Reapers and Roses: (Grove High School Book One)

by A. R. Breck

  "I've never been anywhere." She sounds sad when she says this.

  "Someday." I give her wrist a squeeze and a warm smile.

  "Yeah. Someday." She snaps out of her sadness and looks over at me. "Okay. You're ready? Let's go then." Cara says.

  We shout goodbye to my mom and then head out.

  Ready to make it a night to remember.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Easton

  Violence give me violence. – A Day to Remember

  An hour before the fight is set to start, the worst possible thing happens.

  Rich shows up.

  "You all ready for tonight?" He asks with a cigar hanging out of his mouth and his hands shoved into his pockets, exuding authority and power. Not something I'm really in the mood to be around right now.

  "Yep." Before a fight, I have a specific routine that I go through, and I rarely, and by rarely, I mean never, deviate from my routine. So, for Rich to show up here unannounced is not good for my mentality right now.

  "Have you heard from Leonard?" I ask while I finish out my stretching.

  "Nope. Hugo received a message earlier that he was going to show up here after the fight. So, here I am. If he's hoping I'll sit here while he makes a run for it, he has another thing coming. I have some people keeping a watch around town. If he tries anything stupid, we'll catch him."

  Only one thing caught my interest in his sentence. "Leonard is coming here?" Shit, Rose will probably lose her shit if she finds out her dad is here.

  "Yes. Is that a problem, Easton?" He looks at me with narrowed eyes and dread sinks into my stomach. He is fucking testing me with this. He knows Rose will be here and he wants to see if she is in on anything.

  "No, sir."

  "Good. Good, then. I will let you get to it. Good luck tonight. Let's meet after and go over what our next steps are with Sanders."

  "Okay."

  With a nod, Rich heads out and I'm back to the silence.

  Jackson and Logan are around here somewhere. They usually stay out of my way, but close enough that if I need them for anything, they're there. Probably somewhere with my trainer, Duke, going over the fight that will be a walk in the park for me.

  My mind flits to Rose, and I have to tamp down my erection that starts twitching at even the thought of her. Her smooth body, her floral scent, her soft moans.

  "Fuck." I shake my thoughts free from Rose and try to focus on my fight. I might be the best fighter in Minnesota, but being too distracted can cost anyone a fight.

  "Ready to get started, man? Time to head out there." Jackson says from the doorway.

  "Yeah. Where's Logan?"

  "The girls just got here. You should have seen the look on Logan's face, dude. He just about fucking sprinted to the door."

  I laugh. "He's so whipped."

  "Yeah, well. He has been since elementary school. Only difference is now he's got the pussy too. He's never going to want to come up for air now."

  "Shit, ain't that the truth." I grunt.

  He gives me a look. "Pussy is going to get you killed, brother."

  "Jackson, if Rose's pussy is the cause of my death, I will die a happy man." I go and give him a pat on the back. "Don't worry, you will get it. Someday."

  "I fucking hope not." He grumbles. "Whatever, let's go. You got a fight to win."

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Rose

  If you can't be a good example, at least be a horrible warning. - Aileen Wuornos

  "Ladies, looking hot as always." Logan says when he opens the back door to the Pit for us. He gives Cara a look that makes her swoon and melt into a puddle at her feet.

  "Let's hurry up. You don't have to stand with everyone else today. You get special VIP passes on the side of the ring." He winks at us and ushers us inside.

  And once again, the apprehension of being here takes hold. Every single time I enter this building, something happens. The first time I come here – I almost get assaulted by a homeless guy. The second time I come here – I get jumped by a group of nasty sluts.

  What is going to happen this time? In the pit of my stomach, I can just feel the urge to flee the building growing with each passing second. I should go, I know I should just go before something happens and irreparable damage hits.

  But, before I get the chance, the crowd swallows us up in the noise and excitement of the fight about to start. I look in every direction and only see energetic bodies ready to see blood.

  There is no getting out now.

  The fast-paced dance music is thumping from the speakers so loudly, I wouldn't be able to talk even if I tried. Logan has a hold around Cara's waist, who is holding onto my hand as we're being dragged to the side of the ring. We go up a few steps and then are on a platform of sorts above everyone else. There are minimal people up here, but with all of the people in this building, it still feels incredibly packed.

  "The guy tonight, Luke Jakes, should be a walk in the park. Not sure what Easton's even fighting him for, to be honest. Last time they fought, Luke had such a bad concussion, he was out the rest of the year. Surprised he didn't get a brain injury from that one." He shrugs. "I guess we'll see tonight."

  The moment the lights dim and the music shuts off, you can feel the anticipation level rise about a million notches in this room. The smell of eagerness, sweat, and liquor fills the room.

  The announcer, who I now know goes by the name of Erickson, amps up the crowd as he introduces Luke and Easton. Easton, obviously, draws the crowd into louder, more excited cheers.

  "Now let's get to it!" Erickson shouts, hopping out of the ring like his ass is on fire.

  Both Easton and Luke step up to each other, ready to be the winner. But only one will succeed.

  For a brief second, Easton glances over at me and locks me in our classic stare. He doesn't hold it long though, because before I know it, he reels his fist back and clocks it in Luke's face, making him stumble back against the rope surrounding the edge of the ring.

