by Vivian Wood
She blushed scarlet, looking away. He leaned forward to kiss her shoulder.
“Your end of the deal is this: you’re mine to do with what I want. You don’t get to say no, because then I’ll have your brother arrested again and thrown in jail for the rest of his life.” Johnny’s voice had hardened with each word, until Rose wanted to jump off the couch and run.
Fear coursed through her, until the wine in her glass splashed onto her thigh.
“What do you say?” he asked, his voice quiet yet lethal. “Yourself, or your brother? Your dear, dear brother, who took care of you when no one else would.”
She knew what her answer was. What it had to be. Setting the wineglass on the table in front of her, she began to take her hair down from its braid.
And Johnny smiled.
She awoke with a scream lodged in her throat. She always did. The scream could never be let out, because Johnny wanted that. He wanted her to scream.
Her head in her hands, she whispered the litany she told herself whenever she had this nightmare.
You’re free. You’re here. He’s gone. He’s not going to hurt you anymore.
If only that were true.
Callie followed her into the bathroom. Rose washed her face and considered taking a shower, but decided she’d rather sit and watch Bob Ross to soothe herself.
It was ridiculous, but she loved Bob Ross’s voice, his happy little trees. Only joy could be found in his paintings, those hotel paintings of landscapes. Rose sometimes considered taking up painting, but she had a feeling her paintings wouldn’t be full of happy little trees.
They’d be full of darkness, and shadows, and things better left buried six feet under.
She heard a noise next door, and the reminder of Seth Thornton made her pull her blanket closer around her shoulders. She almost laughed. What would he think about what she’d done? The deal she’d made with the devil to save her brother?
She thought of the kiss, the way he’d said her name. She wanted him to touch her as much as she wanted him to leave her alone.
Seth would think she was a fool, most likely. She knew very well how stupid she’d been. She’d thought she was being brave and honorable and saving her brother, but what did it mean when you sacrificed your own well-being for someone you loved? You lost yourself in the process.
So one person dies, anyway. Maybe not physically, but spiritually. Part of her had died that moment Johnny had touched her.
She pushed the memories aside. Callie pushed her nose against her palm, giving doggy comfort. Rose smiled. She didn’t cry—not anymore. She’d cried enough for five people.
All she wanted to do was repay Johnny the money he had spent to get Heath’s name free and clear. And then she’d get a life of her own.
She fell asleep to the sounds of Bob Ross painting a mountain, and her dreams weren’t nightmares this time. They were just as unsettling, however.
She was in Seth’s apartment—she didn’t know what it looked like, but her imagination supplied shadowy pieces of furniture. The walls were bright colors, which she thought was strange.
Then Seth emerged from his room without a shirt, and although she’d never seen him shirtless, she knew her imagination wasn’t overblown here. He was cut like a Greek god, and her mouth went dry with sheer lust.
When he touched her hair, tipping her head back, she didn’t hesitate. She closed her eyes as he kissed her. It was like the kiss outside, yet it wasn’t. It possessed an intensity that shocked her to the tips of her toes. She moaned as he thrust his tongue inside her mouth, licking and searching, and she wished he was inside of her in other ways. She wanted him to make her forget.
He picked her up and carried her to his room, never breaking the kiss. When they fell onto his bed together, she laughed, but then they were both naked—as dreams tended to do, without any logical reason—and when he pushed her legs apart, she wanted to protest. She couldn’t move or speak. She gripped his hair as he touched her, torn between what she wanted and what she feared.
And when he had almost pushed inside her, he disappeared into a mist, leaving her all alone.
She awoke a second time with her heart pounding and her entire body on edge. With a sigh of resignation, she touched her heated sex, not surprised by the slickness she found there. And as she came against her fingers in mere moments, Seth’s name trembled on her lips.
Chapter Seven
“Why did I agree to get up this early just to see you?” Rose joked as she barely stifled a wide yawn.
