters through the bar.
She sounds…ethereal.
Like some untouchable goddess.
I’ve never heard anything like it before…
None of us moves an inch. We’re spellbound by her presence. I’m even more shocked at the striking realization that she’s alive.
The spot over my heart burns, and I unknowingly lift a hand to the ink that resides under my Army Greens. It’s my biggest kept secret, and one that will forever mark my past.
Where I once considered Rosalie a phantom, she’s now a siren—enchanting and unattainable.
Something fragile that isn’t meant for the likes of my hands—tainting and unworthy.
She’ll forever remain a ghost of my past, and the constant reminder of what I’ve done until the day I fucking die.
Because I have to walk away. I can’t stand this suffocating bar anymore.
I feel like the walls are closing in on me, and as Kairo threatens to take a hesitant step forward, I grab his shoulder.
“No,” I command, pulling him back.
His head whips around to me, his eyes wide with fury. “She’s right there!”
Maddox asks a server for her notepad, scribbles something, and hands it back to her. “Can you give this to Rosalie?”
The server tucks it back into her apron. “Sure, but I’m sure her set is almost up if you wanted to stick around—”
“We’re leaving. Don’t tell her we were here.” I dismiss as I turn and stalk out of the bar.