Reapers and Roses: (Grove High School Book One)

by A. R. Breck

  I glance over at Mom, noticing the clear look in her eyes and am surprised once again to find that she actually looks sober. Is this where she has been sneaking off to after work? I thought she was at a bar, or even worse, hooking.

  "Pleased to meet you, Rose. I have heard so much about you."

  "I can't say the same about you." I say bluntly.

  His cheeks turn slightly red which surprises me. Who is this man?

  "Rose! Be nice." She scolds.

  I clear my throat of the bitchiness. "Nice to meet you, Jeff."

  "Would you like to eat dinner with us? There is more than enough." He waves his hand at the takeout, and I think he's honestly nervous to be around me.

  "Oh, no. That's okay. I think I'm just going to go to my room. Have a good night."

  "Rose-" My mom starts, but I cut her voice off with the close of my door.

  Sitting down on my bed, I cringe as the metal frame creaks with each movement.

  It's times like this – times where my uncertainty about everything is so overwhelming, so consuming, that I wish to disappear. I wish for things to go back to the way they were before. Back to when I had nothing to worry about besides gossip and my hairstyle for the day.

  Now, none of that matters. All that matters now is finding out how to survive day to day.

  I hear my mom giggle from the other room and wrinkle my nose in disgust.

  Fucking gross. Mom now gets more dick than I do.

  My phone buzzes in my purse and I bend down to pick it up, seeing a message from Corey.

  Corey: Hey, what's up?

  Hey, what's up? Like he thinks we just went to the movies last weekend, not that he just freaked me out and almost kidnapped me earlier today. That – and Easton basically threatened him with death if he so much as thought about me.

  This guy has balls.

  I'm about to set my phone on my nightstand when it buzzes again.

  Corey: I know you're reading this. I just wanted you to know…you guys fucked up today. You will all regret it.

  My brows furrow at his message. What does he mean by that? Regret what? Him nearly assaulting me at the park earlier and being stopped? Yeah, I'm totally going to regret that.

  I'm staring at my phone when it vibrates again, only this time it's not from Corey. It's from Easton.

  Easton: You good?

  Rose: Yeah. Are you?

  Easton: Yeah. I'm sorry about earlier… about Rich. I didn't think he would be home.

  Rose: It's okay. He's just a little scary. Lol.

  That's putting it mildly. I thought I was going to pee my pants.

  Easton: Yeah. Sorry about that.

  Easton is actually apologizing for something?

  The three bubbles appear showing that he is typing another message, and then they disappear. This happens a couple of times before another message pops up.

  Easton: I had a good time today.

  Well, since he's obviously not talking about the incident with Corey, he must be talking about our heated moment in his room. The thought of it makes me melt into a puddle of arousal.

  Rose: I had a good time too.

  Easton: Yeah?

  Rose: Yeah.

  Easton: Good.

  Nothing else comes after that, so I set my phone down and lay back on my bed. I'm not going to keep texting, since we seem to be prone to fighting at the drop of a hat. I don't really want to jinx the moment we just had.

  I close my eyes and think about Easton's hands trailing across my body and leaving fire in its tracks until I'm drifting off to sleep. That is, until my phone buzzes again.

  Easton: Have a good night, baby.

  And then I fall asleep with a smile on my face.

  ◆◆◆

  In the morning, I wake up and get ready for school, opting for a pair of ripped jeans and an off the shoulder cashmere sweater. It's a bit cooler than it's been the last few weeks, and I'm going to take today as an excuse to be comfy.

  Walking out into the kitchen, I see my Mom sitting at the table with a cup of coffee in front of her and her phone in her hands. She glances up when I reach the kitchen.

  "Good morning, Rose. How did you sleep?"

  "Fine…" Her nice demeanor is throwing me for a loop. Since moving here, she has been in a chronically bad mood, drunk mood, or I'm still wealthy mood. She seems almost…normal.

  At least Jeff didn't spend the night. Or, maybe he did. But at least he left before I woke up.

  "Sit down, would you? I wanted to speak with you about something."

  Oh God, here it comes.

  I sit down next to her and wait for her to start. She looks down into her mug, slightly tapping her finger nails on the handle.

  "Mom, what is it?" I ask, losing patience. If she doesn't hurry, I'm going to be late for school.

  "Oh, sorry. What did you think about Jeff?"

  "I have no thoughts about Jeff. I don't know anything about him."

  "Rose, would you cut the shit? You never used to be this… bold before we moved here. What are these kids teaching you?"

  I scoff and roll my eyes. This fucking woman. "Maybe I've always been this way and I'm not afraid to speak my mind anymore. Have you thought about that?"

  She sighs but says nothing else.

  "Jeff. What about him? You guys are dating or something?"

  "Yes, as a matter of fact, we are. And Rose, he's really kind and I would like for you to give him a chance. He's a good man. I wouldn't bring him around if he was anything but. He's a hard worker and…" She trails off and looks unsure before she looks up at my face. I'm surprised to see actual tears in her eyes. "He has been helping me with my drinking. I know you have noticed that since we've moved here, I've gotten a little… out of control."

