Reapers and Roses: (Grove High School Book One)

by A. R. Breck

  "Like I told you, I go to school here." I huff, annoyed when I hear the bell ring. Now I'm fucking late because of these assholes.

  "Where did you come from?" Logan asks, looking me up and down. "You don't wear clothes like you're from this part of town. Your car on the other hand…" He snorts out a laugh, and I scowl at him.

  I will not be embarrassed at my lack of money. Everyone here is poor. Why make fun of me?

  "I'm from Woodbury."

  All three sets of eyes grow wide at my comment.

  Logan lets out a whistle. "Woodbury. You got some money in those pockets, Rose? The hell you move here from Woodbury for?"

  "Now that is none of your business. Are you guys done with the interrogation? I really have to get to class." I say, getting ready to turn around and leave these guys to their truancy marks.

  "I already told you, Rose. This place is not for a rich girl like you. With your fancy clothes and your fancy hair. You don't get special treatment because of where you come from. You're as much of a trailer trash whore as everyone else is here." Easton says, pulling himself up off the side of his truck and leisurely walking towards me. "Get out of my sight, Rose, and stay out of our way." He lashes quietly at me. It's deadly, and it makes chills break out on every inch of my skin.

  I don't say another word as I turn around and walk into school, sucking back my tears of shame and getting far, far away from these evil men.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Easton

  I think perhaps all of us go a little crazy at times. – Robert Bloch

  She goes to my fucking school.

  I sigh, disgusted with myself as my heart beat picks up every time she's near. Then I had to go and blast off on her like that asshole I am. Shit, those tears that started welling up in her unique as hell eyes could bring even the President to his knees.

  I give a nod to Logan and Jackson and head off to first period. This girl has been on my mind since the moment I saw her last night. No matter how hard I try, she finds her way back to my mind. I even went back inside last night and let that Mandy chick give me a blowjob.

  She gives some serious head, that's all I know. But even as she was deep throating the hell out of my cock, it was Rose, unfortunately, who I imagined on her knees in front of me.

  Rose with her scared, sad eyes. She looked up at me like I was her savior. If she thinks I'm some knight in shining armor, she is sorely mistaken.

  They call me the Reaper for a reason. I have no soul, and I have no issue with taking anyone else's just for the hell of it. People say I lack the normal feelings that a teenager should have. I just shrug and look the other way. Who the fuck cares if I don't weep when a life drains in front of my eyes. Does that make me a psycho?

  Essentially, they call me Death.

  Rose and me, we're from two different sides of the track, literally. The last thing that she needs is the poor boy from the mobile home to be barking up her tree. Her rich ass probably prefers the boys with the popped collars and polished shoes.

  Rose. Even her name sounds rich and pretentious.

  The moment I walk into first period, I have to tamper down the growl that wants to break free when the first thing I see is a dark head of hair of the girl that won't get out of my mind.

  Rose looks over at me, giving me a quick glance then looking away. It's almost like she can barely stand the sight of me either. She's probably pissed from my cruel words earlier. Shit, I really am a jackass.

  I'm moments away from going to mess with her, because apparently I'm trying to break some record with being the biggest asshole. But, then I think better of it. I'm already late to class, and I would rather just ignore her and hope that she just fades into the background like every other girl in this town.

  The teacher barely spares me a glance, as is expected. I get here when I get here, and if I'm not here, I'm usually marked present on my attendance for the day anyway. No one wants to mess with Rich Malone. Shit, no one wants to mess with Easton Malone either. But daddy dearest will torture and kill you, I will just simply kill you. Torture is too messy for my tastes.

  I sit in the back of the classroom, a few chairs behind Rose and slap my notebook and pencil on the desk, ready to pretend I'm doing shit for the day. Whatever it takes to look I'm actually learning something, I guess.

  I watch as the guys cower near me and the girls pull the front of their shirts down in the front a bit, trying to reveal some of their cleavage. I roll my eyes and pretend they don't exist. All the girls here are the same.

