Something She's Not Telling Us - Darcey Bell Page 0,70
the money.
I hate when people lie. So many times I would like to lie, because it would be so much easier than telling the truth. But I don’t lie. I’m an honest person.
It was smart of me to take Rocco’s keys. All the houses on his mother’s block are locked behind wrought iron cages. Maybe they should wonder if that means no one wants them here. Didn’t Chef Basil notice that his staff was figuring out the best place to stick his fancy Japanese knife in him when they rose up and took back the house?
Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to stab someone. Who would I stab first? Charlotte? Rocco’s mom?
Rocco was asleep when I got back. I nicked my finger with a razor blade and bled a few drops onto a tampon (I’d brought some from New York) and wrapped it in toilet paper and threw it on top of the trash in the bathroom. I had to take an Ambien and a Klonopin so I wouldn’t be lying there with my eyes wide-open watching headlights sweep by on the wall.
That’s why I was a little groggy when I heard the uproar in the kitchen and Rocco jumped out of bed.
The girl Rocco had been flirting with at the party had been beaten up by her boyfriend. Terrible! We’d seen her the night before. Rocco and I had just talked to her. And now she was . . . I couldn’t bear to picture that pretty face . . .
I got a creepy feeling when I heard it happened in the park, because that was where I met the driver. I knew I was being absurd. How many men were out that night? And why would a guy who wanted to clear his conscience by returning our money go out and attack a woman?
A coincidence, that was all.
IT WAS PAINFUL watching Rocco and Charlotte say goodbye to their mother. She couldn’t wait for them to leave. When Rocco tried to hug her, he reminded me of a boy embracing a store-window mannequin. I couldn’t watch. I’d never loved Rocco so much. I wanted to protect him, the way my grandparents protected me from my mother.
Rocco’s mother knelt in front of Daisy and hugged her. Daisy was in tears as her grandmother, also in tears, promised she’d visit soon.
I was overjoyed to see Paco’s van. I felt like an innocent prisoner getting out of jail after a long and unfair sentence.
Charlotte climbed into the back of the van, because she’s such a martyr. I had to slide in beside her, to show that I was as unselfish as she was, and also because neither Eli nor Rocco was about to go back there.
“We girls always get the back of the bus,” I whispered to Charlotte. She didn’t crack a smile.
I wasn’t thrilled to sit next to her on the way to the airport. It wasn’t a very long trip. But Charlotte’s chilly presence made the ride seem endless.
The thing I never saw coming was that Charlotte would steal my passport.
By the time we got to the ticket counter, my passport was gone. Gone! I knew I’d put it in my purse before I left. I’d put it in the special compartment where I always keep it.
No one but Charlotte could have taken it.
When I placed my purse on the seat between us was the only time my passport left my hand.
20
Rocco
There’s blood on the sink. Blood on the soap and on Ruth’s hands.
Ruth said she’d gotten her period, so when he woke up, that’s what he thought. Even when he heard about Reyna. Even then.
When he got back to their room from the kitchen, where he heard about Reyna, he checked his phone for the time and any messages. A pointless reflex. No one was trying to reach him here.
That’s when he saw the outgoing text.
From him—that is, it seemed to be from him—to Reyna.
Meet me in the park. I need to talk to you.
Could he have sent it? No.
Things like that used to happen when he was drinking. He’d had blackouts, memory gaps. But he hadn’t drunk anything last night. He hadn’t, so how . . . ?
Ruth.
It had to be Ruth.
She’d taken his phone while he was in the shower. She’d texted Reyna, pretending to be him. Texted Reyna from his phone.
He was going to be sick. He needed not to be sick. He had to stay calm. He had to think.