Roses & Thorns: Men

by Bry Ann

  “I know.” And I do.

  I grit my teeth so I can get this out without biting his head off.

  “I can’t go to treatment, if that’s what you’re saying. This is fucking sick and twisted. This all started at a treatment center. One I didn’t need. Now it’s over and I actually need one.”

  I let out a bitter laugh. When really, honestly, I just want to fucking cry.

  “I wouldn’t do that to you,” Boss says quietly. “I’m sick in the head. I’m not that sick in the head.”

  Sure. “What are you thinking?”

  “Therapy.”

  “I think I’d rather suffer in silence.”

  “That’s no longer an option,” Boss says firmly. “You get help or you move on out.”

  “Or you’ll kill me,” I slur, the alcohol from earlier kicking in. He shakes his head.

  “No. If you want to go now and drink yourself to death, I’ll let you.”

  I glare at him. “I’ll be a joke here. If I’m in therapy, I might as well walk away.”

  Boss pulls a chair over and takes a seat.

  “I have ideas for that. We’ll use a separate room. You can always go after Lacey. Lacey would be fine with switching rooms for you. You can sneak in after her. I’ll make sure nobody goes by there.”

  I groan and run my hands over my face.

  “This isn’t me.”

  “I know that. You loved her. Love sucks.”

  To that, I chuckle. “Does Lacey know you think love sucks?”“Oh, I’m positive Lacey thinks love sucks more than I do.”

  I shake my head. Boss stands. He looks at me like we are two friends, not greater and lesser.

  “Keep doing your job. Go to therapy. I’ll text you the times. Get your shit together. Lacey and I are working to get justice for her. Well, Lacey is, but I’m hoping she will let me step in soon.”

  “She alright?”

  He shrugs. “Never really know with Lacey.”

  “Thanks, Boss.”

  He nods. “I’ll see you tomorrow. She meets with her therapist at 5 p.m. You can go at 6 p.m. I’ll contact her now and let her know you are starting sessions.”

  I nod. Boss hands me a bottle. “This is it. Don’t drink more.”

  I can work with that. I bring the bottle to my lips as he shuts the door to the room Rose and I once shared. The room I locked her in. I send the bottle flying across the room. God damn it! I had to take her. I just had to involve her in my stupid life. I sent her running. If she hadn’t met with him, I’m certain he wouldn’t have killed her. I have no idea why the fuck he did in the first place.

  Damn it!

  I have rules. I don’t just take people. I don’t just hurt or kill them. I was thinking with my dick! By the time I started thinking with my damn heart, it was too late.

  I drink myself into oblivion. Fuck Boss and his stupid fucking rules. I’ll drink as much as I damn well please.

  Lacey

  “Hi, Lacey, how are you doing?”

  If I were making a list, Adam and Cut are numbers one and two, but my doctor is number three on my list of favorite people. The doctor has never judged me, has stood by me, healed me, stood up to Adam. I really trust and respect him. I couldn’t be more grateful to him if I tried. He’s an incredible man. I don’t get to meet a lot of those.

  “Good overall, but, um, I haven’t wanted to say anything, because, I swear I’m not being a baby. I just…”

  “Lacey,” the doctor says, almost looking a bitter sort of amused. “The last thing I’d ever think you are is a baby.” “Okay, my stomach’s been hurting,” I blurt out. No matter what he says, I do sound like such a baby. “I’ve been getting nauseous when I fight, or do anything, really. I almost had to tell Cut to pause the other day. Pause. In the middle of a fight! I hope it’s something, because if it’s not, I’ll be so embarrassed.”

  The doctor glances up at me, eyebrows furrowed.

  “I’ll run some tests. If you are coming to me about this, I know it’s not nothing.”

  “It’s not,” I whisper. “Something’s wrong.”

  “Okay.”

  He pulls out needles and starts going through the process of drawing blood.

  “One more thing. Don’t tell the Boss. Not ‘til I know for sure.”

  “Lacey, I—”

  “Something’s wrong,” I cut him off, trying to ignore the tears I’ve shed over this. “I promise. I don’t want to worry him or deal with that until I know what I’m up against.”

