by A. R. Breck
"Tell your boy Easton I'm not a booty call. Next time he pulls one on me like that I'll kick him in the balls." I say. Logan's eyes get larger with each word I speak. I would wait around for whatever his response may be, except I don't care.
I turn around and slip my sunglasses on before hopping in my car, ignoring Logan's shouts at me to wait up. I turn on my car and crank up the radio before reversing out of my driveway and wiggling my fingers at a furious looking Logan.
Yikes, I've never seen him that angry before. Oh, well.
I drive to school and try to ignore the angry rumbling of Logan's car behind me. How his car sounds angry, I don't know. All I know is, I can feel his anger all the way from here. These boys are going to have to get one thing straight – I'm not going to be bossed around like some bendable toy. I'm not going to bow down for anyone, and they are just going to have to get over that shit real, real quick.
Pulling into the parking lot, I see Cara hopping out of her own car and I press on my horn to get her attention while parking next to her. She looks over, ready to cuss out whoever is honking at her until she notices it's me and lets out a huge smile. "Hey, girl."
"Hi." I get out and grab my things.
"Wow, nice dress. You know, you don't always have to dress like you're going to a party, you know that, right? You don't live in Woodbury anymore. I mean, shit, look at me." She waves at herself and I spare a quick glance at her ripped, worn skinny jeans and Tupac cutoff.
I shrug. "It's just what I have always worn. You might feel comfortable in that." I nod at her outfit. "But I feel most comfortable in this."
She rolls her eyes but lets it go. "By the way, you never texted me last night."
I slap my forehead. "Shit. I'm so sorry, Cara. I totally forgot."
"What happened? Easton came over, right?"
I let out a sigh. "Yes, he did, for a little bit anyways."
"And? What happened? He was all caveman yesterday when I wanted to do something with you after school."
"Things were… good, I guess. Then he got a text message and disappeared. I haven't heard from him since." I am trying to not let it bother me, but what if it was another girl or something?
Cara nods her head like she completely understands. "My guess would be his dad. Whenever he needs something, Easton jumps to it without hesitation. It's always been that way. How you make it sound… I would bet on it."
"I don't know. It doesn't matter, anyway. I'm glad we got interrupted. I got too into the moment and forgot who I was with. I kind of needed that wake-up call."
"Interrupted, you mean…?" She gives me the look, and I give her one back. "Oh my God, did you…" She starts making these gestures with her hands and I instantly wrinkle my nose in disgust.
"Gross, stop that. No, not that. Definitely not that."
Now Cara looks confused. "Well if not that, then-"
"I'll tell you later. This isn't really the time or place to get into this stuff." I grimace. "It really was nothing, anyway." The last thing I want to get into on our way walking into the school is how Easton gave me the most powerful orgasm of my life – with his fingers. And how I'm still a virgin.
The moment we pass the exclusive side of the parking lot, I feel eyes on my back that nearly make me want to reach my hand up and itch my neck. It's not as heavy of a gaze as the one Easton gives me, but still…
I look back and see Logan and Jackson standing near their vehicles with their arms crossed over their chest, Logan giving me a pouty frown while Jackson looks like he wants to ground me for disobeying. Relief washes over me when I don't find Easton's truck anywhere in sight. At least I don't have to deal with that can of worms.
I turn away from the brooding boys and continue on my walk with Cara into the school, sighing when I know I will be feeling their presence lingering in the background throughout the day.
We stop at Cara's locker first, and while she's grabbing her things for first period, I feel the distinct buzz in my purse indicating a text. I cringe, hoping it's not Easton, or worse, my mom.
Corey: You can't ignore me forever, Rose. Meet me today.
Shit, I forgot about Corey. Sighing, I tap out a reply.
Rose: Okay. Meet me at the park down the street from my house.
I type out my address and hit send, already seeing the bubbles pop up. Jesus, this kid is starting to be a little creepy.
Corey: Can't wait to see you, babe.
I put my phone away and try to ignore the creepy crawlies that I feel are moving over my skin at the thought of meeting up with Corey. I'm not sure what it is that's making these feelings so strong. I didn't even have these feelings when I met with him at Starbucks. He was acting a little different, maybe. But definitely not this… persistent. And he definitely didn't give uncomfortable feelings, unlike now.
I try to brush off these ridiculous thoughts. It's just Corey, for fucks sake. I've known the kid for years. I know his family – they are almost like a second family to me. We dated for years and ran in the same circles. There is nothing to be hesitant about. If he wants to get back together, I will just lay it down straight for him. He should understand. He's cute – he can get any girl he wants back in Woodbury.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Easton
We're nothing but hollow vessels in search of what makes us alive. - Underoath
I get the text from Logan that Rose wouldn't get in his car today.
Logan: I would seriously steer clear today, bro. She's on one.
I roll my eyes and let out an audible groan. What is her deal this time? I swear, it's like she's cool and chill one minute, and then the next minute she decides to snarl at anyone who crosses her path.
Why does she choose to be the most difficult woman I've ever met?
