Roses & Thorns: Conquer

by Bry Ann

  My body sparks when Miguel growls, and I push Lacey further back. Lacey scowls.

  “Once I go, who’s to say you won’t kill them anyway?”

  The only giveaway that Lacey is scared is the hand she has hidden behind her back, where her nails are secretly digging into her skin. Where the hell is Boss? Fuck, I should have told Rose to alert him. Let’s pray to God she thinks of that. This is bad.

  Miguel laughs. “Thought you’d say that, puta.” Whore.

  Miguel turns to his men.

  “Shoot them,” he says with a casual wave of his hand. “Not everyone. Let’s not get carried away. Either Lacey’s friend here,” he points at Enzio, “or Lacey herself, but you all know the protocol for Lacey.”

  I spring into action, watching in horror as Lacey jumps in front of Miguel, trying to push him back as the men aiming their guns laugh. Shit. Shit. Shit. I’m not ready to die. Not like this. I hesitate on the outside, ready to push Lacey out of the way if Enzio can’t. I’m an ass, but I’m not dying for Enzio. Lacey, maybe.

  “Run,” Lacey says frantically to Enzio and me. “Please, run.”

  Several men are pulling at Lacey to get her away, but she is fighting and kicking.

  “No, Enzio! No. No.” She bites one of the men on the hand, hard. They drop her immediately. She scrambles up to hug Enzio, effectively blocking any bullet. Miguel’s laughing, no doubt enjoying the display. Having his men stall to watch it, in fact. Sensing the delay, Enzio grabs Lacey’s shoulders.

  “You’re a mom. Fucking go, Lacey.”

  I run over, ready to pull her off. I feel my training kicking in. Enzio throws his shoulders back. Ready to take the shot. He could fight, but someone else would die in his place if he did that. Lacey, probably, and it wouldn’t be to the death. They’d leave her bedridden.

  Lacey’s shoulders fall as her entire body collapses. I have to hold her up. All the fight leaves her as she starts to sob, reaching out a hand.

  “Enzio, no.”

  Her head goes into my arm as sobs wrack her body. I flinch. I don’t feel comfortable holding her up like this. I place my hand over her head to keep it down, protect her from the…

  BANG!

  “NO!” She screams, before collapsing into heart-wrenching sobs.

  My muscles strain to hold her up. I can almost feel her pain. I want to comfort her more, but all I can do in this moment is hold her. I have to think things through. The threat is still very much here, and so is Lacey. She’s what matters here. He’ll shoot if I try to get her out. Shit, this is so fucking bad and I have no clue how to get her out.

  “Drop the fucking guns, Miguel!”

  All heads whip in the direction of the booming voice. Boss. Adam. The look on his face is one I’ve never seen before. Not in all its fucking glory.

  Power. Pure fucking power.

  An army of his men stand behind him. All suited up and ready for battle. Lacey’s body relaxes slightly when she hears his voice. She peels herself out of my arms and starts to crawl over to Enzio’s body. I don’t want her seeing that shit. I haven’t even seen it yet, but I’m in no position to stop her. I see guns aim at Lacey, and Boss is too far to stop a bullet meant for her.

  Fuck.

  I hear a loud gasp from her, followed by panicked breathing. I whip my gun out and blindly start shooting at any man who has a gun on Lacey.

  “Stop!” Boss roars when the gun fire has gone on for too long. All men stop. The second I started shooting, it erupted from both sides, Lacey somehow forgotten in a blaze of fragile egos. Thank God. “It was stupid of you to come here, Miguel. Mistakes of a child with no experience.”

  Boss smirks. The look on his face tells me this exactly the kind of mistake he was waiting for. I don’t know, though. I feel pretty fucking trapped right now. I turn my head from the now-dead men who were aiming for Lacey, to Miguel himself. Hovering over him is Cut. Maria’s gone. Long gone. I’m sure Cut ushered Maria out the second he got a chance. The men who were holding Cut and Maria are now dead, but Miguel doesn’t seem to be aware of that. Everything happened too fast.

  “Don’t fuck with me,” Cut growls before slamming his elbow into Miguel’s head so hard that it knocks him out cold. Action stirs. My head snaps to Lacey, but she can handle herself. Men attack. It’s a full-on battle. Boss stands back. It’s only when all the men Miguel brought are dead— they became outnumbered with Boss’s arrival— that Boss goes over and crouches over Miguel’s unconscious body.