  Shaking his head, Luke clears the fogginess from his brain and charges towards Easton like a bull. Easton is prepared for it, dodging each jab and uppercut that Luke is trying to hit him with.

  This goes on for quite some time - Easton dodging each hit that Luke tries to make and Luke getting socked left and right.

  It finally gets to a point where Luke is dripping blood and it seems like he is down for the count, when suddenly, he swings his leg out and Easton drops down like a sack of bricks.

  I think everyone gasps at the same moment. I think Luke is even surprised that he was able to land any kind of a move on the Reaper.

  Easton doesn't stay on the ground long. I can feel an immense amount of rage building all the way from this side of the ring. Easton lifts himself off the ground like he's as light as a feather, and in a flash is in front of Luke, tossing hit after hit in his direction.

  Luke's momentary lead is long gone as he lays on the ground, trying to block any and every hit that Easton lands on him.

  I see the moment that Luke's light dims. He goes from blocking the hits to a bloody body lying on the ground. Erickson comes out to state Easton is once again the winner, and Logan and Jackson have to come into the ring to pretty much pry him off of Luke's body.

  Easton is pissed. I haven't seen him fall even once to the ground in all the times I've seen him fight – and I think what makes him even more angry is the fact that Luke was supposed to be an easy win.

  I know he feels weak because of his fall. But he shouldn't. Because he still beat him by a mile and then some.

  The rage and darkness coming off of him is frightening. Even I don't think it is a good idea to confront him right now.

  Logan and Jackson usher Easton off of the stage after the cheering dies down and Cara grabs my hand. "Let's go get a drink. Easton seemed pretty pissed so I'm sure it's going to be a little bit before they come out."

  "Okay." Damn. I've never seen Easton that angry before. If they wouldn't have pulled E
aston off of Luke, I'm almost certain Easton would have killed him.

  Shoving ourselves through the people, we make it to the bar and order our usual vodka lemonade. "There's a lot of people here tonight." I say, watching the crowds of people move around like waves in the ocean.

  "Yeah, I'm not sure why, honestly. This wasn't even supposed to be a big fight." She furrows her brow in concern. "Easton seemed pretty pissed, I hope that they make it out here soon."

  "Yeah." I frown into my drink. I knew tonight was going to suck.

  We sit there for an hour until both Cara and I can't take it anymore. Neither of us feels like dancing, so we've just been sitting here staring off into space waiting for the guys.

  Cara hops off her stool. "I'm going to go look for them. You coming?"

  "Let’s go." I leave my empty glass on the counter and follow her through the throngs of people. Once we make it to the entrance towards the back, I wish I never would have left the bar.

  The boys are standing there talking, and right in the middle is Easton with a woman shoving her barely restrained tits right in his face.

  He doesn't even seem interested. Actually, he still seems pretty angry, to be honest. But what's bothering me is that she's even standing there, basically petting his fucking chest with her disgusting, cheap, manicured hands in the first place. Easton is supposed to be mine, and the audacity some people have to still spread their legs for someone who is taken is terrible.

  "I'm not going to stand here and watch this. I'll be back, okay? I'm just going to go to the bathroom."

  "Let me come with you. I don't want to stand here and watch this shit, either."

  "No, I just need a moment, okay?" I rub my forehead because the tension headache that's coming on is making me want to go into a dark room and forget the world.

  "Rose, don't you remember what happened last time?" She worries her lip, and I know she's thinking the same thing I am.

  "Cara, I haven't seen any of those girls since the fight. No one has even looked at me funny at school. I'm going to go to the bathroom. You can tell Easton that I'll be back once this whore of a woman quits rubbing her tits all over his chest." And with that, I stalk off to the bathroom, angry as hell.

  I'm not angry at Easton, I'm just angry in general. He hasn't done anything wrong. I guess my jealousy issues with him are a little deeper than I initially thought. The women around him stand there panting like a dog in heat. I can't take it, and I don't want to have to see it every time we go out. What will it take – me to tattoo the word taken across his forehead in red ink?

  The darkness is surrounding me like a dark cloud on a stormy day.

  And the rain won't fucking go away.

  ◆◆◆

  Walking into the bathroom, I breathe a sigh of relief that there are only a few people in here. Less people to look at me like I'm a schizophrenic while I'm huffing around like a maniac.

  I'm irritated.

  I'm irritated that life wants to screw me over at every turn. I'm irritated that Easton can't punch that slut in the face like I wish he could. He's too good for that though. He might talk shit to her, call her names, but he will never put his hands on a woman just to get her away from him.

  I'm not that good of a person. That's why I had to walk away before I knew I would do something I'd regret.

  So, here I am, squatting in a stall and hovering over the toilet because it has so many diseases, I'm afraid to even think about it. I take my time, but once ten minutes have passed, I know I only have a few more minutes before Cara or Easton come looking for me.

  I flush with my foot and wash my hands, wrinkling up my nose at the coke head next to me in shorts so short she has more ass showing than what is covered.

  How is this my life now?

  Things have changed so drastically over such a short amount of time, I have a hard time believing this is nothing but a dream.

