“Bath Salts”—Highly Suspect
WHEN MY DAD CALLED to tell me about Abuela’s tragic passing, I couldn’t help but feel awful for not returning her many calls I had missed over the last couple months. The few times I tried to see her when I was at my dad’s, she wasn’t home. It was difficult to talk though. If Lawrence wasn’t sitting in listening to my calls, I worried he had the house bugged or my phone itself. He always seemed to know my every move, my every conversation. It pissed me off that he had answered my phone the last time she called me and didn’t bother telling me until I saw the answered call in my recent calls list. Of course, he shrugged it off when I asked him about it, saying I had been in the shower, and then he went to work and forgot about it.
Standing in front of the full-length mirror, I slipped a pair of pearl earrings in and touched up the pale lipstick I had applied earlier. Amy had already stopped by to get Ty. It didn’t seem right or fair to bring him to Abuela’s funeral. For one, he absolutely loved her, and her sweets she always baked him. For two, he was too little to understand what was going on. There would be time to tell him later.
Regardless of Lawrence’s irritation, I was going to her funeral. When I didn’t back down, I thought he was going to beat the shit out of me. Instead, he surprised me by saying he would take me. Better that than to not be able to go, so I picked my battles.
God, I looked like shit. My dress hid it well, but I had lost a lot of weight. Where I had carried quite a bit of chunk after Ty was born, I now barely had any body fat. Lawrence had enrolled me in a gym membership shortly after we started dating. At first, I thought he was being sweet because he knew I was self-conscious of my weight. It didn’t take long before he was telling me I wasn’t doing enough at the gym because I was still too fat. So he hired me a personal trainer who was a serious bitch. You would think I had pissed in her damn protein shake, the way she talked to me and sneered at me when I arrived for my workout sessions. But God help me if I didn’t show up for my allotted time with her, because she would be right on the phone tattling to Lawrence.
My hair looked good, at least. It had gotten darker as I got older, so I had some rich, mocha-brown lowlights woven through it. Reaching up to fluff it was a mistake, because the aching souvenir of Lawrence’s irritation shot through my shoulder and back. “Blonde highlights would have looked better. That mousy brown makes you look old and boring. Don’t ever do that shit again.” The rattan cane, which was his weapon of choice against me, leaned ominously in the shadowed corner of our room, purposefully left as a reminder that my choices were not my own.
Closing my eyes, I tried to take slow, deep breaths to calm my racing heart, the way Kayde had taught me when I was young and afraid of heights. As it always did, the thought of Kayde brought back memories of the last time I’d seen him—the first time I shared my body and soul with him. It had been the sweetest, most perfect moment of my life, until my baby boy came into the world.
Hearing footsteps approaching the bedroom, my eyes opened, meeting Lawrence’s in the mirror over my shoulder. With a dismissive glance at my clothing, he pointed to the shoes I had set out to wear today: a comfortable pair of black ballet flats.
“You’re not wearing those, surely? Wear the heels. They will help you look classy—well, as classy as someone like you can look. Where’s Tyler? He should be up and ready.”
Fuck. I knew this was going to be a problem. I’d never really figured out why, but he hated when I let Tyler go places without me being along, and he really, really hated Amy. Then again, the feeling was mutual. Even though she didn’t know the extent of the abuse I suffered at his hands, she knew he was a controlling asshat, and she made little secret of it when she was around him.
Trying to sound nonchalant but firm and secure in my decision, I walked to the open closet to grab the heels he insisted I wear. “I didn’t feel a funeral was an appropriate place for a three-year-old.” Balancing on one foot to reach down and slide on first one shoe, then the other, I wobbled slightly before standing up. Slipping my purse over my shoulder, I pretended to be looking for something incredibly important inside it to continue to avoid making eye contact.
His softly spoken words should have been a flashing, screaming warning. “Exactly where is he, Serafina?” Inwardly, I cringed at his use of my full name, mostly because it always sounded like he was chastising a five-year-old, which was exactly how he made me feel. Trembling hands clutched my purse handles tightly to hide the telltale signs of my fear. Showing fear to Lawrence only exacerbated the situation, as if he fed on my weaknesses.
