by A. R. Breck
Jason mumbles incoherently, which only heightens Rich's anger. Walking over to Jason, he grabs the corner of the tape and rips it off as hard as he can. I hear the facial hairs being pulled out of Jason's face, and it's taking all my might to keep from wincing.
That shit must have hurt. He deserves it, though.
"Jason, I really don't enjoy repeating myself. I've got better things to do than saying the same thing over and over again, don't you think?" He frowns down at Jason, and Jason looks like a bobble head with his head shaking in such a spastic motion that I'm almost worried he's going to snap his neck in half.
Would at least save me the trouble.
"Do you remember the training you went through before you starting to work for me?"
"Y-y-yes."
"Do you remember the clause that states what happens if you so much as leak, steal, or attempt to be a rat in my operations?"
"Yes!" His voice cracks and he half sounds like a pig squealing from his broken tone. "Please, I will do anything. I beg you, oh, God! Please!" He tries lifting his hands in a prayer motion but they are tied down on the arms of the chair he is sitting in and can't move more than a half inch.
Rich looks at Jason with no pity and more along the lines of a dog shitting on his shoe. Turning back towards me, he tells me, "I want you to take care of it. I was going to have Hugo handle it, but it's been a while since you've gotten your hands dirty." Hands dirty, as in adding a body to my kill count.
Rich asked me here to kill someone. Can anyone say father of the year? I can't lie and say this will be my first, either. Anyone who works for Rich has murdered at least one person while working here. And if you haven't had your hands full of blood, then you have at least been involved in something that has had its hands full of blood – and you are just as guilty.
No one is a saint when you work in this business.
I give a nod to Rich before turning towards a sobbing Jason. He's begging and pleading for mercy, and snot and tears are covering his face with more piling up every second. I ignore his cries for help, push back the few emotions that I have inside of me and grab my glock from the back of my pants that I slipped in there after exiting my truck. Lifting it up so it's eye level with Jason's forehead, I repeat a mantra in my head that I have been saying since I've been a child, and I pull the trigger.
No mercy.
Jason's head lobs forward and reveals the mass of blood and brain matter splayed across the cement walls. The smell of death is almost too overpowering in this basement. I try to breathe out of my mouth and not smell the pathetic remains of Jason. I tuck my glock back into my waist and turn to Rich.
"Good job, son." He lays his hand on my shoulder for a moment before readjusting his suit and motioning for us to leave the room.
Son.
It's so rare that he ever shows any kind of emotion with me that it nearly halts me in my tracks when I hear the word son coming out of his mouth.
Is murder what it takes to have his affection?
No. Because there is no affection where Rich is concerned. If he shoved the love of his life out of his life, he is about as emotionless as a rock.
I wipe some splattered blood off my forehead and follow Rich back up the rickety stairs of the warehouse. When we reach the top, we pass Hugo who gives us a nod before looking to Rich for guidance.
Rich turns towards me. "Easton, we will talk later. I have to head out to Illinois with Hugo on some business, but should be back tomorrow afternoon." So, it's Easton again. Noted.
With a nod towards me and another pat on my shoulder, Rich and Hugo walk towards Rich's office, and I'm dismissed.
I walk back out to my truck with only a single-minded focus.
Time to find my Rose.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Rose
Never test another man by your own weakness. ― Joseph Conrad
I'm half surprised when school gets out and Easton is nowhere to be seen. I figured with how I left things, he would be standing there with a heavy scowl and caveman presence.
I see Logan and Jackson talking over by their vehicles, and I'm sure if they end up noticing me they will follow me until Easton comes back from wherever the hell he went.
I don't even look for Cara. I just hop in my car and start the drive over to the park where I'm supposed to meet up with Corey.
I'm not sure what his deal is or why he is so persistent with meeting up with me. I moved away, why does he feel the need to get back with me now? Hell, when I lived there most recently, we were barely even hanging out anymore.
It's just odd. The whole thing is odd.
Pulling up into the mostly empty parking lot, I spot Corey's Range Rover and pull up next to it. I hop out and look into the window of the Range Rover.
Hmm, empty.
I walk around the park, the dried yellow grass crunching underneath my heels. These parks aren't what I'm used to in Woodbury. Those parks would have the most high-end playground equipment, a pavilion, restrooms, picnic tables, and luscious green grass with flower beds.
This park in the Grove – yellow stained grass, dry and unkempt. An old school swing and metal slide that is bound to burn you on a hot day and go squeeeeaaak as your thighs stick to it on your way down.
There is one lone bench off to the side, and even an outhouse on the far side of the park next to a small baseball field. Sitting on the bench though, is Corey. And he is staring at me like he wants to eat me alive.
I stop in my tracks, not used to receiving this type of look from him. His eyes make fear start jumping around inside of me, something I've never felt when I've been around Corey. His hair is wild today, not in its usual gelled to the side style. Something is different about him, and I guess I'm about to find out what that is.
Hesitantly, I walk over to him and give him a small wave. "Hi, Corey. What's up?"
His eyes are red rimmed and his nose looks raw. Is he sick?
"Rose, baby. I missed you." He gets up and gives me a hug before pulling me down on the bench next to him.