Heath grinned. “It’s only nine a.m.”
“You’re a morning person, I’m not.” She yawned again, and Heath laughed.
Rose had agreed to meet Heath for coffee that Sunday at The Rise and Shine, the bakery Megan Thornton—née Flannigan—owned and ran. Rose had only been here a few times; working at The Fainting Goat, she tended to get up late and return home in the wee hours of the morning.
“I’m not a morning person,” Heath replied, “but I’ve been getting up early for work so many years now that I can’t break the habit.”
“I’ve never had that problem.”
“Why does that not shock me?”
Rose stuck out her tongue right as Jubilee Thornton placed their two coffees and muffins in front of them. “Cinnamon latte for you,” she said as she handed the drink to Rose, “and a latte with an extra shot for you. Just how you like it,” she said to Heath.
Rose suddenly felt more awake than she had been just a second ago. So not only did her brother come here often enough for Jubilee to know his order, but she made a point to remember said order.
“I heated up your muffins, too,” Jubilee said. She blushed at Heath’s eyebrow raise.
“Oh, you didn’t need to,” he said, but at her embarrassed expression, he added hastily, “Thank you, though.”
Rose watched as she was completely ignored by her brother and by Jubilee, who both seemed to have stepped into their own little world. What was it about these Thorntons? Rose mused. She began to eat her muffin in silence, the warm, buttery sweetness almost making her moan out loud.
Jubilee tucked a tendril of her dark hair behind her ear. She was a beautiful girl, with her dark hair and creamy skin. She looked like her siblings, although she was smaller than her brothers and sister. Rose had only run into Jubilee a few times, and it was difficult not to like her, with her infectious smile and sweet manner.
Right now, that smile had fled, and Jubilee seemed at a loss for words. To Rose’s immense amusement, her brother’s cheeks were slightly red.
She tossed a large bite of muffin into her mouth, chewed, and decided to give them a reprieve.
“These muffins are amazing,” Rose said. “Do you make them or does Megan?”
“Megan, for the most part, but I help. I made this batch, actually.”
“I wish I could bake. I just burn things or set off the smoke alarm.”
Heath seemed to shake off his trance. “Didn’t you set a quesadilla on fire once when we were kids?”
“I was ten!”
“Yeah, but who sets a quesadilla on fire?”
Jubilee laughed, and it sounded like bells tinkling. If she weren’t so nice, Rose would almost be liable to hate her. She had a distinct feeling Jubilee Thornton had never had to deal with anything terrible in her whole life. She’d lived a cushy existence, with her beautiful, rich family.
“I’ll let you two go. Enjoy.” Jubilee sent one last shy smile toward Heath before she left them to eat in silence.
Rose wanted to grill Heath about Jubilee, but her brother had a sixth sense when it came to what she was thinking. Before she could say a word, he asked, “How’s work? Your apartment?”
She heard the words your new neighbor underneath the question. Tearing apart her muffin, she said, “Good. Fine. Nothing much to tell. Trent threw out a guy last night who got so drunk that he tried to kiss Lizzie, thinking she was his ex-girlfriend.”
Heath’s eyes widened. �
��Shit.”
“Yeah, shit. Lizzie was laughing because the guy was so trashed, and he fell down in front of her before he could touch her. But Trent was pissed.” She shook her head. “Never mess with the boss’s wife.”
“But that’s it? Nothing else to tell?”
She wanted to laugh, but it would probably turn into a sob. She wished she could tell Heath everything about Johnny, and about how he’d given her a deadline to “make up her mind.” A shiver went down her spine.
She wanted to tell him, and yet… looking at him now, seeing how he cared for her, would he still want her once he knew the truth? Heath tended to see things as very black and white. If he knew what his baby sister had done for him…
She didn’t want to think about it.
So she forced a smile onto her face and replied, “When I’m not working, I walk Callie. Or read. I should probably learn how to cook. Can you die from eating ramen noodles too much?”