  Slutty and needy.

  Once romp in the sack and they think they can rope you down with pregnancy scares and confessions of love. They make me want to tear my ears off my skull most of the time.

  The little raven-haired girl in front of me though…

  There's something about her. It's not just her wealth, no, that's the last thing I'm thinking of. It's when she sasses back at me, or speaks her mind without bowing down or cowering in the corner. She's strong, and that definitely peaks my interest.

  Dude, shut the fuck up! My conscious yells at me.

  The teacher hands out the assignments for the day, and as everyone gets to work, I see some guy repeatedly glancing over at Rose, giving her a look that I know all too well.

  Lust.

  I clench my fist as this stupid fuck, Jeremy, poorly attempts to get her attention. Jeremy is a class A jock on the football team. He's as poor as the rest of us, but might actually have a shot of going to a good school once he gets out of here on a football scholarship.

  Jeremy goes in for a second try, leaning over the isle and tapping her on the shoulder. I clear my throat, loud enough for Jeremy to hear.

  He freezes, hanging out into the isle like a fucking loser. Slowly, ever so slowly, he turns his head and looks back at me. When he sees my deadly scowl and slight shake of my head, he slinks back into his desk like a turtle into his shell.

  The slight tremble to his body doesn't go unnoticed, either.

  Rose looks back at me when she notices Jeremy cowering like a scared cat and slowly turns her head to look at me, giving me one of her scowls.

  I just give her a little smirk, lifting only the corner of my mouth, and then throw in a wink for good measure.

  Her hand tightens on the back of her chair, giving away her anger that simmers just below the surface.

  Good. Give me that anger baby, I will swim in it.

  She's a sexy little thing, that's for sure. She looks a little too high maintenance, though. That is definitely not something I need to be balls deep in.

  No, she's not something that I need to be messed up with at all. Not only does she look like she could potentially be a stage five clinger, but she also looks like someone who will tear men apart until they are nothing but weeping shells of a human.

  For fun.

  Nope, not going to go there.

  As she starts to turn back around to finish up her assignment, I let out a little noise to get her attention again. She turns back to me one more time with her eyebrows lifted.

  I flick her off.

  She scowls and turns back around with a sigh, clearly displeased.

  Good, problem solved.

  ◆◆◆

  Once school is out for the day, I make my way over to my house with Jackson and Logan trailing behind me. We need to meet to go over a few things. The business being one of them, and the second being the upcoming fight that I'm scheduled for.

  Training takes up most of my time, and honestly, it keeps me out of school more than Rich would like. Yeah, I call him Rich instead of Pops. He prefers it that way, which is just fine with me. He likes things to stay professional with all of his business associates, which includes me.

  Pulling up to our trailer, I get out and walk up the rickety stairs, trying to avoid the extra soft spots. I know one step in those spots and your foot will push right through to the ground.

  People ask a lot - why we live the way we live. We all make good money,
after all.

  Rich doesn't think it's necessary to have material things and waste it on a house we barely use. I get it, I do. These are our roots, and this is where we belong. We wouldn't do well in some uppity neighborhood with prestigious socialites being nosy and bringing us baked goods at every turn.

  No, we're good here. In the hood where we grew up. Plus, Rich owns about every inch of this town. He would never leave.

  "Yo, sup bro?" Logan says, walking in and plopping down on the couch, kicking his feet up on the coffee table.

  Jackson walks in behind him, walking up to the refrigerator to grab a beer and lifting it in greeting before walking over to turn on the Xbox One. Dude is a Call of Duty addict.

  "What's up?" I ask, rummaging around for something to eat in my cupboards.

  "Now that it's starting to get warm out, shit is starting to pick up at the Pit. Last night was crazy packed." Logan says, catching the Pop Tart that I toss to him.

