Saving Rose Red

by Maggie Dallen

  Saving Rose Red

  Barely a Fairy Tale #3

  Maggie Dallen

  Copyright © 2019 by Maggie Dallen

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Image © DepositPhotos – AllaSerebrina

  Cover Design © Designed with Grace

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Epilogue

  Enchanting the Beast

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  The Brooklyn angel was back. Cole Michaels recognized her the moment she entered his tattoo shop. With her pink hair, she didn’t exactly blend in, but he could have picked her out of a lineup no matter what color her hair was. Last time he’d seen her she’d been bartending at the dive bar around the corner and she’d been a blonde with blue streaks in her hair. That had been months ago and he’d started to think the neighborhood angel had moved away.

  But here she was, perusing the tattoo sketches hanging on the wall of the dingy shop as if she’d never left. As if she belonged there. A camera dangled from her neck and bangle bracelets clinked as she moved, announcing her presence. Her gaze was focused on the artwork so he was free to gawk to his heart’s content, something he wouldn’t normally do.

  He’d done his best to ignore her back when he saw her roaming their Brooklyn neighborhood on a daily basis. But ignoring her was close to impossible. It wasn’t just her hair color that set her apart—it was that smile. That gorgeous, easygoing, impossibly friendly smile. The one she gave everyone, as far as he could tell. From the dive bar’s cranky old barfly to the thugs with barely concealed guns who hung out in the parking lot across from his shop.

  But he had no business looking at the angel, let alone talking to her. He couldn’t afford to form relationships. Being undercover was hard enough without having to lie to sweet girls like her. Or worse, getting her involved with the lowlifes he was forced to consort with. It was better for everyone if he kept his distance.

  But that didn’t stop him from looking. After so many months, he soaked in the sight of her like a dying man gasping for his last breath. It might have been ridiculous for a grown man to have a crush from afar, but he’d come to think of her as the one ray of sunshine in his otherwise dark life. When he’d stopped seeing her around, he’d told himself he should be glad she’d gotten out of this neighborhood. Maybe she’d gotten a better job, or met a nice guy. He told himself he was happy she’d left, but seeing her here, now…he was glad to see her. For the first time in a long time he was able to breathe.

  His boss, Stuart, the owner of the tattoo parlor, came out from the back and joined him behind the counter. Stu spotted her a second later. “Andie! Good to see you, girl.”

  She turned in their direction and the full force of her smile was aimed in their direction. Cole froze. He stopped breathing. Heck, if his nervous system wasn’t on automatic, his heart probably would have stopped beating.

  “Stu,” she said, her voice soft and unbelievably sweet. “So good to see you.”

  The burly biker who terrified most grown men gave her a goofy grin. “Glad you’re back in the hood.”

  Her gaze flickered from Stu to him and to his amazement her smile never faltered, despite the fact that he was wearing a scowl that tended to intimidate the most hardened criminals. It was official—either this girl was the nicest person on the planet or she was an idiot who didn’t know enough to be scared of him.

  “I’ve seen you around,” she said to him, coming closer with her hand extended. “But I don’t think we’ve ever been properly introduced.”

  “This is Dagger,” Stu said.

  “Dagger,” she repeated, her eyes crinkling up at the edges as if the nickname delighted her. She somehow made Dagger sound like Fluffy or Toto. “I’m Andie.”

  I know. He managed a “hi” that came out gruffer than usual, making his already low voice sound like he was doing his best villain impersonation. He stared at her proffered hand for a moment before taking it in his and dropping it just as quickly. But not quickly enough. Great, now he’d have a memory of how that slim, warm hand had felt in his burned into his brain. His infatuation was bad enough without knowing exactly how soft her skin was.

  “I love this new art,” she said, turning her back on him for a moment and giving him a chance to regain his bearings. She was looking at the newest work, the sketches he’d done. Way back in his teens he’d gotten into tattoo art and had apprenticed with some guys in his old neighborhood. It had turned into a hobby when he went into the military and then a good cover when he became a cop. But the way she was looking at it now made him wonder why he hadn’t just stuck with tattoos and left the scum of the earth for someone else to deal with. Maybe then he’d be chatting her up and not standing there like a lump as she looked through his designs.

  “That’s all Dagger,” Stu said. The ever-present guilt that gnawed at his gut intensified into a stabbing pain at the obvious pride in the older man’s voice. Since Stu had hired him almost six months ago, he’d treated him as more of a son than an employee. And in return, Cole had done nothing but lie to him and use his connections to get himself in with the Corada gang who ran the drugs in this neighborhood.

  It was all part of the job. But even after years in this line of work, lying to good people never got easier. Another reason it was best if he stayed far, far away from this woman who practically wore a sign that read innocent and optimistic. Two words no one would ever use to describe him, not even back when he’d first joined the military. People like her had always been a bit of a mystery to him. Maybe that was the fascination.

  She turned back to him with that megawatt smile and her blue eyes were lit up with appreciation. “You’re really talented. Will you do my next tattoo?”