  I cover my snort with a small cough, but I think she realizes I'm just being an ass.

  "He noticed there was something going on and came and asked me about it one weekend when we were closing down the office. We ended up talking for hours, Rose. Hours. He's a divorced man and had a drinking problem shortly after he got separated, but he overcame it and he is helping me overcome my own problems. He's helping me."

  She wants so badly for me to believe her, to trust her. She wants me to trust him, too, by the looks of it.

  I just… can't.

  "Okay." I say, only to appease her.

  "Okay? Does that mean you will give him a chance?"

  "A chance for what, exactly?"

  "To be in our lives. I really like him, Rose. And I know you would like him too, if you gave him the chance."

  "I'm not looking for a father."

  Her face turns red as the anger finally catches up to her. "I'm not asking for that! All I want is for you to give him a chance. Maybe I can finally be happy, for once in my life!" She screams.

  I pity her, honestly. She thinks that she's had this horrible life when she's gotten a lump sum of money deposited into her account every month so that she can go shopping, go on trips, or have lunch dates with her friends. When there are people who actually have shitty lives, like Cara, who gets abused by their stepfather.

  A feeling ripples through me, and it's becoming my friend.

  The feeling of disgust.

  "Sure, whatever. I have to go." I get up and forgo any kind of breakfast this morning and walk towards the front door.

  "Rose! Do not walk away from me! We are not finished here!" She yells from the kitchen table.

  I turn around when I'm at the front door, ready to explode this bottle of rage so I can go on with my day. "You know what, Mother? Your life has been nothing but a fucking box of chocolates your whole life. You have had shit handed to you left and right without any sense of struggle. Even when we moved here, you were lucky enough to land a job right away and find us a decent enough house to put a roof over our heads. You sit here, every fucking night, with a bottle of wine and drink yourself into a stupor because your life is so fucking hard. Well you know what? I'm done. Is this Jeff gu
y good for you? I don't fucking know, and I don't fucking care! Date him, marry him, whatever. Just leave me the hell out of it! I can't take your whining and complaining anymore! Talk to me when that bottle is down for good, how about that." My voice is hoarse at the end of my speech, but I figure I did good enough by the way her jaw is nearly hanging to the floor.

  I turn around, open the front door and slam it shut behind me, glad to have gotten that dynamite off my chest that has been building up since we moved here.

  I stomp off to my car and am already backing out of the driveway before I even have my door closed. All I know is – I'm not dealing with this drama today. If I had it my way, I would bury these problems so deep that they would never be able to find their way out of the ground.

  Ugh, I fucking wish.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Easton

  Anger is an acid that can do more harm to the vessel in which it is stored than to anything on which it is poured. ― Mark Twain

  The worst part of my day is when I get a call from my dad or Hugo saying that the boys and I are needed on a run. What's even worse than that, is when it's on a day that I'm supposed to be in the gym all day.

  "Don't worry. It should be quick. Hugo will be with you, and we just need to figure out if Sanders is up to something or not." Rich says from the couch. He has wormed his way into this place and I can't find an escape no matter what I do.

  "What happened to laying low and just waiting for the shoe to drop?"

  He waves me away. "Hugo heard that some shit is going on and I need you to keep your eyes and ears open. If we lose out on a shipment because of Sanders, someone is going to fucking pay!" He points his long finger in my direction like he can pull some imaginary trigger and blow my brains out. "This is why I need you guys there. There is no one I trust more than you guys."

  Rich woke me up this morning by pounding on my door and telling me to get dressed for a run. This sucks, because I'm supposed to be training today. My schedule is pretty strict before a fight, mostly the day before. That – and now I got a text from Cara saying she's throwing a party tomorrow night. I'm going to have to go to that too, because I can't just sit down and let some dumb fuck walk up and try to pull a sly one on Rose. Not that she would fall for any other joke of a guy here, but I'm still not going to chance it.

  Which means I need to cram all of my training in a short amount of time.

  Hugo is going to drive us to Plymouth to get the job done. Hopefully this is quick and there are no sightings or Sanders of any of his minions. If there is – well, this whole day might as well get flushed down the shitter.

  I hear both Jackson and Logan walking up to the door – thanks to the thin walls of the trailer – and open it up before they can knock. They both give me a solemn look before going and saying hello to Rich. They both know that this day needs to go quick or training is going to be hell today.

  "Boys. Good morning. Ready for the day?"

  "Yes, sir." They both say. Like I've said before, they both want to end up working in the family business. They were made for this shit.

  I don't.

  Rich's phone rings with a text notification and he glances down at it briefly before looking up at us. "Hugo just arrived. I want you three to keep a watchful eye for anything that might seem out of place. Anyone with shifty eyes or looking out of place at all – move in on them. Figure out what's going on. No mistakes today. All right?"

  "Yes, sir." All three of us say in unison.

  "Good, good. What I always like to say is - kill or be killed. Don't get killed, all right?"

  We all give him a nod before walking out the door and into Hugo's SUV.