  I went from living in a fluffy cloud to living in a bucket full of shards of glass. I get cut left and right and by the end of the day, I don't know if there is any blood left to drain from my body.

  I like my friends, but these people and the places like this one – this building – or our school, is so run down and decrepit it's hard to believe I'm even living on the same continent.

  My mom finally seems happy though, and she deserves happiness. I'm happy too, in a way. And I will sacrifice my happiness of having to live here – even if it's only for a few more months – just to see my mom's happiness bloom.

  Even if mine might wilt. I just hope it doesn't.

  After drying my hands off with the paper towel, I toss it in the overflowing garbage bin with no bag and walk out, following the dark hallway back to the main room.

  What stops me though, is the noise of shuffling.

  My nosy ass can't help but want to find out where the source is coming from.

  I look left, then right, then left again and walk quietly towards the back offices that lead to the south exit.

  And what I see has my eyes nearly falling out of my head.

  Rich.

  Rich and a huge man, standing there holding some man up to a wall, although I can't see who the mystery man is. Two other men, who look suspiciously like Logan and Jackson. If I were to guess, I would have to say that those men are their fathers. One is tall, built, and has blondish hair that has mostly turned white. I would have to say that he is probably Logan's father, Collin Boyer.

  The other man standing there is quiet as a statue, much like how Jackson stands around every day. Must be Randall Shaw. His eyes and mouth are the same shape as Jackson's, and I know without a doubt, I'm going to watch something very, very bad happen.

  "P-please." Comes a garbled voice.

  My whole body is plastered behind the wall, shielding me from their sight. I wish I had some supersonic hearing or something, because I can only stretch my neck and ear out so far.

  "You have no right to beg or plead. You lost that right when you became a traitor." Shivers run down my spine at the tone of Rich's voice. It's the tone of death.

  Shit, I'm about to see Easton's dad murder someone. I want to flee, I even silently beg my body to flee, but my feet appear to be cemented to this sticky ground.

  "You have to let me explain. It's not what you think!" The man pleads, and I almost feel bad enough for him. But if he got himself into this position, he must have done something terrible.

  Right?

  "What does Sanders know?" Rich gets right to the point.

  "Nothing! I swear. He thinks I'm getting all this information for him, but really I'm just trying to help you!" I hear some shuffling and then "No! Please, I beg you. Please!"

  The curiosity gets the best of me. I peek my eyes around the corner and watch as a gun gets placed against the man's temple. I still can't see him properly; Rich's head is still blocking his face.

  "No one ever asked you to get information from him. Now – now you have put us in a precarious position. I'm sorry, Leonard. But you know the price."

  Leonard?

  The silent, but unmistakable sound of a bullet flies through the chamber and gets lodged into Leonard's skull. The silencer attached to the gun might have kept the sound to a minimum, but I swear, the sound of the bullet going into his head is something that will haunt me until the end of time.

  Rich steps away from the mystery man and reveals a fast falling Leonard.

  Leonard – my father.

  "Dad?" I whisper, then slap my hand over my mouth. Glancing around, I breathe a sigh of relief when I realize they didn't hear my slip up.

  I turn around and lean against the cement wall. Holy shit. I just saw someone get murdered. No, not just someone. I saw them murder my father. Not that it should really mean anything. The man is nothing to us.

  Nothing.

  I doubt me or my mother even flashed through his mind for a moment before his light went out.

  But still…

  Dead.

  Tears that I ne
ver – not in a million years – would have expected begin filling up in my eyes until the world in front of me is one blurry, jumbled mess.

  "Shit." I whisper, wiping at my face in fast motions as the tears fall one after another down my cheeks.

  When I hear movement behind me, I know I have to get out of here – and fast - before I get caught and get a bullet lodged in my brain, too.

  My feet start moving before my brain catches up, and before I know it, I'm opening the southside exit and am outside in the darkest alleyway known to man.

  I lean over and plant my hands up against the brick wall, breathing in and out in deep breaths in an attempt to slow my breathing.

  "Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God." I can't believe I just saw that. Am I supposed to tell someone? Am I supposed to tell Easton? Has Easton known about my father this whole time? Was this some sort of a ploy – some kind of a game to kill my father? What's next? Do I die next?

  I need to tell Easton. I need to find out if he had anything to do with this. He couldn't have, right? If he would have known, he would have been there with Rich as he shot my father.

  "Ohhhhh, shit." I groan.

  The stupid slut has long been forgotten and seems ridiculous to even complain about compared to now.

  They killed him with such nonchalance, like they were asking someone to pass the remote.

  Like they were asking if they should wear the blue or gray tie.

  Like they wanted to know if they should order red or white wine.

  "Damnit."

  The night air cools my skin, and soon I'm shivering so much, but I don't know if it's from the shock or the cold air.

  Once my tears have dried and I no longer feel on the verge of hyperventilation, I get ready to go head back inside when I feel a sense of dread wash over me.

  Not again.

  I glance over my shoulder and see a shadow lurking in the distance. When he steps out of the shadow, I'm relieved to see it's Corey. But that relief is short lived when I see the wild look in his eyes.