"Is everything all right? You don't look well." His knee is bouncing at a fast pace and I have to refrain from pressing on his knee to stop the jiggling of the bench.
"Yeah! Yeah, everything is fine. I just miss you. Things aren't the same without you, and I've been wanting to see you, but you've been hanging out…" He stops and sighs before continuing, "I mean, you had to move here, in this disgusting town. Seriously, I feel bad that you have to live like this. The people here, they're bad news. I think about you all the time in this filthy city and I can't help but think that you should reconsider my offer on coming to live with me." His words are jumbled together and spit out at a rapid pace. It's almost too fast to keep up.
When he looks up at me with his red rimmed eyes and his jittery body non-stop moving, I finally realize what is going on with him.
He's high.
I try to scoot away from him a bit and get some relief from his heavy stare, but he notices and gets a nasty look on his face.
"What's wrong, you don't like me anymore or something? You interested in the grungy poor kids now? I saw those guys who ambushed us and took you from Starbucks. I've heard of them. Those fucking Reapers. Is that what you're interested in now?" Spit flies from the corner of his mouth and I am officially terrified.
Who is this, and what has he done with sweet ol' Corey?
"N-no, Corey. That's not it at all. You will always my friend. I just think – I think we're better off as friends." I internally cringe at my weak tone.
"Friends?" His face slowly grows red in anger. "Friends? You think I want to be friends? Is there somebody else now? Finally let someone pop that cherry?"
"Corey! You are the one that broke up with me!" I stand up and put my hands on my hips. He has always been a good kid, where are these cruel words coming from?
He turns from furious to pleading in the blink of an eye. "Baby, I never should have broken up with you. I'm sorry. I miss you and
I want you back. Please, babe." He looks moments away from getting down on his knees.
His hot and cold attitude is giving me whiplash.
"Corey… we broke up because you didn't want to be tied down. You wanted to play the field, which I think was for the best. I wasn't ready to be in a serious relationship or have sex…or any of that!"
"I'm not asking for it now! I just want you!" He shouts.
"Why, though? Why now? We don't live near each other. We don't go to the same school. We probably aren't even going to the same college."
"I don't care about any of that! Everything that I did, it was a mistake, and I'm here to make things right." The determined look in his eyes doesn't calm me even though his tone returns to normal. I'm glad we're at a park where there are no kids. If we were back in Woodbury, the police probably would have been called on us by now for a domestic dispute.
I take a step back, ever so slightly. Then another. He is creeping me out, and my fight of flight instinct is telling me to flight on this one.
"I'm sorry, Corey. I think we're better off as friends." His eyes narrow as he watches me step away from him, which only makes me want to get away even more.
I glance down at my phone. "Shit. I totally forgot I need to meet with my mom at home for dinner. Let's talk later, okay?" I give him a smile to reassure him, but I think it does the opposite.
Because he advances on me way too quickly.
Grabbing my wrist, he yanks me to him and I yelp out in pain. "Corey, let go. You're hurting me!" I attempt to yank my hand away, but he only grips it harder.
"I'm not going to let you be some little slut to some hood rats." He mumbles in my ear as he starts pulling me towards his car.
Digging my feet in the ground, I nearly trip when my heel falls off my foot and I stumble into him. "Please, Corey. Whatever is wrong, don't take it out on me! I haven't done anything!" I cry.
"Let fucking go over her. Right. Now." Booms a voice from behind me.
I startle and turn around, seeing Logan and Jackson walking towards us with anger written all over their face.
Corey grabs me even tighter and yanks me towards his chest. "Leave us the hell alone. We don't want any trouble. Do we, baby?" He looks down at me with a crazy look in his eyes and squeezes my wrist so tightly I'm afraid he's going to break my wrist.
I cry out in pain and watch as both Logan and Jackson snap into attention, walking towards me with clear purpose written in their features.
Jackson walks up behind Corey and grabs onto his neck, squeezing until Corey releases his hold on me. Logan comes up behind me and swoops me up, getting me a far enough distance away from Corey. Squatting down, he looks at me with a protectiveness I'm not used to seeing in his eyes. "Are you all right?" He looks me over as if inspecting me for injuries.
"I'm okay-" I stop and turn around at the sound of tires screeching.
Easton parks his truck sideways in the parking lot and comes flying out, giving me a glance before continuing his walk over to Corey and slamming his fist right into Corey's cheek.
"Easton!" I screech. Shit. Bad move.
"What?" He barks at me, nearly making me shrink back into myself.
"You can't hit him."
"Why the fuck not?" Great, his fury makes me realize I'm going to be hopping from one psychopath to the next.
"Because his father will get you arrested. He's a hot shot attorney over in Woodbury. You can't afford that. You have a fight on Saturday."
His fist falls to his side as he looks at his boys. They solemnly nod their head in agreement. Bending down, he gets an inch away from Corey's face. "If you so much as even look in Rose's direction ever again, it won't matter who your daddy is because you will be fucking dead. Do you hear me?" He growls and goosebumps scatter across my arms.
