by Vivian Wood
“You think I don’t know that?” Heath growled, shaking his head. “She won’t accept my help. She won’t accept anyone’s help. What makes you think you’re so different? Rose keeps to herself and she always has.”
Seth instantly felt guilty, hearing the pain in Heath’s voice. There was a history there that he couldn’t begin to fathom. Lizzie had been the same way, when she’d been hurting: Seth had wanted to help, tried to help, but sometimes there’s truly nothing a person can do.
“Just leave my sister alone. She needs to get a life for herself, not have some other guy sniffing around her and screwing her over again.” Heath shook his head and went toward Rose’s apartment, probably to make sure Seth didn’t try anything.
Seth walked to the park he and Lizzie would go to when she’d lived with him in the apartment. Gazing off into the distance, Seth heard Heath’s words over and over again, the pain—and the guilt—so obvious in them.
Seth understood pain, and he sure as hell felt guilt. He’d failed Lizzie, he’d failed Max. Was he drawn to Rose because he thought he could save her? Was she his redemption in a twisted way?
He rubbed his temples. A headache threatened to take over; it didn’t help that he couldn’t stop clenching his jaw until his entire head pounded.
“I thought I’d find you here,” Lizzie said quietly as she came to stand in front of him. She smiled down at him, although it was a sad smile. “What’s up, buttercup?”
“Hey, Lizard. What are you doing here?”
“Trent has Bea, and I wanted to come see you, but you weren’t home. I put two and two together.” She gestured at the bench. “May I?”
He nodded.
He and Lizzie had been inseparable as kids: being twins, it had been like they could read each other’s minds. Although Lizzie was technically older, Seth had always felt protective of her.
But now Lizzie had Trent, and she didn’t need Seth protecting her, did she? He was no longer the most important man in her life.
“I’m tempted to ask you what’s wrong, but I know you well enough to know that your answer is probably going to be ‘nothing.’” Lizzie eyed him. “So, what’s up?”
“Nothing.”
She punched him, making him laugh a little.
“Come on. Tell me. It’s the least I can do when I made you listen to everything with Trent last summer.”
“And made me buy you a pregnancy test?” He’d never, ever forget that one.
That made her giggle. “I didn’t make you. You offered. And look! You survived.” She smiled, and Seth once again saw how happy his sister was. How content. It made his chest hurt, yet he would never begrudge her that happiness, either.
“For the first time in my life,” he said slowly, staring into the horizon, “I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing.”
“Welcome to the club.”
“I thought leaving the Marines was a good idea, after Max…” He swallowed, struggling for a moment. Lizzie squeezed his hand reassuringly. “But what am I doing now? Nothing. I’m no good at anything except being a soldier.”
“That’s not true. You were an amazing Marine, and I’m so proud of you. But that doesn’t mean you can’t make a life for yourself here.”
He shook his head. “I think sometimes I’m only suited to war.”
It was his darkest fear: that he couldn’t be anything but a man who knew how to kill. He’d turned into the military’s efficient human machine; now, he couldn’t return to his own humanity.
“You’re lost right now. I was last year. I couldn’t write a song to save my life.” Lizzie leaned against his arm. “You’ll get there. Be kind to yourself, Seth.” Her tone turning sly, she added, “Maybe you should start dating.”
He grunted.
“Rose DiMarco is very pretty, and she’s your neighbor—”
“How did you know that?”
“I saw her when I stopped by your place. I didn’t even know Heath had a sister,” she mused. “If it makes a difference, I approve.”
“Thanks, I think.” Seth wished he could tell Lizzie everything about Rose—about her courage, her spunk, her fear—but he bit his tongue. It almost seemed like a betrayal to talk about her right now. Or maybe he just wanted to keep her all to himself, because he feared what would happen if he admitted how much she’d captivated him.
Rising, he put out a hand. “Come on, let’s go get something to eat. I’m starving.”
“Only if you pay,” Lizzie said with a bright smile.