  Logan is my boy. Like a brother to me, really. We grew up together since being in diapers when our dads had nothing but a dub in their pockets and were working at the factory in the town over. They started up the business and our moms would all get together in the park and let us crawl around in the lumpy yards between our homes. Logan's mother died when he was five, and since then has mostly grown up in my home, crashing on my couch or on the floor of my bedroom. My mom pretty much raised him after her best friend died. But then my mom left three years ago.

  Or, I guess you could say, Rich sent her away.

  Things were getting kind of hot here for a while, and my mom, Laura, was getting worried and begging him to pull out. He gave her an ultimatum – because he loved her.

  Leave, or die. Which is more than he would give anyone else. When you fall into this life, you're in it for good.

  Ruthless man, my father is. But to my mother, there has always been a soft spot.

  So, my mom left, packing her two duffels and chugging away in her little Volkswagen, never to be seen again. I have heard from her on occasion, mostly holidays and birthdays. But she found a new life, and is living safely away from the drugs and crime of our city.

  She's still single though, and I'm sure Rich is to blame for that one.

  Jackson, on the other hand, didn't move into our park until we were in middle school. He's always been a quiet, withdrawn shell of a kid. He will always have my back, I know that one hundred percent. I think his shitty father and mother are to thank for his emotionless demeanor. His dad is a ruthless, abusive underhand to my father. The only reason why Rich keeps him around is because he is good for business and knows when and how to get the job done.

  His mother, on the other hand, keeps herself going by the white powder that Randall, Jackson's dad, provides for her.

  "You know you're fighting with the Viper this Friday, right?" Logan says as Jackson hands him a controller, booting up the Xbox.

  "Yeah, so?" I say, sitting down in a chair in the living room.

  "He's a lot better than last year. Dude's apparently gotten quick on his feet." Logan says, only half paying attention to the game he's playing.

  Jackson, on the other hand, is too busy demolishing everyone who comes into his path in the game to even pay attention to our conversation.

  I shrug, not really caring. "Yeah, whatever. I'm training the next two days, won't be in school. Duke will get me ready." Duke is my trainer at the gym, he's always got me ready for the fight.

  "Yeah, I know. Just be ready. This guy seems like he might be on something." Logan shrugs just as Jackson curses out some guy that killed him.

  "Like what, cocaine?" I ask. If he's on coke, he got it from us.

  "No, like steroids or something. I hear some of the guys might be getting the juice on the side."

  "Whatever, nothing I can't handle." I shrug. To be honest, I'd be more worried if he said coke. Drugs can make you feel like Superman.

  "We going to go do this today, or what?" Logan says, already setting the controller aside. He isn't as into gaming as Jackson is. He would rather be out finding some pussy to sink into.

  "Yeah, in a bit. Don't want to be too early." We have to make a drug run for Rich. He usually has us do small jobs in preparation for the future of running the business. Slowly, he has been moving us up to doing bigger jobs, like tonight. We have to go meet this guy who shorted us on our last supply. We were shorted a significant amount on our cocaine supply. If he doesn't fork up the cash or the drugs, he gets the Reaper. Although, even if he forks it up, he still gets the Reaper. Can't fuck with Rich. And if you do - you pay the price. Simple as that.

  We sit around and shoot the shit for a little while, each having a beer and then make our way out to my truck, ready to make the fucker pay.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Rose

  From now on, it can never be the same as before, 'cause the place that I'm from doesn't exist anymore. – Immortal Technique

  Pulling up to the local Starbucks, I park and immediately notice the Range Rover that Corey got for his sixteenth birthday. It sticks out like a sore thumb with its sleek and high end details on just about every inch of it.

  Sigh.

  What I wouldn't give to go back to my old life, where money wasn't an issue.

  I should really look into finding a job or something - something to support myself so I don't have to lean on my mom. I need to get some money in my pockets and quick. Once I graduate at the end of this year, I will need to figure out where I'm going to live.

  I dig around in the dirty cupholder in my car, scraping up enough change so I can get myself a small drink.