  He had not been expecting that. Before he could shut it down, his mind went down a deliciously dirty path thinking of all the body parts she might want tattooed. “Sure. What were you thinking?”

  She turned her back to him and looked over her shoulder. With one hand she yanked down the shoulder of her T-shirt and leather jacket, revealing one slim shoulder and impossibly creamy skin. He saw the tail end of what looked like an ivy tattoo but he couldn’t make out the rest. “I want to add to this one,” she said. “I’m thinking a red rose.”

  As far as he knew his expression didn’t change. He hadn’t done much more than frown since she’d walked in. But she hurried on, “I know, I know. It’s a little boring, right? But it has significance. See, I just found my family. I was put up for adoption at birth and a couple months ago I found my parents and half-sister.”

  He couldn’t bring himself to look away from her animated features. To be caught in the tsunami of personal information pouring out of her mouth was surprising. Humbling, even. Why was she telling him this? He was basically a stranger. A large, tattoo-covered, scowling stranger who’d barely said two words to her.

  He was dimly aware of Stu heading to the back office but he couldn’t look away. Her blue eyes were fixed on him and her level of excitement was…well, it was charming.

  “And my half-sister has this ex-stepsister, right? I know, it’s a little convoluted. Anyway, my former stepsister has this thing with fairy tales and she keeps calling me Rose Red and I just thought—”

  She was cut
off by the door opening and two men walking in.

  For the second time that day, Cole froze. All thoughts about the charming pink-haired angel came to a halt as his cop instincts kicked in. One of the men was tall, slender, and so well put together he looked like he’d just stepped off the pages of a J. Crew catalogue. In khakis and a cable-knit sweater, topped with a tweed blazer, the clean-cut, dark-haired man oozed wealth and power. And well he should, this man and his family owned half of Brooklyn.

  He was also the reason Cole had been working undercover all these months. Rumor had it that this man was the reason the drug trade in this area had picked up recently. About two years ago, the Corada gang had gone from small-time drug pushers to a small empire. Odds were that the Coradas didn’t suddenly become financially savvy business whizzes overnight, and sources had leaked that Anthony Gallagher had extended the family business from their mildly shady dealings in development to outright criminal dealings in the drug world.

  And now here he stood with one of his lackeys at his side. After months of making contacts with the Coradas and working himself up in the ranks in the hopes of getting some solid evidence that they were being funded by Anthony, the man walks right into his tattoo shop. What were the odds?

  The reason for his visit quickly became apparent. Anthony smiled, revealing shockingly white teeth. “Well, well. So we meet again.”

  He was talking to Andie, of course. Anthony had yet to glance over at Cole. He’d bet his entire life savings that this pretty boy had zero interest in getting a tattoo. His eyes were glued to Andie and his gaze never wavered—neither did his cocky smile.

  He’d hated this guy on principle before, but now? His hands clenched at his side as he envisioned beating that face to a bloody pulp.

  Andie returned his smile—of course she did. The woman seemed to love everyone. And it was also possible that she couldn’t see past the preppy, pleasant-looking exterior to the criminal beneath.

  In fact, if an unsuspecting casting director were to walk in on this scene, Anthony would surely be cast as the leading hero and Cole would most likely be the scary villain sent to rain down vengeance or something. He definitely wouldn’t be the one paired with the innocent ingénue. Guys like him didn’t get the girl.

  But a smarmy punk-in-disguise like Anthony shouldn’t get the girl either.

  Anthony walked toward Andie, his hands tucked in his pockets in an unassuming, casual sort of way. As if this guy made a habit of following women into tattoo parlors.

  “Hey, didn’t I see you down by the park earlier? You were taking pictures, right?”

  Andie’s face lit up. Just when he thought she couldn’t get any more beautiful. But the fact that she’d lit up for some other man took some of the pleasure out of it.

  “Yeah, that was me,” she said.

  Anthony glanced down at the camera hanging around her neck as his lackey made himself invisible, roaming around feigning interest in the art on the walls. “So you’re a photographer?” Anthony asked.

  Andie looked down at her camera. “Amateur photographer.”

  If it was possible, Anthony’s grin grew smarmier by the second. “I’d love to see your photos sometime.”

  Ugh. Of all the terrible come-ons.

  He watched in disgust as Anthony sidled up beside her as if they would share a cozy moment looking at her photos in his shop. No, thank you.

  Then the jerk asked her for her number. Just like that. Like he had every right to ask out a nice girl like her. Like he wasn’t a drug lord—all right, alleged drug lord, with more skeletons in his closet than yuppie suits.

  And she gave it to him, spouting out her digits with a smile. Of course with a smile. When the douchebag reached for her phone so he could enter his contact information, Cole lost his patience.

  That was it. He was putting an end to this disaster waiting to happen. He wouldn’t let this angel fall into the devil’s hands, not on his watch.

  “Sorry, guys, we’re closing up soon. This lady is our last customer of the day.”