  “No one takes what’s mine,” he hisses.

  He wipes his hands on his pants and stands.

  “Sven, cuff him. Take him to the cells. I have questions. We end this. No making the same mistakes as before.”

  “Yes, Boss.”

  Then a little detour. My Rose needs me.

  Lacey

  Gioele. He took the bullet. For Enzio. For me. He must have jumped in front when Sven pulled me away.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper, rubbing his hair back as he takes his last, ragged breaths. “I’m so sorry. I could have taken it. Oh god, you have a family.”

  “No. I… owe…. you. Even,” he breathes.

  The sound that escapes my lips isn’t human.

  “I’ll tell them. I’ll tell your family that you died protecting me and my friend. That you died making things right.”

  His eyes close, but the warmth in them as he fades lets me know he’s grateful.

  I look down at the hand I have covering his bullet wound with a nauseated feeling. Blood. So much blood. Flashes of the first murder I ever witnessed spin in my mind. Adam killed a man. Stabbed him right in front of me.

  Then, the second murder. The blood spraying in my face as he was inside of me. My captor. My rapist. His brain matter on my skin.

  I spin around so I don’t vomit on Gioele. He’s no longer breathing, but I can’t disrespect his soul like that.

  “Lacey,” Enzio’s voice cuts through. There’s a sadness in his voice that even a mafia soldier can’t hide. He grabs my hair and holds it back as my body falls forward to spill the contents of my stomach.

  “Nope. Come on, girl. I’m gonna get you out of here.”

  That’s not Enzio’s voice.

  There’s a momentary pause where Enzio sizes up whoever is speaking with me. I know the voice, but my brain won’t let the knowledge in. The vomit rises further up in my throat.

  “Nope, come on.”

  A large arm slips under my waist and scoops me off the ground like I’m a kitten.

  “I’m gonna…”

  “No, you’re not,” the voice cuts in firmly. “Not on me.”

  Cut.

  “Let me down, Cut.” My heart’s too broken to let you touch me.

  Cut sucks in a breath. “Gotta get ya out of here, Lacey.”

  “Please,” I whimper, reaching out for Gioele. “Let me go. I have to get to him.”

  “He’s gone,” Cut says softly. “Lacey, he’s gone.”

  My entire body collapses as Cut pulls me effortlessly from the room in one arm. I make the mistake of keeping my eyes open. Bodies are scattered across the room, limp and lifeless. All of them oozing blood. Like my hand. I don’t see Adam, but I know he’s Boss and he has to handle this first. My eyes drift back over to Enzio, then the other men, then, lastly, where Miguel stood.

  “Set me down!” I shriek. “I’m gonna throw up. I can’t hold it.”

  Cut sets me down with Enzio’s help. The second my hands hit the cold floor, I start to hurl violently. Cut holds my hair in a large hand as Enzio rubs my arm.

  “It’s okay. Get it out,” Enzio says as he strokes my arm. I know the two men are looking at each other, unsure. I can almost feel it. These are not men meant for comfort.

  But I can’t stop vomiting. Every time I think I’m done, I look at my hand and it comes up again.

  “I got her,” a deep voice rings.

  Adam. I nearly collapse to the floor with relief. All hands fly off me. I start to lig
htly dry heave as a sense of safety washes over me, forcing away the urge to vomit. I feel Adam’s presence in front of me. Close. He’s on his haunches, but not touching me.

  “Lacey, I’m here.”

  I feel the tears I was drowning in vomit slip down my cheeks.

  “I can’t touch you. I’m covered in blood and throw up.”

  I gag, throwing my hand over my mouth to stop myself from vomiting anymore.

  “I don’t care.”

  I crawl forward into his lap and cry as hard as I can against his shoulder, clawing at his back.

  “Gioele shouldn’t have died.”

  “I know, but babe, he was older. Way older than most live in this life.”

  I shake my head.

  “He was gonna take me,” I whisper. “He was going to kill them all if I didn’t go. I almost…”

  Not even Adam can take this round of my nausea away. I lean sideways and dry heave against the floor. There’s nothing left in my stomach to throw up. He gently rubs circles along my back.

