Kayla
It has been almost a week since I last entered the bar. I’m still angry, yet all I want to do is make sure Vero is okay. But I can’t risk it. In the past, I missed all the red fucking flags when it came to men, and I will not be that woman again. A man can say the right thing after he fucked up, but I know better than to buy into it.
Flowers started arriving at my house a few days ago. I rolled my eyes when Mabel gave me the first bunch, but I have been taking them inside and putting them in whatever I can find because the flowers did nothing to me and they smell nice. But no matter how pretty they are, flowers do not make up for what he did. More arrive every day, and I now give them to Mabel to hand out to her friends from the book club.
Thankfully, Rogue is letting me come back to work tonight. I have been going crazy staying at home watchingreruns ofGrey’s Anatomy, so it was work or a felony charge.
The second I walk round the corner onto the street of the bar, I see Rogue standing out the front vaping. She gives me a look that says we need to talk, and I sigh but stop.
“Lay it on me,” I say, and she laughs.
“Thought you might want to see this,” she says.
I tilt my head, what the heck is she talking about?
I follow her into the bar, and freeze. The entire bar is filled with flowers, not just a few bunches, but every single surface is covered, bunches big and small. Some in vases, others in glasses. It smells like a florist in here.
Bianca is standing behind the bar holding a bunch, her nose pressed into the petals.
“What the fuck,” I whisper to myself.
Rogue holds up her phone, and I see the text messages.
Hi this is Vero, I am so sorry about your bar. Please send me the bill.
Please give the flowers to Kayla and tell her they are from all of us.
More are coming, do you have enough vases?
I will send more just in case.
“I’ll need a truck,” I mutter, and Rogue’s face scrunches up.
“You need a what?”
“A truck, Rogue. Does anyone have a truck?”
“I do.” Turning to the side, I see Marco, our delivery driver, smiling as he hands me the keys. “I’m done for the night, just have her back here by morning.”
“Thank you.”
It takes over an hour and a half for me to load the truck, though another delivery came while I was packing up the flowers, so I made the driver load those up too. There is barely any room left for me to close the doors, and Bruce helps me push so I can engage the lock. Then I leave it parked in the lot while I go back to work.
For my entire shift, I watch the clock as the hours drag by, which makes my anger reach its breaking point. Rogue lets me clock off at midnight, and I race straight out to the truck.
The entire drive to the island, I try to figure out my plan, but by the time the bridge comes into view, I still have no idea. All I know is they can have the damn things back; I don’t want them.
The gates are open, and I drive straight in and park. Jumping down from the driver’s side, I walk around and open the back doors. A few bouquets fall onto the ground, and I smile.
I pull out bunches, throwing them onto the ground. Some don’t go far—they are heavy fuckers—but others make it to the entrance of the alley.
I build up a satisfying rhythm, picking them up and throwing them, and though I hear movement, I don’t stop.
While I’m grabbing another bunch, the first personappears—it’s Vero—and I launch flowers at his head. He catches them and looks fucking happy about it. That only infuriates me more, so I hurl another bouquet at him, but he jumps out of the way. The other three show up and stop behind Vero. Each one is still dressed in costume, and that makes my chest hurt in a way I was not expecting. It’s like they’ve moved on in less than a week.
Assholes.
“Fuck you!” I yell at Clay and pitch a bunch at him. “You choked me and almost killed me.” Then I pick up the biggest bunch I can see. “And fuck you for beating up an entire bar and thinking flowers would fix that.”