  Anthony looked up at him and a flicker of anger marred that perfect friendly facade. “C’mon, man, we won’t stay long.”

  It was the tone that did it. That entitled, spoiled, overgrown-frat-boy tone. The one that made it seem like they were old friends. And while he did need to get close to this guy, watching him hit on the girl of his dreams was not what he’d had in mind.

  No, when he got close to Anthony it would be to slap a pair of cuffs on him. In the meantime…

  “Sorry, man. The owner is strict about not letting people hang out in the shop after hours.” He’d heard Stuart slip out the back a little while ago but they had no way of knowing that, and no one wanted to get on Stu’s bad side. Not if they had a brain. As he spoke, he headed out from behind the counter and in their direction.

  He didn’t have to take more than two steps before Anthony and his goon started backing up toward the door. Taller than average and with a muscular build, Cole tended to have that effect on people. They got out of his way. Steered clear.

  Everyone except for Andie, apparently. She smiled up at him as he drew near and escorted her wannabe suitor out the front door. When they were out on the street, he locked the front door, meeting Anthony’s stare as he did.

  Great work, officer. He’d gone from lowlife lackey on the Corada gang food chain to the top of Anthony Gallagher’s enemies list. How was he going to explain this to Eddie, his partner at the police department? He’d better find a better way to spin it or he’d never live it down.

  I had Anthony right in front of me but, you see, he was talking to this girl...

  Yeah, that would not fly. But Anthony was dangerous—more dangerous than the brutes who ran the Corada gang. He was the wolf in sheep’s clothing, the serpent in disguise. He was the kind of bad guy who gave bad guys a bad name. He hid behind his family’s money and power as he gave this neighborhood the finger and flooded it with new drugs.

  He was bad news, and the fact that he seemed to have his sights set on Andie made him want to throw his fist through a wall. There was no way he’d let that happen.

  Andie’s voice behind him brought him back to the present. “Thanks for letting me stick around. I promise I won’t take up too much of your time. I really just wanted to take a look at some designs but I can book an appointment for later this week.”

  He tried for a smile and failed. Funny how some muscles refused to work when they hadn’t been used in a while. For all his weightlifting, the muscles in his cheeks refused to so much as twitch. “It’s no trouble. Stay as long as you’d like.”

  That seemed to be her signal to make herself at home. Before he could put some distance between them, she came over to his side and pulled her camera over her head. “Hang on, I took pictures of some rose graphics I liked. Do you mind giving me your opinion?”

  He didn’t have a chance to respond before she was talking again. “The camera is new—it’s nice, right? My new mother gave it to me. Well, she’s not my new mother, just new to me.”

  As she spoke she turned on her camera and started scrolling back through her pictures. She’d clearly been on a roll before she came into the shop. He recognized shots of the neighborhood. Close-ups of interesting graffiti tags, a long shot of kids playing at the run-down playground behind the church. An alley filled with makeshift box homes. They were stunning, really. Somehow she made these mundane, dirty places look beautiful.

  That’s what he thought. What he said was, “Not bad.” It came out as a mumble but she must have heard because she looked up at him with a beaming smile.

  “Thanks. I’m working on my photography skills.”

  She started talking a million miles per hour again, about her hobby, the subjects she chose. It was interesting, but his attention was caught by something else. She flipped through so quickly he could have been mistaken.

  Maybe he was just being paranoid. That wasn’t rare among undercover cops. Paranoia had a tendency
to keep him alive. But this…

  “Can I see that?” Without waiting for an answer, he took the camera from her hands and started scrolling back to a picture she’d just passed.

  There it was.

  Oh man. The bottom of his stomach dropped out as he spotted a familiar face. Two familiar faces. Anthony Gallagher and Cisco Hedron, the leader of the Corada gang. The picture wasn’t of them—it was a side view of the playground, taken from the alley behind the church. They weren’t the focus of the shot but they were in it, in the background off to the side. Talking to one another. One other person was there too. A man in a suit but his back was to the camera. He started to zoom in when Andie’s voice stopped him.

  “The rose graphics are on there somewhere, I swear.” She reached a hand out, silently asking for it back.

  Unless he wanted to explain exactly why he was so fascinated with a shot that could potentially break his case wide open, he’d have to hand it over. But he needed that picture. If he could get it to his buddies at the department, they might be able to figure out who the third player was. A picture of Anthony talking to Cisco wasn’t enough to condemn him, but it was telling nonetheless. One of the reasons their relationship worked so well is that no one could connect them. Cole couldn’t and he’d been hunting for a connection for months.

  But this… this was a step in the right direction. And that third player might just be the information he needed.

  Andie kept scrolling through, talking all the while. She didn’t seem to notice that he’d stopped listening, or that he was watching her camera like it might run off on its own.

  He had to get his hands on that photo before Anthony did.

  The puzzle pieces clicked into place and he bit back a groan. Of course. He should have seen it instantly. That was why Anthony had come in here. That was why he’d hit on Andie.