  “Okay,” he says reluctantly. I nudge his shoulder playfully.

  “I won’t let him kill you.”

  The doctor smirks. “I’ve stood up to him plenty of times over you, little girl. Can’t stop now, can I?”

  “Thank you so much. For everything.”

  He waves me off. “Please. I’m glad it was me.”

  “Me, too,” I say honestly. I can’t imagine anyone else doing what he did. Pulling off a miracle like he did. Not so much saving my life, but getting me to trust him with my body.

  “Okay, done,” he says, pulling the needle from my arm. “As usual, I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

  “Thank you, doctor.”

  He smiles warmly. “You’re welcome, Lacey. Keep hanging in there.”He never says he’s glad to see me happy. Never says to keep smiling. Never says how healthy I look. Nothing like that. He knows I’m not happy yet. I feel happiness sometimes; I’m not happy. I’m getting healthy; I’m not healthy. It’s a journey, not a destination, and nothing frustrates me more than when people see me smile and they get all elated and think I’m healed. Of all the things he’s done and continues to do, I think this may be the thing I am most grateful for.

  I train with Cut for a few hours, then go to therapy, after a shower, of course. I’m busy, and by the last half of my therapy session, all I’m thinking about is getting to my computer. If I go too long without thinking about my computer, my mission, I think of Rose. Thinking about getting justice for her keeps me from thinking about our time together. Both Cut and my therapist can tell I’m distracted. Cut lets it slide, because I still give 99%. My therapist doesn’t.

  “Thinking about Rose again?”

  “What? No. I just have work to do.”

  “Finding out about Rose.”

  “Yeah,” I mumble.

  “Do you remember what I’ve said about that?”

  “I remember…”

  “What do you think about it?”

  “You know what I think!” I snap. “I think you’re probably right. You and Mirial, I respect you both immensely, but I can’t give up on her. I can’t.”

  “Try reframing your thinking. You’re not giving up on her; you’re choosing yourself. You deserve that.”

  I shake my head several times, and glance at the clock. When I see the time, I leap out of my chair.

  “Well, time’s up. See you in a couple days.” I throw the door open and practically sprint out of there. I’m more than shocked to see Sven standing there, drunk, with Adam by his side wearing an emotionless mask. Seeing Sven fall apart this last year has been hard. Really hard. On all of us. He went from an overconfident, slightly immature criminal to a broken man. An alcoholic. Adam can pretend he doesn’t care ‘til the cows come home, but we both know that’s not true. He cares about Sven. I’m not naive. If he didn’t, Sven would be dead by now. I’ve been witness to that. When he killed his old Underboss. I shudder at the memory.

  “Hi, Lacey.”

  Adam looks me up and down.

  “Um, hi…” I say, unsure, glancing between the two of them.

  “Going to the computer room?” Adam says, with a tone I can’t quite understand. I search his eyes, trying to gather the message he’s trying to tell me.

  Get out of here.

  I glance at Sven. His overgrown stubble, the way his jaw is pursed in a thin line, his clenched fists...

  “Yes, gotta go. Bye.”

  I sprint out of the
re, nearly sliding on the tile in my haste to get to the computer room. I get myself all set up. I start sifting through the internet, hacking sites, going into the dark web, my usual stuff, when an idea hits me. I sit up straighter and hack Rose’s old social media. A name on there catches my attention: Kevin Martin (Kev). That’s the man who was there. The one they let leave with some broken limbs and a gunshot to the shoulder, but alive. He was distraught over Rose’s death.

  He knows.

  He saw their faces.

  The police said he was pretty traumatized and they weren’t sure if he shared everything. They’d try later. It’s been a year.How did I not think of this sooner?

  “I’m so stupid!” I say to the empty room. I slam my hand on the table. “Damn it! This is what I’ve needed.”

  I jump to my feet when I see Adam leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. He’s so quiet. Always.

  “Uh, hi,” I whisper awkwardly, ducking my face.“You’re not stupid. I hate that you said that.”“I didn’t mean it. I just… I’m so stupid! It was right in front of me the whole time!”