Corey is now trembling even more, but I think this time it's out of fear and not from the drugs running through his system. He starts to look towards me but Easton uses his elbow and crashes it into his eye, making Corey groan out in pain. "What the fuck did I just tell you? Do you want to die? Do. Not. Look. At. Her. Don't breathe near her. Don't even whisper her fucking name. Do you understand?" Their noses are nearly touching at this point.
Easton's face blood red with fury.
Corey's face is white as a sheet.
My mouth is gaping like a fish.
"Yes." Corey surrenders, his voice wobbly and without its usual cocky tone.
Easton smiles at him, but the smile holds no friendliness. He pats his cheek a couple times – more like slap - before standing and looking down at him. "Good. Now get the fuck out of my town before I change my mind."
This time, Corey doesn't even look at me. He keeps his face towards the yellow, dried up grass and shuffles over to his Range Rover. He speeds out of the tiny lot, kicking up dust in his wake and leaving us all standing there in complete silence.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Rose
I wanna be somebody else. ― P!nk
"Come on." Easton growls out of nowhere, grabbing onto my wrist and yanking me towards him.
I glance back towards Logan and Jackson, seeing they aren't the least bit phased by Easton's caveman ways anymore. They both give Easton a nod before walking off towards Logan's and my car.
I look over at Easton, ready to make a comment when I the anger bleeding from his face.
If looks could kill…
I zip my lips and let him pull me all the way to his truck. He yanks open the door with unnecessary force before grabbing me by the waist and plopping me down on the passenger seat. He looks me over once making sure I’m okay, then grunts and slams the door shut.
I watch him outside the truck as he rounds the front, clenching his fists with his black eyes and heavy scowl.
He clenches his jaw, enhancing the sharp lines of his cheekbones and making him look even more untouchable.
"Shit…" I whisper under my breath. Why is he turning me on? I don't know how my body can even think about being turned on right now.
He drives me crazy. Absolutely fucking crazy. That – and I swear if we are forced to be together for more than thirty minutes, one of us will end up going Dateline on the other. Someone will end up killed, that's all I know.
So, how is he making me feel these lustful feelings? And more than that… when he's around, I just feel… protected. Even in his most angry state, there is just a part of me that knows I'm not the one in danger. All the times that he has come to my rescue since I've moved here, I feel like he's someone that I can count on. Even at times when I don't want to count on him at all.
Like now.
I don't want him to think that I need to be carried through the horrors of my new life, or that I need a babysitter to handle all of my messes. I'm independent, and I really only want to prove to everyone that I have the ability to take care of myself.
Shit, I guess I have been taking care of myself for a while now. I don't need anyone to step in and tell me what's what.
But – I can't deny that there is something about Easton's aloofness that reels me in. This push and pull ends up with me being pulled in. The pull is so strong, it's pointless to fight it at this point.
I like Easton Malone.
He hops in his truck and I do my best to school my features so he can't read the revelation I'm having that I'm sure is painted all throughout my face. By the way he is huffing and puffing and about to blow my damn house down, I'm sure he's oblivious to the freak out I'm internally having right now.
He cranks his car on and pulls out of the lot, starting in the direction of his house and away from mine. "Logan and Jackson will deal with your car." He says between gritted teeth, apparently barely able to reign in his anger.
I peek behind me and see Jackson getting into my car, then reach down into my purse and see that my keys are missing. How did they…?
I shake my head. These guys are too sneaky for their own good. They shouldn't go into the drug dealing business. They should
go be a secret FBI agent or something. They would be good at that.
I don't respond to Easton. I'm not sure what I'm feeling at the moment, and I think I'd rather just mull it over on the ride to wherever the hell we're going instead of starting up a whole new argument about absolutely nothing.
I'm angry. I'm angry that Corey had to treat me like this and ruin our lifelong friendship over stupid drug habits and a crush. If it is even a crush. Maybe the drugs are just taking over his mind and he's not even thinking clearly. I'm mad that he put me in the position where I once again looked like the victim. He has never been this aggressive with me, and I’m super fucking angry that he had to go all grabby on me.
I'm sad. I'm sad that I've lost a friend, and that I've lost what I'm assuming is my final ties back to Woodbury. This is where I belong now.
But most of all, I'm… turned on. All of these mixed feelings are leading me to feeling both hopeful and helpless at the same time. More than anything, I just want to be someone else for a while. I want to let go of Rose Strauss from Woodbury, and be Rose Strauss from the Grove.
I don't want to worry about who I should be, and for the first time in what feels like ever, I want to just… live. Experience what every other high school kid gets to experience in life without worrying about the stupid shit that every single red-blooded human in Woodbury frets over on a daily basis.
With these thoughts, I finally sit back in Easton's car and let go of all the bullshit, and just be. No more worrying about Corey. No more worrying about my mom. From this point forward, I'm just going to worry about myself.
A few moments later, Easton pulls up to his house – still fuming, I might add. While I sit on the other end of his truck, feeling as light as a feather.
He switches the car off with a flick of his wrist before hopping out and walking over to my side of the car. Opening the door, he gives me a look that could cut glass. "Get out."
"Rude." I mumble under my breath. Way to ruin my good mood.
