Like Gravity(31)

“Yes.”

“I went through a big roses phase when I was helping my sister plan her wedding floral arrangements. Black roses aren’t good, Brookie. They usually mean—”

“Death,” I cut her off. “I know.”

“What are you going to do?” she asked.

“I think I’m going to call the police,” I said, feeling paranoid and foolish but not knowing what else to do.

“I’ll be right there,” she said, disconnecting the call before I could protest.

Within minutes, the front door opened and Lexi’s running footsteps could be heard as she made her way to my bedroom. Throwing open my door, she launched herself onto my bed and wrapped her arms around me. I was so stunned that I didn’t even have time to return her hug before she was pulling back to examine my face.

“Are you okay?” she asked, concern flickering in her blue eyes.

“I’m fine,” I shrugged. “Just a little freaked out I guess.”

“Where are they?”

I nodded in the direction of my trash can, and Lexi leapt off my bed to investigate the sinister bouquet. After a few minutes, she returned to sit on the bed.

“There was no note?”

“No.”

“Have you called the police yet?”

“I was waiting for you,” I lied. Truthfully, I’d nearly talked myself out of calling. It was probably just a stupid prank. Creepy? Yes. Life-threatening? No. Plus, what could the police do at this point?

“Brooklyn Grace Turner,” Lexi glared at me, easily seeing through my lie. “We are calling them. Right. Now.” She whipped out her cellphone and dialed the non-emergency number for the local police. As soon as it began to ring, she offered the phone to me.

“Charlottesville Police Station, how can I help you?”

“Um, hi. My name is Brooklyn Turner and I’m calling to report… I guess we’ve had a break in.”

“You guess?” The man sounded exasperated. “Ma’am, if this isn’t a serious call I’m going to have to hang up.”

“Well, I came home this afternoon and there was a bouquet of black roses sitting in my bedroom. I have no idea how they got there, nor does my roommate. The apartment was locked. And there was no note.”

“I’ll send someone over to check it out and talk to you. What’s the address?”

After rattling off our street name and house number, I was assured that an officer would arrive shortly. I handed Lexi’s phone back to her and she quickly grabbed my arm and towed me into the living room.

To my surprise, Tyler and Finn were sitting on our couch, talking quietly. Their conversation stopped and they both looked up as we entered the room. My eyes met Finn’s and quickly skittered away. I had no idea what to say to him after last night. Before I could move further into the room, Finn was on his feet and standing in front of me, his hands gently clasping my forearm and examining the smattering of dark bruises that Gordon’s hands had left behind.

I looked up into his eyes, which had clouded over with rage. Seeing the anger there, I tried to tug my arm from his grasp but he held fast.

“I’ll kill him,” he growled through clenched teeth. I’d never seen him so furious and I definitely didn’t like it.

“I’m fine, Finn. It’s no big deal, so please relax.”

“No big deal? Are you kidding me, Brooklyn?” Finn dropped my arm and began to pace around the living room. “He put his hands on you. You have f*cking bruises! Please explain what part of that is not a big f*cking deal!” He was yelling now, running his hands through his hair in exasperation. Abruptly, he turned back to face me.

“It is never okay for someone to put his hands on you like that. Please tell me you know that.”

“I do,” I said somewhat meekly. I hadn’t realized how much the sight of my bruises upset him. “But really, they don’t hurt anymore. And you took care of him last night.”

“I’d like to do a lot more than mess up his pretty face,” Finn muttered, evidently contemplating Gordon’s murder. To calm him, I placed both of my palms against his cheeks and turned his face toward mine. He startled, clearly surprised by my touch, but as soon as his eyes met mine he seemed to relax.

“Thank you for last night,” I said, holding his gaze. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been there.”

He pulled in a deep breath and closed his eyes. “You don’t need to thank me.”

A knock at sounded loudly at the door and I dropped my hands from Finn’s face. Lexi pulled open the door, revealing a middle-aged police officer with a beer-gut, a graying beard, and a receding salt-and-pepper hairline.

“I’m Officer Carlson. I’ll be taking your statements and looking around the place for any signs of a break in. Can one of you tell me what happened?”

Lexi got the officer a glass of water and I sat on the couch with him discussing the flowers and their mysterious arrival. After jotting down my statement in a small black notebook, he followed me into my bedroom and examined the bouquet lying in my wastebasket.

“Well,” he drawled, scratching his protruding belly, “It’d have been better if you hadn’t touched them, of course, but I can take them back to the station and see if we can lift any prints off ‘em. It’s doubtful, though. Flowers aren’t exactly ideal for fingerprinting.” He snorted, evidently amusing himself.