Kobe, Bad Blood (Blood Roses Book 1)

by Danielle Norman

  Inhaling deeply, I closed my eyes as a horrid vision filled my mind: Dante with a gun in hand and pointing it at Jared.

  I leaned back against my car and stared up at the lone star in the night sky as tears rolled down my cheeks.

  “Kobe,” Ridley said, and a scream ripped through me as I whirled around, fists raised.

  “Whoa there, hold on, calm down,” she said. “It’s just me.” Ridley stepped closer, her kind face drawn into lines of concern. “Are you okay? What happened?”

  “Nothing,” I said and sniffed. The smell of exhaust and gravel filled my lungs, grounding me into this moment. “What are you doing outside of my apartment?” I asked and slid my hands into my pockets, hoping it would help them remain still.

  “I’ve been waiting for you,” she said and gestured to the staircase that led up to my second floor apartment.

  “Waiting? It’s after midnight,” I said and tried to remember if we had made any plans to get together.

  “No, I know that,” Ridley said as she moved closer to me and leaned against the driver door of my car. “I’ve been thinking about earlier today, our training.”

  “Oh,” I said.“I forgot that was this morning. It felt like a lifetime ago.”

  “Yeah, looks like you’ve had one of those nights. Anyway, I was thinking about what you said about the DT Coyotes and about your brother’s murder. I don’t think you should stay here alone, Kobe.” She looked over her shoulder at the dingy sign that read Ciesta Lago Apartment Complex. “It’s not safe. I was about ready to pull my gun out no fewer than three times this evening.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “I didn’t know you carried.”

  “I think every woman should carry, it’s not like a police officer is going to fit in our purses.”

  I chuckled.

  “Anyway, I came here to try to talk you into moving into my house with me.”

  “I turned to face her. “You barely know me.”

  “I know you more than you think. I have a two story house. It’s on the edge of Little Vietnam. Compared to here, the area is great.” Ridley kicked a pebble with the toe of her boot. “Someone has to be accountable for your safety, someone needs to know if you don’t show up at night.” She finished, and my throat tightened as I closed my eyes, and fought back the tears that were threatening to spill over.

  “Thank you, Ridley.” I sniffled.

  “Kobe, I didn’t mean to make you cry,” she said and wrapped her arms around me. She pulled me close as I buried my face into her denim jacket.

  “Thank you,” I repeated as I clung to her, realizing how badly I needed to be held by someone.

  “Of course. You’re welcome,” she said. When she inhaled, I braced myself for the question that had to be on her mind, but no question came.

  We stood for a long moment as I regained my composure.

  “You know,” she said, “I thought it would be harder to convince you to move in with me.”

  “Let’s go upstairs.” I motioned with my head. We walked across the parking lot, and up the steel echoing staircase that led to my apartment door.

  “Is this you?” she asked.

  “Yep.” I slid my key into the lock and opened the door. I was relieved by the rush of cold air that dried the tears on my face.

  “Are you sure you live here?” Ridley asked in surprise, and I flicked on the overhead light, and illuminated the closet of an apartment.

  “I just never bought more than the sofa, mattress, and the coffee table,” I said with a shrug. “I have some pictures though,” I added as she examined the wall of photographs that I had hung.

  “Is this your brother?” she asked and pressed her finger to the photograph of a smiling, gangly teenage boy with his arm draped around an equally awkward-looking teenage girl.

  “Yeah, that’s Jared,” I said and felt the hitch in my heart that was there whenever I saw photographs of us.

  “He was cute,” she said.

  I laughed. “He would have said the same thing about you.”

  “How about your parents?”

  “Don’t know my dad, he left while my mom was pregnant. Mom died a few years before Jared.”

  “Hmm.” Ridley sighed as she came to the next photo. “And this guy?” She flicked a finger at the photograph.

  The sharp pain in my chest rippled through my body. “That’s our friend, Easton,” I said and looked at the photograph of the handsome young man in his high school graduation cap and gown.