  “I’d never let it happen,” Adam says. His voice is strong and firm. “I’m sorry I’ve been distant with you. That I’ve been ignoring your pain. I had to. I knew Miguel was planning something, and I couldn’t focus. I was too invested in your pain. I worried too much. As much of a bastard as this makes me, I couldn’t handle feeling your pain and getting my job done. This was complicated and I needed all my focus. I knew you could handle it, and that just makes me feel more like shit.”

  “It’s okay.”

  He scoops me up and turns me to face him, cupping my face in his large hands. “I’m gonna get you clean. Then you are going to come out here and talk to the people who helped save your life.”

  I want to hide away, but the phrasing, the way he just spoke, leaves no room for me to argue.

  So that’s what he does. He takes me to the nearest bathroom. Each one is fully stocked. He takes out mouthwash, a reusable toothbrush and several wipes. He rattles off a text to bring me new clothes. I don’t talk the entire time. I let him do all the talking.

  “We’ll get you showered in a bit,” he says as he wipes down my nearly naked body. I feel like my scars are on fire. Every time he touches one, I feel my body tighten and the air rush out of my chest.

  “Alright,” he says. “I’ll be more careful.”

  He doesn’t question my phantom pain; he honors it. The rest of the time, he wipes around my scars the best he can. He focuses on my hands, making sure every last drop of blood is off my fingers. That’s the worst part, so I’m grateful for his attention there. He lifts me up and places me in front of the sink, gingerly placing the toothbrush in my hand.

  “You gotta brush ‘em, okay? You’ll feel better.”

  I feel like a pre-programmed robot, but I do what I’m told. Because it’s Adam, and I know he’s only trying to help. Even if he doesn’t seem to understand that the last thing I want to do right now is talk or be presentable. What I want is to go under some covers, maybe one of his big, fluffy towels, and dwell in the darkness for a while.

  “Okay, mouthwash, then you’re done.”

  “Is my angel okay? Is she scared? Does she need me?”

  “Shh, our angel is fine. Mouthwash.”

  He pushes the cap against my lips, forcing the minty liquid into my mouth. I swirl it around for nearly a minute. I have to admit, it helps not to be fully covered in blood and vomit anymore. I feel Adam step away from me as I go to spit out my mouthwash. The door clicks open.

  “Thank you,” he says in a professional tone before shutting the door again. “Here.”

  In his hand is a purple jacket with black sweatpants. The mouthwash stings my sore tongue as I finish spitting out the icy liquid, before I grab the outfit from his hands.

  “Talk to me,” Adam murmurs when I’m nearly done putting on the clean clothes. “I’m not gonna let you shut me out.”

  I look him up and down, from his perfect suit to his ever-calm composure to the aura of power radiating off of him.

  “How are you so calm right now?”

  He straightens. “I’m used to this, Lacey. Death. Bloodshed. I’ve grown up in it. The people I care about most are safe. That’s what matters.”

  I feel my lower lip quivering. I’m not. I’m not used to this, and I know I never will be. I quickly turn away.

  “Makes sense.”

  I can’t do this. I can’t be here. I throw the bathroom doors open and sprint out of here. I know it’s impulsive and rash, but I. CAN’T.

  “Lacey! Lacey!” Adam calls as I brush past him and sprint through the house. I just need to be away. I’ll be fine. I just need space to breathe. It’s all happening too fast.

  When I finally think I’ve lost him, I pause to take a deep breath. I need to get it together, to go be a mom and a friend and a wife, but for now, I’m me. And that was a lot. My stomach feels like it’s quivering and I’m dizzy from the lack of food in my system.

  “So I guess I owe you a thank you.”

  What?

  My eyebrows pull together. I glance around the corner to see Maria standing there, hip cocked to the side, face to face with Cut. Cut’s face is emotionless and void. Maria is disheveled. Her hair is all over. Some of her lipstick is smeared. Her dress is riding up on her thigh and crinkled. She looks nervous, but she’s trying to mask it.

  “Don’t mention it.”

  Cut’s clearly unable to make eye contact with her.

  “I know you and Lacey are close.” Cut shifts nervously in response to that statement. “Will you guys be okay?”