  ◆◆◆

  Pulling up to the location in Plymouth about forty minutes later, I can sense it's not only me that is ready to get to work. I can feel the excited energy vibrating out of my two friends next to me. They, just like me, are always ready for a fight and to spill some blood.

  Walking into the Plymouth warehouse, it's mostly like the others we occupy around Minnesota. Large and empty, the walls are cement slabs that make you wonder if they have always been this color or if someone intentionally painted them a deathly grey just to ward off any intruders.

  Inside the warehouse the ground floor is filled with tables set up in the center of the room where our guys are separating and weighing out the various bags of cocaine for shipment. Everything looks to be running smoothly as of the moment, the quiet but quick workers making sure things can get done in the short period of time we have.

  Hugo, also noticing the ease of the workers, goes over and stands by the door we just walked through, making that his spot to guard and oversee everyone.

  "I'm going to go walk the perimeter." Logan says, patting his pants where his glock sits before walking out.

  Me and Jackson walk around and talk briefly with those we know and watch over of those we don't. After about an hour, things start to be wrapping up when I notice a shadow flickering from one of the far hallways.

  I look over at Jackson to see if he noticed, but he's too focused on the workers and watching for any suspicious activity with them.

  I nudge him with my elbow. "I'm going to go check the south side."

  He gives me a small nod. "Looks like they are finishing up." I glance at the workers and notice them packing up the remaining product and starting to fill up the trucks. These will be transported to some of the major cities in Minnesota and around the United States.

  "I'll be back in a few." Looks like this run will end with no issues if it keeps going as is.

  I walk to the south side of the warehouse where I thought I saw someone walking. I walk light on my feet, not making a sound as I move from one hallway to the next.

  If there is someone in these hallways, I will find them. I always do.

  I hear some shuffling near the back exit and speed up my steps until I'm nearly running towards the source of the noise.

  A large body is trying to tiptoe towards the door, but the heavy footsteps he makes gives him away to anyone who is even remotely trained in this business.

  I was, at least.

  Just as he is about to open the door, I wrap one arm around his neck and use the other to lodge my gun into his back. One shot and it will go straight into his heart.

  Bang. Dead.

  The man coughs and tries to get away, but I squeeze my arm tighter, cutting off the blood supply and having him gurgle for air in the process.

  Once he's calm enough, I swing him around so his back slams up against the door. He's trapped, and from the knowing, panicked look on his face, he knows it too.

  What's even more shocking is who it is trying to escape the warehouse.

  Someone who has been missing for months.

  "Leonard?" I growl, swinging my gun up until it's pressing up against his temple. Hair as dark as night - just like Rose's. The eyes are slightly smaller than Rose's, and Rose's lips are much more plump than his, but other than that, I definitely see the resemblance between the two. His hair is cut into a military cut - short to the scalp. He's barely aged throughout the years except for the laugh lines around his eyes have become much more pronounced.

  "E-E-Easton. P-please don't shoot. Let me explain."

  "You've got about thirty seconds until I put a bullet in your head. What the fuck are you doing here, Leonard?"

  "Please. I'm not the bad guy. I-I didn't run away with the money, I promise. The whole thing is just so messed up. You wouldn't even believe the shit that's been going on." He starts chuckling and shaking his head like his cat that's been missing has finally come home.

  I throw a swift punch to his gut.

  He bends over and groans, attempting to cough through the pain.

  "Leonard, I'm sorry. You must be mistaking me for someone who fucking cares. Me? I don't. Where. The fuck. Is the money? Where the hell have you been? Most importantly, why are you here? Every solution in my mind means that you're working for Sanders. Are you a
fucking rat, Leonard? Are you the big rat that's been sneaking around on us?"

  The attempt at joking is gone from his eyes and in its place is pale, wide eyes almost as white as his skin at this point. Dude looks like he's going to pass out.

  "Sanders thinks I'm working for him, but I'm not! I'm not, Easton. You have to believe me. He wants me to get some intel for him, but he doesn't realize I'm trying to get some information on them, for you. I had to move the money out of the laundry business or they never would have believed me when I told them the story. I've been staying low for you, Easton. For Rich."

  His head is wobbling like a bobble head and all I can do is stare at him and try to decipher if he's being even remotely serious at this point.

  Could this all be a misunderstanding?

  Would one of Rich's most loyal, most long-time workers, really be a rat for Sanders?

  But if Leonard isn't the rat, that means that someone still is.

  Most of all - this stupid pussy is seriously Rose's father? I see where her daddy issues come from.

  "What are you doing here Leonard? Whether or not you're working for Sanders, how in the world did you know this shipment was happening today? You have been gone for months. There is no way you could have found us here unless you heard something from someone."

  "Um...uhh... oh damn." He pulls on the collar of his shirt and starts sweating profusely. "I've been, uh, following you."

  "You've been... following me?" I deadpan.

  "Not for long. And I don't mean following-following you. I just mean, I needed to speak to you without getting shot from Rich, and I don't know. Hah. I just, you know, needed to talk with you. I have some information for Rich... you know, information on Sanders." He wipes his brow with a shaky palm, and I'm not sure if he's on some drugs or if he is that bad of a liar.