  “He’s cute too,” she said.

  I nodded, knowing all too well how good-looking Easton really was. “My room is back here,” I said and stepped two feet down the hall and clicked on the light switch.

  A single full size mattress lay on the floor decorated only by the cheap Walmart comforter and two hundred and fifty count thread sheets.

  “Wow,” she said. “Talk about luxury.”

  I rolled my eyes as I crossed to the pile of laundry in the far corner of the room. “I basically just sleep here,” I said with a shrug. “So I haven’t had company all that often.”

  Ridley stepped across the fake wood floors that creaked under her weight and opened the closet door. “And what’s all this?” She pointed to three small U-haul boxes.

  “Some of Jared’s things,” I said and turned away from her as I stuffed T-shirts and jeans into a duffel bag. It wasn’t totally true since one of the boxes was my mom’s stuff.

  “Can I help you?” she asked. I nodded, and she lifted four hangers from the closet and a small stack of books from the closet floor.

  “Whose glasses,” she asked of the round tortoiseshell frames. “They kind of remind me of James Dean.”

  I snorted out a laugh. “They were my brother’s. I think that was what he was going for. Not that he wore them regularly. It was mostly just while he was reading.” I held them gently in my hand. “You know, really, these are probably my favorite item that I own.” I let out a shaky breath as she watched me. “There’s just something about them, you know? Something so personal and necessary. For a couple of hours every day, he peered through these and saw the world in a unique way that was only his.”

  Ridley placed a gentle hand on my shoulder and passed me his eyeglass case. “I wish I could have met him.”

  “Me too,” I said and fought back fresh tears.

  We finished packing my stuff into two duffel bags and throwing my bathroom toiletries into an old shoe box.

  “You know, I can’t believe that you fit all of your belongings into two duffel bags.” Ridley helped me carry my stuff down to my car. “What about your mattress and sofa?”

  “Do I need them? They were thrift store purchases.”

  Ridley shook her head. “Nope, the room I’m putting you in is totally furnished, and I’ve already got a sofa.”

  “Okay. Let me run back up and grab the photos off the wall.”

  I raced upstairs, glad to be doing this alone. I walked into my apartment and over to the wall where photos hung haphazardly. I didn’t add nails instead I used what had already been there and painted over. Sure, it made it look wonky, but it seemed to fit because my life was wonky.

  I grabbed the first image—the only one I had of me, Mom, and Jared all together—and wondered if she and Jared were in Heaven together. Slowly, I grabbed the next photo and then the next before they were all in my arms.

  I left my apartment and locked the door behind me. Another chapter in my life’s book was closing and another beginning.

  “This is your room,” Ridley said as she pushed open a door. When we walked in, she had given me a brief tour by saying, “The kitchen is to your left, the living room straight ahead.” Then she led me upstairs past several closed doors.

  “This old house has six bedrooms. Mine is at the opposite end of yours. Both of our rooms have en suite bathrooms, and the other four rooms share between two bathrooms.”

  I stepped into the pastel blue room with blue ticking wallpaper and
hardwood floors. Real hardwood, not the wood-o-leum that had been in my apartment.

  The bed was large—a queen by the looks of it—with a brass headboard and footboard.

  “This is so girly, I’m afraid that I might dirty something. I come home at night smelling of cigarette smoke and stale beer.

  “You’ll be fine.” She chuckled as she set down one box and both duffel bags. I set the other two boxes and photos next to them then splayed out across the bed.

  “Hold on,” Ridley said and ran down the hall. I heard her feet clunk down the stairs. I pulled myself up and grabbed one of my duffels to start unloading my stuff. I had just gotten my four measly hangers hung up in the closet when Ridley returned, holding a bottle of wine and two red Solo cups.

  “So, let’s get the formal stuff out of the way,” I stated. “What’s rent and when is it due?”

  “The house is paid for so why don’t we just split everything else, bills come in and I’ll let you see them. We both pay. We both stock the fridge and just cut it fifty/fifty.”

