Page 53 of Bittersweet Revenge

“Okay, but here,” Archie came closer and extended me $300. “Just use this okay? Don’t use his card.”

I looked down at the money in my hands. I knew we were rich, but he’d just handed over $300 like Luke would have handed me a fiver.

I nodded. “Okay, thank you.”

“You know you’ll have to tell the truth eventually,” I told Taylor as we entered the antique and second-hand shop.

She shrugged, looking at some old coins in a case as if they were the most fascinating thing she’d ever seen. “I have a plan. It won’t be forever, only until graduation.”

“Why?”

She shrugged again. “I’m going away to college.”

“Uh huh…” I trailed off, knowing there was something more. “One way or another you’ll have to ‘break-up’.”

“Yeah, we’ve not yet figured out that part. Why is it so important?”

It was my turn to shrug and walk around the small, stuffy store. It smelled like mothballs, making my nose itch. “I know I’m a source of trouble for their group, but this relationship is tearing them apart and it’s hurting my brother. I know you probably have every reason to do that and frankly, based on how he treated me when I first got here, I know he’s no saint, but I’m just very conflicted at being in the middle, knowing that one word from me could make it hurt less for him.”

She stopped walking and turned toward me. “I understand that and it makes me feel guilty. Believe it or not, I don't enjoy seeing him suffer, not at all. I just need him to stay away, but I am not as strong as I thought I was. I sunk back while you were away and he was trying to get back into my life and, just for a minute, I was that girl again, standing on the edge of a bridge looking down at the dark water, contemplating…” She shook her head as she picked up a creepy-looking doll from the counter.

“Tay, did you try to–” I couldn’t imagine my friend in such a state of despair that she would contemplate ending her life.

“I really don't want to talk about it, any of it. Not now and probably not ever. I’m sorry it leaves you in the dark for a part of my life and maybe Archie will grow balls and tell you himself, but I won’t.”

I nodded. “Okay.” Her voice had been even, but her mouth was tight and her back straight. She was poised, trying to avoid making a scene.

I pulled her into a side hug and kissed the side of her face. “It’s okay. Do what you need to do to protect yourself. I understand.” And boy did I understand. Every day I was fighting my growing feelings for the wannabe sociopath sharing my life.

“What do you think of those wigs?” I pointed to the horrendous synthetic pieces on the plastic mannequin's head. “Do you think we need these for our disguises?”

She snorted. “I’ll be caught dead before trying these flea-infested head rugs. No offence,” she added when she met the eyes of the glaring clerk.

I gave the woman a sheepish smile. Parting from Taylor, I looked more closely around the store for something to buy. I felt guilty now for insulting her store so I was going to find something, anything really, to restore some karma points.

I picked up a couple of random items before stopping dead in front of a small velvety box that was holding a pair of angel-wings cufflinks. They seemed to be silver and vintage. They were small enough to not look too ostentatious. What shook me was that I didn't want to buy them for my brother, but the icy young man I was engaged to.

I turned to look for Taylor and found her going through vinyl records, too engrossed to notice my stupid weakness.

“Excuse me. How much for those?” I pointed at the cufflinks through the glass casing.

The woman walked toward me, her scowl still quite present on her face. I couldn't really blame her. We had just insulted her store.

“These are 1920s vintage sterling silver gothic wing cufflinks.”

“Yes.” I leaned down. The details were perfect. The wings were open in flight, giving them a steampunk vibe. “I love them. How much?”

The woman looked at me, trying to figure how much she could milk from me. “$100.”

I sighed, looking at the cufflinks again before turning to Taylor. She had four vinyls under her arm and was going through the last rack. I had minutes before she came to join me and question the very masculine gift which was not destined for my brother.

“Fine,'' I told the woman, resting the few other items on the display case. “I’ll take them and these too.”

I was just getting my $22.95 change from the $200 I gave the woman, when Taylor appeared with her pile of vinyls.

“I didn't know you were into classics,” I admitted, looking at the woman ringing each one. “Queen, Abba, Lionel Richie... Quite eclectic.”

She smiled, running her hand over the cover of Queen’s ‘News Of The World’ album. “They’re not for me; they’re for my dad. It’s our thing. I know I’m quite into modern stuff, but dad is a crazy music buff and he passed it on to me. We went through his vinyl collection together. He had more than eight hundred, you know? All in the basement music room. I’ll show it to you sometime. So now when I go out, I look to get some more. We will probably listen to them tonight together in the music room.”

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