Read Online Love Is Red by Sophie Jaff - Free Book Online

them up and then stop. They’re all heads up.
    Find a penny, pick it up, and all day long you’ll have good luck.
    It would be better to leave them here and bring Lucas tomorrow and show him, remind him about the “always knock” rule. I’ll tell Andrea if necessary, but I don’t think it will come to that. He’s not doing any harm, they’re probably a gift or a surprise, but he needs to learn that he can’t come in here without asking. Still,it’s a sweet gesture. I smile, thinking about sweet gestures as I put my lipstick back on my dresser and wander to the window to look out at the rainy night.
    There, at the far corner of the street, in front of the darkened windows of the Colombian coffee shop, a woman stands looking back at me.
    She is naked. Her shoulder-length hair looks red, though it’s hard to tell in the rainy night. She stands still, staring up at my window. Her face is expressionless. Her eyes are blank. There are strange lines curving down her neck to just above her breasts. More marks down her left side, concentric circles crossed with jagged lines. They aren’t tattoos; the lines run red in the rain.
    There’s a naked, bleeding woman standing in the rain.
    Fuck. What do I do? Oh fuck. Should I leave my apartment and go to her? What do I do? What if she’s crazy? What if she has a knife? Is it a joke? Or is it a massive stunt to get me outside in the rain? There’s a television show called What Would You Do? The show puts actors in all sorts of situations, pretending to faint or pretending to mug someone or drug someone’s drink, and there are hidden cameras around to film people’s reactions.
    I have to do something. Jesus. There is no one around. Like when that woman in the 1960s was attacked and although she screamed and screamed no one did anything about it. I could wake Andrea. Andrea is more capable. Andrea is fierce and a single mother and tough. She would know what to do. But of course even I know what to do. I must phone the police.
    I can’t find it. Where is it, where the hell is my phone?
    The woman hasn’t moved. Hasn’t moved a muscle. Where is everyone?
    Catatonic. That’s it. That’s what the word is, “catatonic.” She must have just been attacked. I’ll call the police and then I’ll go out and help her. I have to do something. I have to.
    The woman stares right at me. Her eyes are dead.
    I dial. I think I’m going to throw up. The phone rings and then a voice, neutral, bland, competent, asks, “Hello, what is your emergency?”
    I try to speak but nothing comes out.
    â€œHello, what is your emergency?”
    My chest forces up something cracked and whispery, a single breath. “Hello?”
    â€œHello, what is your—”
    â€œThere’s a woman outside my building.” My words come out in an exhaled rush.
    â€œMa’am, slow down, please.”
    â€œShe’s naked and I think she’s bleeding and she’s just—” My words pour out in a torrent. There’s a ringing in my ears.
    â€œSlow down, ma’am, you say there’s a woman outside your building?”
    â€œYes.”
    The voice sharpens. “Hello, ma’am? Is she breathing?”
    I look outside.
    â€œHello, ma’am, can you describe the woman?”
    There’s no one there.
    â€œMa’am? Hello?”
    No one is there. I speak through numb lips. “I’m sorry, I must have made a mistake.”
    â€œMa’am? Hel—”
    I hang up.
    There is nothing there but the rain and the darkness.
    My legs are shaky. I collapse down onto the bed.
    I must have imagined it.
    I must have imagined it.
    I must have ima—
    The woman was naked. Naked, staring straight at me, her red hair hanging in dark wet clumps.
    I probably just need sleep. I wish Andrea were awake. I wish I had someone with me. This is why I don’t want to be alone anymore. My