  “You sure?” I asked as I took the cup she handed me.

  “Positive. I’m actually excited to have someone here with me. This place gets lonely. By the way, eventually I want to turn part of the downstairs into a gym. The formal living room and dining room are side by side, so I want to knock down the wall between the two rooms and open it up then we can work out here.”

  “I love that idea. I’m happy to help.”

  “Great, we’ll add that to our plate.” Ridley took a long sip of her wine. “How long has your brother been gone?”

  “Four years...”

  “All four years you’ve been planning on taking down the Coyotes?”

  “More or less. I’ve spent the majority of the time learning how to defend myself and studying their habits. That’s how I knew to apply at Sasha’s. She goes to the laundry mat every Wednesday morning. So, I started going to the laundromat every Wednesday as well. Eventually she and I started talking.” I paused for a moment and asked myself why I was telling Ridley all of this. Sure, I felt like I could trust her, but I didn’t know, not for certain. I shook my head. “Anyway, we got talking, and she offered me a job.”

  “So, then you and Easton,” she said as she picked up the photographs that were on top of the boxes. “What’s the story there? I noticed how you got all crazy-eyed when you talked about him. Is he still in your life?”

  “He’s the guy who left before I woke up. He also happens to be a member of the Coyotes.”

  “Whoa.” Ridley held up one hand. “Your brother’s best friend just so happened to join the gang you believe is responsible for his death?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You sure he’s innocent, it seems sort of suspicious that he is part of the gang now.”

  It was weird that Ridley was questioning this since she had no clue the cops had suspected Easton. But more than that, this was my deep worry as well. It was something that bothered me but I was trying to refuse to face. I kept telling myself that Easton was innocent, he was on mission like me, right? He wanted to find Jared’s killer as much as I did. “I’m positive,” I said but wondered for not the first time if that was the truth.

  “Okay, I believe you if you say so. Let me ask you this then, after all of this, after you find out who killed your brother, what are you going to do?”

  I took a long, deep drink of the Moscato that she had already refilled twice. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do. I haven’t thought about it. I definitely won’t stay at Sasha’s.”

  “I have an idea,” Ridley looked at me over her cup.

  “What’s that?”

  “I’m trying to find a way to buy the building next door, it is zoned commercial. I want to open a tattoo shop. You could learn to be a tattoo artist and work with me.”

  I lifted one brow. “You want me...?”

  “You are a kindred spirit, Kobe. I can’t explain it, but your vibe? It’s good. So, are you interested?”

  I nodded. “I think that I like this idea. I think that I’d be a good tattoo artist, I’m good at drawing. Question, what do you need to buy the place next door?”

  “I need about thirty-five thousand.”

  “I have sixty-one,” I said matter-of-factly.

  “You have sixty-one thousand dollars and you were living in that shit hole? How the fuck did you get sixty-one thousand?”

  “My house, the house Jared and I lived in, belong to my grandparents, then my mom, then Jared and me. I sold it and put the money I made from the equity into the bank. I could buy the building next door. I have good credit. That way I’m not freeloading totally. My question is, are you sure that you can you teach me to do tattoos?”

  Ridley nodded. “I can train you, I’m positive.”

  “Then I’m totally down with getting the building. But there is one caveat.”

  Ridley’s smile faded a little. “What’s that?”

  “I can’t do it until I get the evidence against the Coyotes. Sasha, my boss, is close to the gang and she hired me because I was desperate for money. If someone sees me going into a bank for a loan, anything, then I’m fucked.”

  “I gotcha.” Ridley gave me a warm smile. There was something so warming about the way I felt around her, like I had found a genuine friend.

  Easton

  I sat on a stool at the far end of the bar at Sasha’s. The place was quiet today. The usual bustling rowdy behavior of the Coyotes was more subdued. Dante’s display last night at his party still had everyone tense. Yes, we got out of there with our lives, but no one trusted that to be the end of it. The threat was still there under the surface, undeniable and almost tangible.