That made Heath frown. “Rose, if you need help—”
She held up a hand. “I’m fine. I’m joking.” Leaning toward him, she said, “I have a question for you.”
“Do I want to know?”
“Yes. Well, I want to know. What was that all about?” She gestured toward the direction Jubilee had gone.
Heath feigned ignorance. “What was what about?”
“Oh, come on. You, Jubilee Thornton. Those heart-eyes between you. It was like some anime.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, because there’s nothing between us. She’s my best friend’s little sister.”
“Because you’re so old?” She rolled her eyes. “You’re not even thirty. She’s not some girl fresh out of high school. It wouldn’t be creepy.”
“Thank you,” he said wryly. Then he sobered. “Even then, there’s nothing there. Don’t make mountains out of molehills.”
“Now, that’s unfair—”
“Leave it, Rose.” At her shocked look, he added more kindly, “It’s nothing. Even if there is something, nothing could happen. End of story.”
She wanted to point out that that made zero sense, but she knew when to leave things well enough alone. When they’d been younger, she would’ve teased him mercilessly until he’d finally lost his temper, which was rare for him.
Heath had always been the calm one, the capable one. He’d kept a roof over their heads after their parents had died. Their father had been killed in a car accident when Rose had only been three, while their mother had died of breast cancer when Rose was fourteen. The only fortunate part of their mother’s death had been that she’d died after Heath had turned eighteen and could become Rose’s guardian. Rose had been terrified that they’d be placed in foster care when they’d learned of their mother’s diagnosis.
Heath had worked odd jobs, and although they didn’t always have enough to eat, they’d persevered. With some scrimping and saving, along with Rose insisting that she contribute, Heath had been able to go to the University of Washington to get his teaching degree, a dream he’d had since he’d been a child.
Then Johnny—and everything that had come along with him—had happened.
Rose gazed at her muffin and felt sick to her stomach. Her latte was too sweet now, and the muffin was like a ball of lead.
“Do you remember when I brought home those four kittens?” she said, desperate to lighten the mood.
Heath grinned. “Yes, and you refused to let me take them to the shelter.”
“They would’ve put them to sleep!”
“They were mangy little things covered in fleas.”
“They were adorable.”
They reminisced as the morning passed, talking about only the happy memories. They never talked about Heath’s arrest, or about when Rose had disappeared and refused to talk to Heath for years. They didn’t talk about the difficult things, because sometimes you need a respite from the shadows of the past.
Or perhaps, Rose thought sadly, they were both too scared to be honest with each other.
“When do you have to go back to work?” she asked as she finished up her latte. They’d talked so much it had gotten cold.
“Not until mid-August, mostly for meetings. The kids don’t come back until after Labor Day.” He smiled, and Rose’s heart constricted. She’d missed seeing Heath with his first class and hearing about it all.
Heath had always wanted to be a teacher, ever since his favorite teacher ever, Mrs. Dunby, had inspired him in the fourth grade. Heath had a patience with kids that Rose admired; she certainly didn’t have it.
“I can’t imagine teaching fifth graders,” she said. “That just seems so young.”
“Not that young. It’s better than kindergarten: at least in fifth grade, everyone’s potty-trained and mostly capable of holding a conversation.”
They laughed, and Heath told her about how he’d started taking his class on nature walks around Fair Haven, pointing out local flora and fauna. The kids had loved it, and everyone looked forward to having Mr. DiMarco for fifth grade. It helped that he was handsome: the girls all loved him and would blush when he’d smile at them.
“I’m glad you’re happy. You were meant to be a teacher.” Rose smiled as Heath rubbed his neck in embarrassment.
“It almost didn’t happen.” He seemed far away right then, and she knew they were both thinking about how it had almost ended so quickly. She closed her eyes for a brief second before pushing away the memories.
Heath walked Rose home a few hours later, neither of them saying much. The sun shone brightly, the trees bursting with color. Rose watched a seagull glide across the sky before landing unceremoniously on the corner of an apartment complex’s dumpster.