“Cheapskate. Fine, come on.”
She laughed and took his hand, threading her arm through his as they walked with no particular destination in mind.
Chapter Eight
Rose threw the tennis ball, laughing as Callie sprinted in the opposite direction to fetch it. At the local dog park that evening—on her day off of work—she’d decided to get some much-needed fresh air to clear her head.
Callie returned with the ball and dropped it at Rose’s feet. Rose ruffled the dog’s fur. “Good girl,” she crooned. “Go get it!”
She threw the ball so far that it landed in the lake. Not one to be put off by a little water, Callie jumped into the lake before Rose could catch her.
“Good thing I just had you groomed,” Rose said in exasperation as Callie returned the ball. Callie panted, water dripping onto Rose’s bare toes, and just waited for Rose to throw the ball for the millionth time.
Rose kept tossing the ball—far away from the lake each time—letting her mind drift.
She’d run into Seth a few times since she and Heath had returned from The Rise and Shine. Seth had been courteous but distant. Rose told herself it was for the best, although she couldn’t help but resent her older brother a little. She knew Heath had said something to Seth, like she was still some little kid needing to be protected.
She grumbled under her breath. “Save me from overbearing men,” she said to Callie as she threw the ball into the nearby woods. “I’d like to kick them all in the groin.”
It was easier to think about Seth avoiding her like some kind of infectious disease than about Johnny’s deadline creeping up on her. Her heart hammered in her chest each time she remembered that damn deadline.
I almost have all the money, she told herself. If I can get him to just take the money…
She wanted to believe she could persuade him to take the money and leave her alone. She wanted to believe it, even if her cynical side knew he wouldn’t.
When she’d made her deal with Johnny, she hadn’t realized all it would entail. She’d thought she’d live with him, maybe do chores for him. Cook him meals, make his bed, clean his house—things like that. She’d been so naïve.
Although she’d been almost twenty-one, she’d still been a virgin. Johnny had taken care of that quickly, though.
The old pain pushed up from her throat, making her eyes sting. She couldn’t call it rape—not really.
She hadn’t said no; yet she hadn’t said yes, either.
She almost laughed at herself. If any other woman had told her a story like that, she would’ve called it rape within seconds. But it was easier to think she’d had a choice. It made it seem more bearable.
Johnny had never hurt her—not physically. He hadn’t hit her; he hadn’t bruised her. But he’d reminded her that she owed him, and that if she left, her brother would suffer the consequences. He’d reminded her that she would be nothing without him.
After a while, she’d believed him.
When Callie barked, Rose jumped, the present rushing back to her. The sun was about to set. How long had she been standing there, staring off into space?
As she walked toward the park’s entrance, she realized that there were no other people or dogs around her. It wasn’t that late—where was everyone? A little shiver chased down her spine, and she started walking more quickly. She felt for her gun, safely stowed in her jacket pocket like always.
Right then, some creature darted into the woods, Cal
lie chasing after it with a loud bark. Rose shouted for her and was about to run after her dog when she heard a twig snap right behind her.
She didn’t wait to see what it was: she whipped around and aimed her gun at whatever was following her. She waited, her body trembling with tension. She knew, with a certainty only gained by experience, that she was no longer alone.
“That’s not very nice,” Johnny said as he emerged from the woods like some creepy specter. “Pointing a gun at me.”
Rose kept the gun leveled straight at his heart. “I still have time,” she said in reply.
“I’m aware.” He pulled out a packet of his stupid clove cigarettes, lighting one as he walked closer. He seemed completely unconcerned about the gun aimed straight at him. He took a drag of his cigarette, making Rose’s eyes water from the smoke.
She hated the smell of cloves.
“I’d recommend you tell me what you want,” she said.
Johnny laughed. “Would you believe me if I said I wanted to see you?”
“No.”
“Too bad. I missed you. Did you miss me?” He blew out a cloud of smoke. “Then again, you have new friends. What’s his name, Rosie?”