  I drew long slow lines in the condensation from my beer and followed uneven crisscross marks that someone had carved into the wood.

  I glanced to my left where Spider sat quietly on the opposite end of the bar. He took a long slow drag of a cigarette, looking tired. We all were. I didn’t think anyone got to bed before four this morning.

  Every time the front door opened, I kept turning to see if it was Kobe. I’d gone by her apartment last night, but there was no answer and her car wasn’t there. I was on edge and needed to make sure she was okay.

  The clicking sound of heels against faded wood floors drew my attention, and my heartbeat accelerated. Kobe must finally be here.

  “Hello, handsome.” A high soprano’s futile attempts at a sultry voice had me grimacing, and I took a long sip of my beer, my eyes forward on the cracked glass window of the bar.

  “What are you doing here today?” she asked as she ran a gentle hand down my shoulder, over the leather of my biker vest that I still wore, and rested sizzling red nails on my wrist.

  “Just having a beer, Missy,” I said, I didn’t even have to look at her. The overwhelming scent of her cheap floral perfume was an insult to my nose. I’d rather have Spider puffing smoke in my face.

  “Did you have a rough night, baby?” she asked as she slid her fingers up the back of my neck and through my hair.

  I wanted to jerk away, but I wasn’t in the mood to cause a scene.

  “Go away, Missy.” I sighed and gulped down the last of my beer, setting the glass down hard in front of me.

  “Oh, come on, talk to me,” she said. “I’m a really good listener. Everybody says so.” She slid onto the stool beside me and spread her knees provocatively. One resting at the back of my stool, the other rubbing against my knee.

  “I’m sure they do,” I said. “I’m sure Crow really appreciates your listening ear.” I gave her a side glance and waited impatiently for Sasha to see me, I either wanted another beer or my total.

  “That’s why I’m here. Crow told me to suck you and Spider off. He said you three had a stressful night last night.” She pouted her thin lips, which were the same shade of red as her fingernails. “I’m just trying to help, you aren’t going to reject my kindness, are you?” Missy leaned forward, rested her chin on my bicep and looke
d up at me from under false lashes. “We all have our jobs, don’t we?”

  I frowned and gave her my full attention.

  “Job? I didn’t realize you were charging these days,” I said, and she snorted out a laugh. Probably the only real thing about her.

  “Well, I will be once Sasha gets the upstairs remodeled.” She nodded toward the rode-hard-put-away-wet-looking woman who was in deep conversation with Cipher.

  “She’s remodeling, how nice.” I slid my knee away from her attempt to cross it under the bar.

  “Yes, she’s a real business woman. Says I got potential.”

  I suppressed a groan as I looked up at the ceiling. “Potential for spreading chlamydia.”

  “What?” she asked, genuinely confused.

  “Nothing, Missy. You’re right, you’ve got potential, I’ll give you that.” I stared into her eyes probably for the first time and hated that she reminded me of a lost child. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’m going to have to pass on your offer. I appreciate it, I really do, but you’re not the one for me.”

  “Oh, honey, I wasn’t talking forever,” she said. “Just seven minutes.”

  “Seven?” I asked and raised my eyebrow in surprise.

  “Seven minutes in my mouth,” she said and pursed her lips in amusement.

  “What exactly do you plan on charging for seven minutes?” I asked

  “Fifty,” she said, proud of herself. My heart sank in my chest for the young woman beside me. “So, if you don’t want to be with me, and you’re not drinking”—she glanced across the empty bar—“What are you doing here? Got nowhere better to be?”

  “I’m waiting for someone,” I said and spun the empty bottle on the bar top, growing increasingly more bored of the conversation by the moment.

  “Oh, you’re waiting for Allie, aren’t you?”

  I nodded and, for some strange reason, wondered if I could do that trick where you uncap a beer bottle using only your forearm. I flexed my arm and pondered that thought.