  My shyness vanishes in the wind.

  “The whole time!” I scream, tears pricking my eyes. My arms are still wobbly from training. Adam comes over and gently places his hands on both sides of my shoulders. It takes everything in me not to melt into him. I know he feels me vibrating with emotion.

  “What did you find?”

  “The man who was with them that day, Kevin. They were good friends. Better than I realized. I bet he knows more! How could I not have thought of this a year ago? Damn it.”

  I temporarily let myself slump against him the slightest bit. Like always, he senses it and wraps his strong arms around me. Nausea pricks at my stomach, reminding me of the blood tests I’m waiting for.

  “It’s not your fault any of this happened, okay? You’re doing a great job.” I know I’m not, but I let him console me. I always let him, even when I know his words aren’t true. It’s like a temporary boost of oxygen to my weak lungs.

  “I have to go talk to him.”

  I start to pull away. He lets me, but there’s a look on his face telling me he isn’t done. I brush past him.

  “Lacey, I want to talk to you about something.”

  “Can it wait? This is the lead I’ve been looking for for over a year now.”

  “You don’t give up, do you?”

  “I have to go talk to him.”

  “Well, I have to talk to you. Wanna sit?”

  “No,” I squeak, terror rising in my chest. “What’s wrong?”“Nothing’s wrong,” he quickly assures. “I just think what I have to say will be a lot for you, given everything.”

  “I’ll stand. I’ll be fine.”

  “Lacey, I found Jamie and your family. I hope you’re not mad, but I let them know you are alive.”

  Adam reaches out and holds my shoulder before the dizziness even hits me.

  “Jamie?” I whisper, barely able to get the word out.

  He nods, studying me.

  “He… he…”

  “Wanna see a picture?”

  I nod wordlessly. I can’t speak even if I want to. Jamie. My little angel. The innocent one in all of this.

  Adam pulls out his phone, flips through some screens and hands me the cold, black aluminum. My hands are shaking so badly that Adam has to grab my wrist to steady me. I try to blink back tears, but they hit too fast.

  I’m met with a pair of cool green eyes, chubby cheeks, curly brown hair, and a toothy smile. I choke. My reality hits like an explosion. A sob bursts out of me before I can stop it. That was supposed to be my life. He’s so big. I was never meant to be here or suffer this. I was just a normal girl.

  “I know. I know,” Adam soothes, pulling me into him.

  I dig my nails into his skin like I can escape into him. He squeezes me so tightly, not letting me fall or feel anything but him.

  “Why me?” I sob, for once letting myself feel sorry for myself and nobody else. “Why me? What did I do?”

  I cry harder. It feels like I may pass out from the pain.

  “I know, I know. Shh, I have an idea.”

  His hand hesitates, hovering above my knee.

  “Can I?”

  I nod. He scoops me up in his arms. I tuck my head into his chest as sobs rack my body.

  “I want Rose back,” I cry.

  “I know, little dove.”

  “None of this is fair. How do I survive this?” I dig my nails into the skin of my palm.

  “I don’t know,” he whispers. I cry and cry. It doesn’t end. It’s like a door has been opened and I’ll never be able to shut it. I have my eyes closed until I feel Adam lower me to the ground. I slowly peel my swollen eyes open.

  We are in the boxing ring. My eyebrows tighten. How did we get here?

  “Uh…”

  Adam starts throwing off his jacket, then his fancy white shirt. He throws both to the side, leaving him there shirtless, abs glistening in the dim lighting.

  “Um…”

  He extends his arms. “Show me what you’ve been practicing.”

  My tears dry up into hard focus. A channel for my pain. I peel myself off the floor and throw my sweatshirt off, leaving me in a small, white tank top. I don’t hesitate. I fly at him, not using any of my skills, just trying to land punches and make him hurt like I do. He deflects every one. He doesn’t give me any pity punches, which I’m grateful for. With every punch I throw, I let out a squeal of pain and effort. After several minutes of me blindly throwing punches with my tears dripping on the mat, Adam effortlessly grabs both of my wrists with a hard squeeze.

