Choosing Rose (Other World Series Book Six)

by Ramona Gray

  “It doesn’t belong to us,” Solomon said. “We can’t just take it from them.”

  “Since when did you give a shit about anyone but yourself?” Randy asked.

  “Shut up, Randy,” Solomon said.

  “Fuck you. You aren’t my boss anymore,” Randy replied.

  “I’ve had just about enough of your fucking attitude. You think just because -”

  “I don’t need to listen to any of your shit anymore, Solomon. Keep your damn opinions to yourself about -”

  “Like I fucking care. You were nothing but a shit lab tech and you’re still -”

  “Both of you shut the fuck up,” Patrick snarled.

  His hand rested on the butt of the Glock 19 tucked into his waistband and Teagan frowned. Patrick didn’t have any bullets, just like the rest of them.

  Solomon turned on him, his usual pale face bright red with fury. “You know what, Patrick? I’m a little fucking tired of you telling me what to do. We’re not your damn SEALs and if you think you can just -”

  “I said, shut the fuck up.” Patrick pulled out his gun and pointed it at Solomon before pulling the trigger.

  The sound of the gunfire sent birds squawking from the trees and into the air in a colourful flight of blues and greens. Teagan, his ears ringing, stared blankly at Patrick.

  “What the fuck?” Wallace said.

  Solomon touched the black hole in the middle of his forehead before blinking slowly.

  “Solomon? Baby?” Marissa whispered.

  Blood poured from the hole in his forehead and he sank to his knees before collapsing on his face.

  “Solomon?” Marissa whispered again.

  Doc shook free of Brody’s grip and ran toward Solomon. He flipped him over and pressed his fingers against Solomon’s throat before staring at Teagan. “He’s dead.”

  “He’s what?” Marissa said. “He-he’s what?”

  “He’s dead,” Doc repeated. “I’m sorry.”

  “No,” Marissa fell to her knees next to Solomon, “no, he can’t be dead. Solomon, wake up, baby. Wake up right now.”

  She shook him roughly, his head lolled on his neck and already there was a large pool of blood on the ground beneath his head. Marissa began to cry, loud sobs that echoed throughout the jungle.

  “Patrick,” shock unfurled in Teagan’s belly, “what did you just fucking do?”

  Patrick shrugged and grabbed Talla’s wrist when she started to back away. “Where you goin’, sweetheart?”

  She froze, giving him an uncertain look as Teagan stepped toward them. “Patrick, you just fucking killed an unarmed civilian.”

  “One less mouth to feed,” Patrick said. “Now, let’s talk about how we’re gonna convince the blue alien to -”

  “Where the fuck did you get the bullets?” Davis asked as Marissa’s wails grew louder. “We ran out a week after we fucking got here.”

  “No, you ran out,” Patrick had to raise his voice to be heard over Marissa’s sobbing. “I was smart enough to tuck a mag aside just in case.”

  “Just in case?” Teagan said. “Just in fucking case? You got what, a full mag? That’s fifteen fucking bullets we could have used to kill the pinkies. We could have set a trap for them, we could have lured them in and ended all of this in a matter of fucking minutes. We’ve spent two fucking years being hunted by those pink bastards when you had a full fucking mag we could have used against them. Instead you’re using it to kill innocent civilians. What the fuck, Patrick? You’ve lost your fucking mind.”

  Before Patrick could reply, Marissa staggered to her feet and ran toward him. “You asshole! I’ll kill you! I’ll fucking -”

  There was another sharp retort of gunfire and Marissa made a startled cry and stumbled to a stop. She stared at Patrick before crumpling to the ground, blood blooming on the front of her shirt.

  Patrick lowered the gun as the others stared wide-eyed at him. Talla tore free of his grip and joined Brody who put his arm around her. Doc knelt next to Marissa. She was gasping harshly and she clutched at his hand with panicky tightness before dragging in one final breath. He felt for her pulse before shaking his head.

  They stared silently at Patrick who shrugged. “What?”

  “What?” Davis said. “Stop killing people, you fucking psycho.”

  Patrick pointed the gun at him. “You keep your fucking mouth shut, Davis.” He glanced up at the tree where Duncan was watching him. “Get your ass down here, Duncan. Leave your sword up there.”

  He waited until Duncan had joined them before smiling at Teagan. “Tell me where the blue asshole and that little bitch are, Teag.”

  “Patrick, put the gun down. You’re sick and you need help. We can help you, okay?” Teagan took a step toward him, stopping when Patrick pointed the gun at him.

  “Shut up, and just tell me where they are.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  Patrick swung the gun toward Davis. “I’ll kill him.”

  Davis curled his lip at him as Teagan shook his head. “No, you won’t, Patrick. Killing civilians is one thing, but you won’t kill one of your team.”

  “The mission comes first, then the team,” Patrick said. “Tell me, Teagan.”

  “No. Taking over the locals’ home is not the mission. You don’t -”

  “This is on you, Teag, not me,” Patrick sighed before shooting Davis in the head.

  His body hit the ground with a soft thump and there was a moment of shocked silence before Wallace, cursing non-stop, ran to Davis’ body. He knelt beside him as Duncan and Doc joined him.

  “You cocksucking motherfucker!” Wallace snarled as he stood. “I am going to fucking kill you.”

  He started toward Patrick, howling angrily when Duncan and Doc grabbed him and held him back. “Let me go, you assholes!” He shouted.

  Patrick strode across the sand and pointed the gun at Wallace’s temple. Wallace stilled, and Patrick grinned at Teagan. “Tell me or Wallace is dead.”

  “Don’t you fucking tell him, Teag,” Wallace growled.