Barely a whisper, my response was sure to anger him. “Amy stopped by earlier and offered to take him for the day since she was off today.” Unable to keep from glancing his direction to read his response, my body followed my hands in its uncontrolled shaking. The flare of his nostrils and clenching of his jaw were the first signs he was about to explode. Shit. Shit. Shit.
Not expecting him to move as fast as he did, but knowing better, when his fingers wrapped around my throat and began to squeeze, I felt the familiar panic breaking loose within me. It became more and more difficult to slip air into my lungs. It was like breathing through a straw, and my fingers clawed at his hand even though I knew better than to fight him. Burning fires of Hell consumed my chest as my body fought for much-needed, life-giving oxygen.
“I fucking told you I didn’t want him being around her. She’s a whore and isn’t fit company for our son.” Our son. I fucking hated when he called him that. He had been trying to get Ty to call him Daddy, but in the uncanny way small children and animals have of sensing the bad, dark ugliness in people, he had yet to comply. Black spots swam in my vision, and I knew I would be unconscious soon if I didn’t get some air. The tips of my toes barely touched the ground, and one of my hands clutched his wrist while the other curled around the fingers that continued to squeeze the life out of me. Vaguely, I felt my shoes fall off my feet.
Abruptly, he released the pressure around my throat, and in reflex, my body gasped to fill every single square inch of my lungs with the crisp, sweet air around me. Crumpling, I had to catch myself before I fell to my knees. Daring a quick look in the mirror, I noticed the bright red splotch around my neck was the perfect shape of a hand. Dammit.
“Get your fucking shoes on and let’s go to the old bat’s funeral.”
Scrambling to return my shoes to my feet and snag a scarf from the hook in the closet, I rushed after him, wrapping the scarf expertly around my neck. Not that I ever would, but in my mind, I silently plotted how I could kill him.
The large Catholic church had been filled to the rafters with mourners. Abuela had been a long-standing member of the church and a well-respected member of the community. Though she had aged quite a bit over the last few years, she was still relatively young, and her death was completely unexpected.
Though I knew he would be here, the sight of Kayde’s imposing height standing at the front of the church took my breath away. There was a man about his height who stood sentinel next to him the whole time, but I didn’t recognize him. His grandfather sat hunched on the pew, surrounded by Kayde and his uncles. In spite of the tall guard around him, Gus appeared forlorn and alone, a ghost of his former self. As if Abuela was his life force and he was slowly wilting without her.
The firm hand resting at my lower back guided me into a seat just as everyone was standing for the beginning of the funeral Mass. The priest’s words slid over me in a blur of muted sound. My eyes stayed on Kayde, and my mind screamed for him to look back at me. To see me. To save me. Even though I knew it was an impossible fantasy.
Not once during the service, nor his eloquent but heartbreaking speech, did he notice me. Déjà vu rained down on me, throwing me back to the day Tyler was buried. Soon, I was lost in mourning Tyler, my mother, the closeness my family once had, the loss of Kayde in my life, and my brother, who once upon a time would have been here holding my hand, but now could barely stand to look at me because I reminded him of the loss of one of his best friends.
Before I knew it, the family was saying their last goodbyes at the coffin at the front of the church. As they made their way down the aisle as they moved to leave the church, my mind again screamed for Kayde to telepathically hear me. He was supporting his grandfather though, and not once did his beautiful smoky eyes even stray from his goal of the open doors spilling in the bright, warm sunlight. The cheery rays were such a contrast to the gloomy atmosphere swallowing every person within the church.
The man who shadowed Kayde turned his head as I gave one last internal cry to Kayde before he stepped through the doors. His startling, bright turquoise eyes bored into mine, and I felt like he read the writings on my very soul. The contact was brief, because he stepped outside after Kayde and disappeared as he was swallowed in the bright light of the day. My body gave a shudder as if cold fingers had trailed down my spine.