  Hopping out of my car, I adjust my oversized black cardigan over my jeans as I make my way to the entrance.

  This is the one thing that I've refused to give up on during the move – my clothes. I might be the only person in this town with more money worth in clothes than their whole house put together, but whatever. I'm not giving up my cashmere, my Chanel, or anything else.

  Once I make it to the door, I push it open and there stands Corey. In his polo shirt and khaki pants, he is the epitome of wealth and riches. His hair is dirty blonde and trimmed properly, gelled back with a slight wave to it.

  "Rose, how are you, babe?" He comes in and wraps me up in his arms, giving me a peck on the cheek.

  This is unlike us, considering we haven't been dating in well over a year. I give him a small smile and shrug out of his hold. "I'm good, how are you?"

  "Missing you like hell. Things aren't the same without you."

  I laugh. "Oh, I'm sure." I stop a beat as we wait in line. "What are you doing in the Grove? I didn't think you even knew how to get here." The Grove and Woodbury are like night and day. Most people from the rich town don't dare cross the border to the slums.

  He waves me off with his hand like it's nothing – when really, I'm sure none of his buddies know that he's here. Definitely not his parents. "Oh, I was passing through and knew I had to meet up with you. No big deal. Anyway, how have things been going? Is it just absolute hell here or what?" He cringes, but I'm too stuck on his rapid change of topic. I slip that thought into my back pocket, deciding I will dissect it later.

  "It's different, that's for sure. I honestly still haven't even thought much about it. I've only been here about a week."

  We step up in line to order our drinks, and when I'm about to make my order, Corey butts in for me. "And she will have a small Strawberry Refresher with Lemonade, please." He hands over his Amex Platinum card, which I know has unlimited funds on it. I try to squeeze in my change to the cashier, but Corey just uses his palm to shove my hand away from the counter and gives me a look that says - seriously?

  With a sigh, I pocket my change and wait patiently for my drink. I am not someone that likes to be taken care of, but I guess I can also appreciate that I can save what little money I do have.

  Once we have our drinks in hand, we decide to go sit in the outdoor seating area. It's sixty degrees outside – which is
so unusual for Minnesota in the spring. Might as well take advantage of it while we can.

  "So," Corey begins, "I spoke with my parents over the weekend about you having to move to this God-awful place." He wrinkles his nose up in distaste. "They have known you for years, babe, and they would be fine with you moving into our spare bedroom for the remainder of senior year."

  I sit there with my cup held up to my mouth, not drinking, not blinking, nothing. Going home for the rest of the year? Going back to my friends and my school? It sounds like an absolute dream. I'm about to say yes when one thought comes to mind.

  My mother.

  The thought of leaving her – of letting her wallow in the Shack by herself? It would kill her. I literally think she would drink herself to death, and that absolutely scares me.

  "Corey, I can't even tell you how much it means to me that you even went to the extent of asking your parents if it would be okay. I want to, I really do, but I can't." I frown, mad at myself for refusing such an offer.

  He looks shocked. "What? Why not?"

  "Because, my mom would never be okay with it. And even if she were, I would never abandon her like that. She is in such a bad spot right now. I really need to keep an eye on her."

  He sighs, knowing that it's the truth and that I will never, ever, leave my mom. He knows my shithole Sperm Donor father, and he knows that me and my mom are all each other have. Reaching forward, he grabs my hand and gives it a warm squeeze. "I understand. Just think about it, okay? I know you don't want to leave your mom, but I'm sure she would understand how important your education is. Do colleges want to see our five-star private school on your diploma? Or do they want to see the Grove High on your diploma?"

  I understand his reasoning, and he is one hundred percent right, but he's being pushy, and I hate pushy. I start to slide my hand out from underneath his when he grabs hold tightly and pulls them toward his body, making me move forward in the process.

  "Don't you see, Rose? I miss you, and I want to be with you. It was a mistake to take a break, I need you back. I love you, babe."