I pull into the school around lunch time and hop out of my truck, making a beeline for the lunch room. Rose thinks I want to be some macho asshole who bosses her around, but what she doesn't realize is I am only doing this to protect her. In the short amount of time that I've known her, she has been seriously injured once, and almost molested by some hobo fucker another time.
Can anyone blame me if I get a little apprehensive with letting her run wild? The chick is apparently accident prone. That, and I’m sure when she ran around Woodbury, the most that she would have to worry about would be tripping on designer shoes and too many manners.
Here – it's like she's a lone fawn out in the wild, having to fend for herself.
I can't help but have the urge to protect her from all of the things I can't control. I don't know why I feel the need to protect her – but I do.
I walk into the lunchroom and to our usual spot in the back. No one dares to try and take our spot. No one wants to deal with the Reapers.
I see my little raven-haired devil and walk towards her. Jackson gives me a knowing smirk, while Logan and Cara are in a heated debate about God knows what.
I can tell the moment that Rose notices my approach. Her spine snaps straight and her hand stops in its ascent of lifting food to her mouth. I smoothly slide in beside her and wrap my arm around her shoulder.
"What's up?" I say to no one in particular, trying to ignore Rose as she tries to escape from my hold.
"Yo. Ready to start your training tomorrow?" Logan asks, reaching across the table to give me a fist bump, which ends up being directly in front of Cara's face. Cara reaches out to pinch his bicep, making him yelp.
"Yeah. Everything is ready to go." I had to run over to the gym this morning to meet with Duke, my trainer. He knows that school isn't important to me, but he still thinks I need to walk away with a diploma. Whatever – I will listen to him because I know I wouldn't be able to get nearly as good of training anywhere else as I do with Duke.
"Could you let me go, please?" Rose mumbles into my ear, probably not wanting to draw attention to herself.
"This is the hello I get? I take it you didn't miss me then?" I give her a small smirk
She rolls
her eyes. "Seriously?" She sticks her nose in the air like some snooty girl and keeps trying to disconnect from my heavy arms locked around her. I hate when she acts this way. She might be from Woodbury, but that's not her real personality, it's all just a cover.
"What is your deal?" Logan was right, she is on one today.
"Nothing, I'm just not in the mood to be a booty call today. Is that going to be a problem?"
I can feel my eyebrows raise to my hairline. "Booty call? Who said anything about a booty call?"
Her cheeks stain pink. "Nothing, never mind. I'm not going to talk about it right now."
"Well, I can fix that for you." I stand up and grab her by the waist, lifting her out of her seat before placing her down. Grabbing her by the wrist, I pull her through the cafeteria, ignoring the curious onlookers before dragging her to a quiet corner and pressing her back up against a random locker. "Problem solved. What do you mean, booty call?"
She sighs before yanking on the hem of her little white dress, almost distracting me with her never ending legs. "Last night…"
"Was great." I interrupt, earning a small smile from her.
"Last night… was great. But, I'm not the kind of person that does the friends with benefits thing. I'm sorry… I just can't." She shrugs and looks down at her toes instead of looking me in the eye.
Which is probably a good thing, because I'm confused as hell right now.
"Like I said before, who said anything about a booty call?"
"Well no one, but –"
"Exactly. No one. You aren't just a booty call to me, Rose."
"Last night…"
"Last night I got caught up with stuff. I wasn't bailing on you."
She finally looks up at me, relief shining in your eyes, but still a little bit of apprehension lingering in the corners. "Seriously? You weren't just going to… I don't know, finish off somewhere else?"
I let out an incredulous laugh. "Why the hell would I do that when I had the sexiest woman I know already in front of me? No, Rose. I had to meet up with my dad. I definitely wasn't meeting up with any girls."
The tension drains from her body, and I grab onto her waist and haul her up against my body. "Quit fightin' me. 'Cause we're happening."
"Why won't you kiss me then?" She blurts out.
I look down at her beautiful, pouty lips that are begging to be abused. Ravished. Bruised. "Because you're not ready." I say, running the pad of my thumb across her lower lip, almost losing my cool when she pokes her tongue out and swipes at her lip, hitting my thumb with her tongue in the process.
She leans further into me, desire now swirling in her eyes and making her voice turn raspy. "How do you know I'm not ready? You wouldn't be my first kiss, you know."
My hand that's running along her thumb moves down and I pinch her chin with my thumb and pointer.
"Is that so? Tell me, who have you kissed? I'd like to know their names so I can go kill them."
She swats at my stomach. "Stop. You're so cruel."
"Only where you're concerned."
The bell rings, signaling the end of lunchtime. "Well, I guess I better be going." She stands up straight and runs her hand down dress, flattening out the nonexistent wrinkles.
"What are you doing after school today? I ask, because I'm apparently becoming obsessed with this chick.
She shrugs. "Not much, meeting with a friend before going home and dealing with my drunk mother." She clams up, realizing her slip about personal shit. I pocket this information and know that I need to learn more about her and her past life a little more if I expect her to open up to me. But for now, "What friend?"
She bites on her bottom lip, hesitation oozing from every ounce of her body. "Just an old friend. Oh, shoot. I've got to go. Can I text you later? Wait, I just realized we've never texted before. Do you even have my number? Damn. I will get it from Cara later. Okay, got to go. Bye!"