She laughed. “What did you used to call seagulls?”
Heath looked a little startled. She wondered how far away his thoughts had been. “Seagulls? I think I called them trash parrots.”
“That’s right! Trash parrots. I loved that.”
He smiled, slinging an arm around her shoulders.
That was how they ran into Seth only ten minutes later. When Heath spotted Seth, he stiffened, his arm drawing her close. Seth looked wary, and Rose couldn’t help but think of them both as dogs, circling the same bone.
If I’m lucky, they won’t pee on me to mark their territory, she thought wryly.
Seth eyed Heath DiMarco, while Heath’s expression was one of open hostility. Seth didn’t know what Heath’s problem was: he’d done nothing to merit that kind of look. And he wasn’t the one letting his sister live in an apartment without a damn bed while he sat in his cushy house.
Well, cushy apartment, maybe. It wasn’t like teachers made a ton of money.
“Hi, Seth,” Rose said.
She glanced at Heath, and Seth almost laughed when she rolled her eyes.
“Hey,” Heath said; Seth just nodded.
“We just saw your sister, actually, down at The Rise and Shine.”
“Which one?” Seth asked.
That earned him another full eye roll. “Which do you think? The one who works there. Jubilee is so sweet. I wonder where she gets it from?” Rose batted her lashes.
Seth grunted. “My sisters are a pain in the ass,” he said, his tone at odds with his words.
“Where do you work these days?” Heath inquired. “Now that you’re out of the Marines.”
“I do woodworking and carpentry. And I’m not totally out of the Marines.”
He didn’t know why Heath was irritating him so much, but there it was. Maybe because he seemed like Seth would pounce on Rose if he so much as turned his back. You were the same way when Trent was sniffing around Lizzie, his mind reminded him.
He told his mind to shut the hell up.
“You’re not totally done? I thought you were,” said Rose.
“I’m on inactive duty. I could be called up at any time.”
“Does that really happen?”
He hesitated. “Not usually. It’s pretty rare.”
; At Heath’s smug look, Seth barely restrained himself from punching him in the jaw. But then he saw the resemblance between the two siblings, and he realized it’d be like punching Rose in a way.
Besides, he wanted to stay on Rose’s good side, right? So no punching older brothers.
At the strained silence, Rose huffed. “Well, I need to take Callie out and get ready for work. See you later, Heath.” She kissed her brother’s cheek, leaving the two men to stare each other down in the warm June sunshine.
Although Seth was taller than Heath, Seth had a feeling the man could put up a decent fight. There was an edge to Heath DiMarco that Seth recognized. He wasn’t just some elementary school teacher, that was for sure.
“I want you to leave my sister alone,” Heath said without preamble. “She’s been through enough already.”
So there it was. Seth schooled his expression, anger filling him. Did Heath even know what his sister had been through? That she carried a damn gun with her everywhere she went because she was so afraid?
He wanted to throw that little fact in Heath’s face, but he stopped himself just in time. He didn’t have a right to share what he knew was probably Rose’s secret.
“Has Rose said that she wants me to leave her alone?” Seth countered.
“Not in so many words.”
“That’s a no, then.”
Heath scowled. “Like I said: she’s been through enough.” He stepped closer until they were only inches apart. “I just got her back, Thornton. Don’t make her run again.”
Seth’s brows flew up. Now, there’s a story. “And like I said: if she tells me that she wants me to leave her alone, I will. But I don’t take well to empty threats.”
“They’re not empty, believe me.”
“And what kind of a brother are you? Letting your little sister live in an apartment without a bed? Eating probably only ramen noodles?” Seth’s voice hardened. “Why act like you care when you clearly don’t give a shit?”
Heath flinched, and Seth knew he’d made a direct hit. Something dark lurked in Heath’s eyes, and Seth almost expected a fist to his gut. It had been a low blow.