  “Focus. Come on. Show me what Cut’s taught you.”

  His voice is harsh. Not the usual voice he uses with me. That stirs all kinds of emotions in me, none of them fear or anger. I narrow my eyes and focus. I feel the tears stick to my face, but don’t give them any power. I bounce on my toes. I throw one punch, quickly taking offense. Adam sees my plan, so he takes defense. I dodge everything he throws at me. I even land a punch on him once. I love this. It feels like we’re bonding, and I instantly know we’ve found our thing. Finally, when my muscles start to wobble and my breath starts to get wheezy, Adam gently steadies me on the mat.

  “I won,” he whispers over me. I laugh, still trying to get air.“Well, duh.”

  He laughs and winks, not even fazed by our fight. No one would know he had even participated if he wasn’t shirtless and there wasn’t the slightest bit of sweat on his abdomen.

  “You’re not even tired,” I grumble. He chuckles. I feel his erection against my thigh. Why does he do this to me?

  “I do this for a living,” he whispers. “Was trained to do it since I was a kid. I can’t believe how good you are. You’ve only been doing this a year.”

  He shakes his head.

  “You’re good at everything.”

  I duck my head, trying to hide the blush in my cheeks.

  “You make me feel special,” I whisper.

  I chance a look at him. His eyebrows are furrowed.

  “You are. God, you don’t even realize.”

  He shakes his head again.

  “One day. One day, you’ll know. I’ll make sure of it.”

  He leans down to kiss me. I moan against his lips and dig my fingers into his perfectly styled hair, messing it all up. The kiss deepens. He grinds his hips into me. I let out the whimper I’ve been holding back. He pulls up, eyes dark. He grabs my shirt and gently pulls it over my head. No matter how far gone with lust he is, he is always careful to make the beginning gentle. That is where flashbacks are most likely to occur. He quickly removes my pants and underwear after that, followed by his own. He climbs over and gently slides inside me, making love to me right there on the mat. He kisses me, reassures me the whole time as I fight to stay in control of my thoughts. No matter how good sex is, how good it feels, how deep the love and connection are, I always have to fight my instinct to panic.
Always. They did that to me. They took a piece of intimacy I’ll never get back.He rolls off me and helps me to my feet. Helps me get dressed so we can go out and really get ourselves cleaned up. I discreetly hold my churning stomach.

  “I’m gonna go talk to Kev now. I have to.”

  I totally ignore the fact that he found my family. That he showed me Jamie. I’m a terrible human, but I can’t think about it. It kills me.

  “I’ll come with you,” Adam says, picking his jacket up off the floor. I smile at his disorderly hair. I love him like this. He catches me grinning at him. He self-consciously runs his hand over his hair, trying to smooth it.“You always mess me up,” he teasingly grumbles.

  “I make you better. And no, you absolutely can’t come. You’ll terrify the poor guy. He’s been through enough.”

  I level him with a stare. Adam kisses the top of my head.

  “You absolutely do make me better. I’ll wait in the car, then. I’m just watchin’ out for ya.”

  And, well, I can’t say no to that. I can act as tough as I want, but I want someone to protect me. To make sure I never, ever get hurt like I did again.

  Sven

  I enter the room slowly. This is ridiculous. I can’t believe I agreed to do this. I’m greeted by an older woman. She looks like she’s been doing this since the stone age. I already hate her. I hate fucking being here. I don’t know why I agreed. Boss said if I hurt her, he’d kill me. He meant it. I have to control myself, which I’m great at when not totally inebriated.

  “Hello, Sven. Please have a seat.”

  Control. Control. Control.

  “Tell me a bit about yourself.”

  “What the hell am I supposed to say here? Sven. 26. Asshole. Issues. Fucking what?” I snap.

  The therapist sits back, reading me.

  “Alright, Sven, 26, let’s cut to the chase then. Why are you here? You’re obviously not thrilled about it, so what brings you to that chair?”

  Are therapists always this fucking blunt? I grind my jaw and clench my fists.

  “Rose died.”

  The therapist’s face softens.