  “I’ll do what I have to to make it right. Even if it means finding her another trainer.”

  My heart squeezes impossibly tight. I may be mad at him, I may be hurt, but I do understand why he did it. And the thought of losing him, of training with somebody else, after I’ve given him so much of my trust, makes my heart burn like fire.

  “Jesus, Lacey!”

  Adam runs up behind me, looking slightly frantic. He runs his hands up and down my arms. He makes it seem affectionate, but I know what he thought. He thought I’d fallen back, that I was cutting myself, or worse.

  His hand moves to my face when he realizes I didn’t do anything. He doesn’t say a word, just stares at me. I glance over my shoulder when I feel two pairs of eyes land on us. The way Adam approached me shoved me forward into their line of sight.

  “God, Lacey!”

  Maria runs forward, barefoot, right in front of me. She shoves Adam’s hands out of the way and inspects me herself.

  “Are you okay? I’m so fucking sorry.”

  A tear slips down Maria’s cheek. Everyone in the room pretends not to notice, but the slight raise of our eyebrows give away our shock. No one more than Cut though. The degree to which his face slips into an impassive mask shows how much Maria’s tears affect him. I know Cut.

  “Anyway,” she scoffs, gracefully tilting her head to hide the slip of emotion. “One thing that’s come of this is at least I know I’m not as strong as I thought I was. I’m glad you’re okay. If you’ll excuse me.”

  “Maria, wait!” I reach forward to grab her hand, but she slips past me. Immediately, I look to Cut. His eyes are following Maria with a frown in place. I glance around the room helplessly. Someone needs to help her. Where’s Rose?

  “Lacey, a word?” Cut asks. His voice is as gentle as I’ve ever heard it.

  I don’t even intend to, but I feel my face slip into a dark glare directed at him. I don’t know why I’m so upset. They threatened Maria with the very trauma he experienced. But still, I can’t help but feel betrayed. Like he could have tried harder. Like he could have taken my life into account more than leading the man straight to me.

  “I have to check on my daughter.”

  I spin around right into Adam’s chest.

  “Lacey,” he murmurs. He thinks I need to face this. That I need to talk to them. I don’t have to. I’m allowed to be angry. I’m allowed to be hurt, an
d I’m damn well allowed to feel sick and scared.

  I shake my head.

  “Move out of my way, please.”

  “I think you need to do this. I’m not doing you any favors by letting you hide away anymore. It’s time to help you by letting you fly.”

  “Well, I’m flying away.”

  “Talk to him, Lacey.”

  I want to scream at him. Why are you pushing this? Give me a freaking minute! But we’re in front of Cut and this is already awkward enough. Giving him a tight-lipped smile, I spin on my heel.

  “Fine. Let’s do this.”

  Cut cocks his head to the side and leads me into a separate room.

  “I know you feel betrayed.” He runs his hand over his ragged face. “I’m not good at this. When I was fifteen, I had to cover some shit for a friend. I was tied to a chair and sliced up with a knife for her sins. I’m glad I did it for her, I’d never take it back, but it was the most helpless I’ve ever been. As I’m sure you know, these scars changed everything. I became terrifying for men and women to look at. I didn’t want anyone to see me anymore. There’s no worse feeling than that, girl.”

  He winces, knowing full well I know the feeling.

  “The thought of a woman going through that...” Not just any woman, but Maria. “It sent me into a panic. It’s my one weakness. I’ve trained myself out of nearly all of them, but that,” he shakes his head. “I wasn’t thinking straight. I could have found a way around that. Fuck, led them a different way, shouting. Anything. I would have died for you, but when they threatened her…” He grimaces. “I couldn’t do it. Wasn’t thinking. I care about so few people, but you’re one of ‘em.”

  So he acknowledges that he could have led them astray. His reasoning for not doing so makes sense. He was tortured with a knife at such a young age. I knew it was horrific. Just looking at him gives that away, so I’m sad for him, but not surprised.

  Still, even with his words, my heart hurts.

  “I trusted you. I hardly trust anyone. I let you in Cut, and you led them right to me. Of course I’m glad no one got hurt, and I shouldn’t feel that way...” My eyes water. “But you’re my coach. My hero.”