Her blood turned to ice. She gripped the gun harder, because she was afraid she’d drop it. Swallowing, she took a deep breath. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Even though the light was dim, she still saw the flash in Johnny’s eyes. The same flash that signaled that he was no longer interested in playing nice. Stepping closer, he grabbed the gun’s barrel so quickly that Rose gasped. Dropping his cigarette, he used his free hand to break her grip with a swift slice of his hand on her wrist. Before she knew it, she was disarmed, her gun tossed onto the trail, Johnny’s arms wrapped around her in a grip like a boa constrictor and his forearm pushing against her throat.
“Who is he?” he asked again. “Do you think you can find someone else? You know what happens when you do that.”
She gritted her teeth. When she’d first tried to escape Johnny, she’d enlisted one of his guys into helping her.
It had ended with his man getting beaten so badly as to be unrecognizable. He’d spent months in the hospital as a result.
The thought of Seth getting hurt like that—or worse—because of her terrified her. Seth was a soldier, but he had honor. He didn’t know about the dirty tricks Johnny would play. And even a man like Seth couldn’t defeat a bunch of guys intent on killing him.
“He’s nobody. He’s just my neighbor. Leave him out of this.”
“A neighbor who kisses you? He’s certainly dedicated to being neighborly.”
He pushed his arm tighter against her throat until she saw stars. God, he’s been watching me. What else does he know?
She clawed at his arm until he finally let up enough for her to breathe again. She gasped for air, but Johnny didn’t let her go.
“I have your money,” she rasped. “You said two weeks. I have three more days. Give me that, Johnny.”
He seemed to consider her words. Right when it seemed like he was going to let her go, they both heard something running out of the woods. With a bark of warning, Callie launched herself at Johnny. He screamed, and Rose broke free. She saw the glint of her gun yards away; she said a prayer of thanks for whatever divine spirit had kept it from being lost in the woods.
“Get the fuck off of me!” Johnny yelled as Rose sprinted for her gun. She could hear cloth tearing, and she knew Callie had sunk her teeth into his leg with a force that was unbreakable.
Rose placed a hand on Callie’s head to keep her still, although she didn’t tell her to let Johnny go. “If you don’t keep still, I’ll tell her to rip out your throat,” she said calmly as she pushed the barrel of the gun against the back of Johnny’s neck.
He laughed, but she knew he was scared. Good. Payback for all the times he terrified me.
“Are you going to kill me?” he said lightly, although she almost smiled at the strain in his voice. Callie growled low in her throat.
“No, because I don’t kill people. But unless you get the hell out of here and leave me alone, I’ll rethink my decision.”
Slowly, Johnny raised his hands in surrender. Rose commanded Callie to let him go, although she didn’t move the gun from his neck. She wasn’t about to let him try to hurt her dog.
“Walk. Now.”
Johnny walked, swearing as he limped slowly. Rose could see the blood trail he left from his leg wound.
When they got to the entrance of the park, the sun having completely set and with no one in sight, Rose had him turn around.
“Get in your car, and drive. I don’t care where. But get out of here.”
He sneered. “That’s it? You’ll let me go?”
“Like I said: I will—for now.”
He leaned toward her, but Callie gave a warning bark. He lurched away, his hands up.
“If you think this is over,” he threatened, “you’re wrong. We’ve just begun, Rosie.” He swore at Callie as he limped to his car.
It wasn’t until Johnny drove off that Rose put down her gun. And it was only minutes later—or was it hours? Days?—that she gasped and fell to her knees, the adrenaline rushing away to be replaced by stark fear.
She clutched Callie tightly. “What am I going to do?” she whispered.
No one answered.
Rose didn’t expect to sleep that night. She kept her gun close as she curled up in her nest of blankets on the floor, Callie only feet away. When Callie wouldn’t stop pacing, however, Rose gave in and let Callie join her in her “bed.”
“Just for this once,” she whispered. She knew full well she was doing it more for herself than for Callie.