That sly little…"Rose!"
She turns back to me with a semi-guilty look on her face, already burrowing herself in between the throngs of people. She thinks they can save her, but she is oh, so wrong. "Yes?"
"What friend?" I swear to God if it's that little prick Corey, I'm going to castrate his ass.
She pulls her phone out and pretends to answer the phone. "Hello? Oh, yes." She says to no one before reaching a hand up and giving me a little wave, pointing to her phone and walking off.
That little shit.
◆◆◆
As the last bell rings for the day, I jump out of my seat, ready to search for Rose and give her hell for trying to be a sly shit earlier when I feel my phone vibrate.
Shit.
Pulling it out, I see a text from my dad.
Rich: Meet me at the office.
Easton: Be there soon.
I tap out the pointless reply as I redirect my direction back to my truck. Rich likes to be acknowledged that we received his text, otherwise he gets angry.
Can't have that.
I don't tell Logan and Jackson that they need to come with. Rich would have let me know if they needed to come. I have to be honest, now I'm even curious what I'm summoned for. There are rarely instances where I'm needed and my boys aren't.
This thing with Rose is just going to have to wait until later. As much as I would like to stop her from seeing whoever the hell she's seeing, Rich's work does not wait for anyone. Including the girl who has wound me so deep inside of her web.
So fucking deep.
I hop into my truck and drive the twenty minutes over to his office. It being daytime and a weekday, people pass by me on the street as if we all just regular civilians. Little do they know, I'm about to meet with the biggest drug dealer in Minnesota, maybe even the northwest.
Walking into his office, I give a nod to Hugo before knocking on his door. His usual come in vibrates through the door and I enter, seeing the harsh scowl pasted on his face.
"What's going on?" I ask, instantly on alert.
"We've got a problem."
"Okay…."
"Follow me." With his hands in his dark gray suit pants, he looks every bit of a mob boss as you would expect. His dark hair is greased back with not a hair out of place. He used to be quite the ladies man, once upon a time. After my mother, he became a ruthless killer and only on the occasion will treat himself to some fun. His dark brown eyes are void of all emotion. People say I have the same hateful look in my eye, which I guess might be true, mostly in the ring.
His faced is lined with years of stressful days and nights, and an almost permanent frown sits on his face. He's a tall and thin man, like me, except the power he holds in his stance is something I will never be able to compete with.
I follow silently as he walks through the halls of the warehouse until we get to the doors which lead to the basement. My heart rate speeds up in understanding. Someone tried to play us, and now they have to pay the price.
Who was it, though?
He creeks open the solid steel door and we make our descent down the stairs to the cement basement. A harsh, dank smell assaults my nostrils along with the metallic scent that I instantly know as blood.
The basement to the warehouse is one large, cement block with no windows and no exit except for the door that we just came through. I'm not sure what it was supposed to be once upon a time, but now we use it as a holding cell of sorts, or if you really pissed off Rich, a torture chamber.
The walls are always ice cold and the basement has a feel of death to it. I avoid coming down here if at all possible, the smell alone makes my nose curl in disgust.
Once we reach the bottom of the stairs, we turn the small corner and come across a man secured to a chair with a look of pure terror on his face. He looks familiar, and I immediately notice him as one of the guys from the warehouse in Minneapolis. One of Rich's new transporters.
"Easton, this man here is Jason Edwards. You might have met him the other night down at the warehouse. Is that correct?"
"Yes, sir." I na
rrow my eyes at Jason, wondering what he did to earn himself this death sentence.
"Apparently, this morning he decided to go to the drop off site and try to record some information for Sanders about our shipments." He lashes out and my eyes widen. This guy works for Sanders? What the fuck?
Sanders is Michigan's key drug lord and we are usually able to stay out of each other's way with no issues. What used to be a mutual working relationship between two huge businesses is now a huge fucking mess.
This problem is going to have to be dealt with, fast. Most of the new guys will need to be brought in for questioning to make sure there are no other traitors.
And if this is coming from Sanders directly, then we have a much bigger issue on our hands.
"Was it just him?" I ask.
"Yes. Did you notice anything at the warehouse the other night?" I try to think back to last night and if anything looked out of place that I didn't catch. Or if there were people who were talking to Jason that might also be in on it. I mean, he was talking to another new guy, but that doesn't necessarily mean that guy is in on it, too. But the more I think about it, the more I think Jason was not at all nervous and I didn't see anything out of the ordinary, so you just never know.
"I mean, no. I remember Jason from the other night, but he was just working quietly with another one of the new guys. I didn't notice anything out of the ordinary, and I was keeping an eye out all night."
"Fair enough. We can't always catch them right away, but you need to keep a closer watch. Not just on the new people, on everyone."
"Yes, sir."
"So, now. What is it we do to when we encounter a traitor?" Rich asks so smoothly, you would think he was discussing what's for dinner instead of murdering someone.
"Murder." I watch Jason when I say this and watch fear bleed into his eyes.
"Correct." He gives me a smile that looks nearly possessed before turning back to Jason. "Now, Jason. Do you remember when you began working for me, you went through a thorough assessment and training to understand the requirements for what is expected of you?"