Curling my hand through the crook of Lawrence’s bent arm in hidden aversion, I walked with him as we followed the trail of mourners up past the casket to say my last goodbye to a woman who was as much my grandmother as she was Kayde’s.
Tears rained down my cheeks, hot and unfettered, as I reached out to lay my fingers gently on Abuela’s cold, stiff hand. “Love you, Abuela, forever and always.” As I spun on my heel and turned to walk down the center aisle, I saw Lawrence had his lip curled in distaste as he gazed down on her with hooded eyes.
Before I knew it, we were parking and walking across the uneven ground to the bright blue awning shading the final resting spot of an amazingly wonderful woman. My heels sank into the soft ground with each step—the exact reason I wanted to wear the flats.
The crowd had already swelled rows and rows deep around the tent. Piles of single roses lay on top of the shining coffin, surrounding the huge spray of Abuela’s favorite flower—purple irises. Holding my handkerchief to my face to catch the tears I couldn’t control, I lay my single red rose amongst the others. More sweet, loving words were spoken. More tears. More heartache. Too much fucking sadness. Handfuls of dirt were tossed reverently with sorrowful finality. Slowly, the crowd began to disperse.
“Please, let me go offer my condolences?” Surprisingly, he nodded his approval.
Picking my way carefully across the ground, I hurried as fast as I could, my focus trained on Kayde where he stood next to his grandfather. Just as I closed in on them, I carelessly forgot about my shoes. Stumbling after my heel slid deep in the ground, I expected to face-plant in the green grass at their feet.
As large, warm hands wrapped around my waist, my hands grasped solid, muscular arms and my cheek pressed into firm pectorals hidden under a crisp, black shirt. Slowly, my eyes lifted until my vision was tunneled on blue-gray eyes flecked with slate. “Sera.” My name was whispered ardently.
Then my name was spoken by another, hated voice. “Sera, are you going to introduce us?” My lids dropped over my eyes in resignation.
“Kayde, I’m so very sorry for your loss. I’d like you to meet Lawrence.” Not.
“Her fiancé.”
What? Since when? My horrified expression might have been comical at any other time, but seeing Lawrence extend his hand to shake Kayde’s made bile rise in my throat, and my expression was the least of my worries. Screaming in my head for Kayde not to touch the vileness that coated the man who swore he loved me, but treated me like he hated the very air I breathed, had me missing the rest of what Lawrence said, but not the flare of Kayde’s eyes and the rasp of his indrawn breath.
Unmindful of my inner turmoil, he shook the proffered hand. “Kayde. Sera was like my little sister growing up. I’ve moved away, so I had no idea. Congratulations.” Only someone who knew the handsome man in front of me would know his words were laced with anger and disgust. My heart cracked and splintered at the thought of that disgust being directed toward me.
“Well, again, I’m sorry for you and your family’s loss. Serafina, shall we?” Lawrence started to step away with his hand firmly on my elbow, steering me back toward the car. In a moment of desperation, I broke free and rushed back to Kayde, just as he started to turn back to his family.
Whispering rapidly before Lawrence could come retrieve me, and knowing I would surely pay for this, I rushed to speak as I nearly crushed his fingers in mine. “Meet me at the San Fernando Cathedral. Tonight at seven o’clock. Please.” My eyes begged him to understand my fervent need for him to comply with my request before I spun to return to Lawrence before he had to retrieve me.
“Sorry, I spaced out thinking about Abuela while you were talking and forgot to offer my condolences. Thank you for being so patient.” Stupid! Hoping he didn’t remember I actually had expressed them, I prayed. My grateful, meek tone made me want to retch all over his suit, but it was worth it because he gave me one of his condescending smiles and continued to lead me farther away from the man I wanted more than anything, but knew I could never have. Risking one last glance over my shoulder, I saw his stoic form, unmoving, as he stood staring in our direction with narrowed eyes.