Callie’s warm weight and the quiet sounds of the night lulled Rose to sleep, but not before her thoughts turned toward Seth. She wondered if she should tell him what was going on. Didn’t he have a right to know, now that Johnny had threatened to hurt him?
She knew the answer. He deserved to know, even if it humiliated her. And even if he never looked at her the same way again.
That thought was her last as she fell asleep. Her dreams were scattered, bizarre, more colors and shapes and sounds than anything else. She vaguely remembered waking up and feeling Callie’s nose next to her ear. But perhaps she’d dreamed it.
Then her dreams became distinctly erotic.
She was—in a cabin? In her apartment?—at the moment, it didn’t matter, because this was a dream. She wore only a lacy negligee, her hair falling down around her shoulders. Roses scented the air; candles were lit throughout. She sat on a bed and waited. She already knew who she waited for, and her heart pounded with anticipation.
Seth entered the room and gave her a heated once-over. Every place his gaze touched felt like fireworks exploding beneath her skin. She rose and pressed her hands against his hard chest—blessedly, wonderfully bare—and she felt the rumble of his voice before she heard it.
“Rose.” He leaned down to kiss the soft spot beneath her ear. “I want you.”
Those simple words nearly made her knees buckle. Sweeping her off her feet, he carried her to the bed and laid her down on the duvet covered in rose petals that had appeared. And then she was naked, and so was he, and she explored him like she’d wanted to do since she’d first met him. She explored him with a courage she didn’t have outside of dreams.
In dreams, she could be the woman she ached to be.
She didn’t know what he looked like under his clothes, but her imagination was vivid regardless. His chest was sprinkled with dark hair, and she traced the lines of his abdomen. He was all muscles and strength and heat, and he smelled like pure male.
He tangled his fingers in her hair and pulled her up for a kiss that shattered her senses. She felt his body press against her own, so hard against her softness, and she shivered when his cock brushed her hip.
He kissed her until time seemed to stop. He kissed her neck, her breasts, laving her straining nipples. Sh
e felt wetness pool between her legs.
“Seth, please. Seth.”
He kissed her belly. He muttered her name. But when he looked up, he was no longer Seth.
It was Johnny.
“I’m so glad you came back to me, Rosie,” he crooned, caressing her hip. “Because you’ve always been mine.”
And she screamed.
She awoke to the sound of her own screaming. It seemed to go on and on. She clapped a hand over her mouth, but sounds still leaked through. Callie barked; Rose shushed her.
She couldn’t stop trembling. All she could see was Johnny’s eyes, his smile, the way he knew he had her and always would. Feeling sick, she rose from the tangled mess of her blankets to stumble to the bathroom. After throwing up the little bit that was in her stomach, she washed out her mouth and brushed her teeth for good measure. Callie followed her around the entire time in canine concern.
When she heard the knock on her front door, she jumped. Callie barked. Her heart pounding furiously, she grabbed her gun from next to her pillow and went to the door. And waited.
Another knock. Then: “Rose, it’s Seth. Let me in. I heard you scream.”
He said the words softly, but she heard the command under them. If she weren’t so freaked out, she’d be annoyed by his tone. She considered telling him to go away, but did she want to be alone right now?
No, she really, really didn’t.
She opened the door to see Seth wearing only boxers, his hair mussed from sleep. Her breath caught. Although it was obviously dark, the illumination from the streetlamps let her know her imagination hadn’t been far off the mark. If anything, her imagination hadn’t been generous enough.
He was cut as if from marble, from his chest to his abdomen. Her gaze traced the line of his hip to the waistband of his boxers.
He cleared his throat, and she jumped.
“Can I come in?” He looked at the gun still in her hand. “Or are you going to really shoot me this time?”
“Oh. Oh, no. Come in.” She gestured for him to follow her, all too aware she herself wore nothing but a tank top and sleep shorts—and no bra. Nobody sane wore a bra to bed, but at the moment, she rather wished she’d kept hers on, because her nipples were already hardening with sheer want.