  “Do you want more blood on your hands, Teagan?” Patrick said. “Tell me or I blow Wallace’s brains out.”

  “Go ahead and pull the trigger, you festering dick drip,” Wallace sneered. “I’m fucking tired of sweating my nutsack off on this goddamn rock anyway. Keep your mouth shut, Teag.”

  “You got until the count of five.” Patrick smiled at Teagan. “One…two…three…four...fi -”

  “Wait! Just fucking wait a minute,” Teagan said. “I’ll tell you.”

  “Don’t,” Wallace said. “Keep your mouth -”

  Teagan winced when Patrick slammed the butt of his gun across Wallace’s face. He dropped to the ground, blood flying from his mouth, as Patrick stepped back and aimed the gun at his head. “Start talking, Teag.”

  “They have a cave, not far from the waterfall.”

  “Good,” Patrick said. “Was that so hard? Now you’re gonna tell me exactly where this cave is, and the redheaded faggot and I are going to take a little walk while the rest of you stay here. If you’re fucking lying to me, Teag, I’ll make you watch as I cut out Wallace’s tongue. You get it?”

  “I’m not lying.”

  “Good. Talla, get the rope from the supply hut.”

  Talla shook her head and clung to Brody’s arm. Patrick rolled his eyes and pointed the gun at her. “Go, Talla. I don’t want to hurt you, so don’t make me.”

  Tears running down her cheeks, she backed toward the hut.

  * * *

  Yawning hugely, Rose sat up in the bed and pushed her hair back from her face. “Vida? You here?”

  There was no answer and she collapsed on her back and stared at the ceiling of the cave. Her growling stomach made her think it was close to supper. Before Vida had taken her to bed, his skin was getting noticeably dry. She had drifted off after sex, no doubt he had gone to the waterfall for both a swim and to rehydrate.

  For the last week, they’d gone to the waterfal
l only during times they were certain that the others wouldn’t be there. Even at that, Vida would often boost her up into a tree and tell her to wait while he went ahead and checked the waterfall for anything dangerous. It made her sad that she had to consider the SEALs dangerous now, but they didn’t have much choice. She stretched gingerly. Her thighs were aching a little and she moved them carefully.

  Not just your thighs.

  She blushed. No, not just her thighs. Her pussy ached too. She and Vida had had more sex in the last week then she thought was possible. Not that she was complaining. Despite her soreness, she wanted Vida with a deep-seated lust that was almost embarrassing. She’d never had such satisfying sex in her entire life, and she couldn’t get enough of the things Vida did to her.

  Yeah, well, maybe you should consider calling an end to the non-stop sex and start learning those survival skills you talked about. You think I don’t know what you’re doing? Do you honestly believe that if you give Vida lots of sex, you’ll change his mind about staying here with you? He had loads of sex on that last world and he didn’t stay. You’re getting better in bed, thanks to him, but you’re not going to convince him to stay with sex. He’s leaving as soon as the next orb arrives.

  She curled on her side and stared at the flickering candlelight. Her inner voice was right, but the temptation to just ignore it and keep pretending that Vida would always be here with her, was incredibly strong. It wasn’t just because of the sex either. She had a very bad feeling she was starting to care about Vida for more reasons than just a supernatural ability to make her come repeatedly.

  Starting to? Oh, honey, that train left the station days ago. You’re in love with the guy.

  She slid out of bed, this time definitely ignoring her inner voice. She wasn’t in love with Vida. She hadn’t known him for long enough to be in love with him. A person didn’t just fall in love with someone that quickly and if they did – there was something wrong with them and they needed psychological help.

  Then get your ass to the nuthouse ASAP, because you’re crazier than a fucking bedbug, sweetheart. You love Vida and the thought of never seeing him again makes you sick to your stomach.

  Yeah, it did. She grabbed the robe that was on the end of the bed and threw it on before marching toward the bathing chamber. Vida was leaving. She needed to get that through her thick skull. She could have sex with him eight times a day and it wouldn’t be enough.

  Vida was leaving.

  * * *

  Rose returned to the main cave from the bathing chamber, towel-drying her hair as she crossed toward the dresser. She and Vida had done laundry yesterday and while Freida’s clothes were a bit big for her, it was better than having nothing but one shirt and one pair of pants to wear for the rest of her –

  “Hello, Rose.”

  Her blood turned cold and she dropped the towel, clutching her robe closed as she stared at Patrick. He was standing next to the couch, holding a gun to Brody’s head and smiling at her. “Miss me?”

  “How did you find this place?”

  He grinned at her. “Your friends betrayed you.”

  “No, they didn’t,” Brody said. “They didn’t, Rose.”

  “Shut up, faggot,” Patrick said. “Where’s the blue dickhead?”

  “He’s gone,” Rose said. “He won’t be back until later tonight.”

  “I don’t believe you, but unless he comes back in the next five minutes, it doesn’t really matter. Let’s go, sweetheart.”

  “Where?”

  “Back to the camp of course.”

  “I’m not going with you.”

  He pushed the gun against Brody’s temple and Brody made a low moan of fear. “I’ll kill him if you don’t.”

  “You don’t have any bullets in that gun.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong, Rosie-girl.”

  “I don’t believe you,” she said.

  “Maybe you should ask your douchebag ex-fiance and his whore if there are any bullets in this gun. Oh wait, you can’t. Because I fucking shot them and they’re dead.”

  “W-what?” Rose’s mouth dropped open. “Brody, they’re dead?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. He killed Davis as well. He’s got bullets, Rosie.”

  “I sure do,” Patrick said with a small grin. “You’ve got two minutes to get dressed or Doc’s new boyfriend’s brains will be splattered across your cozy little love nest.”

  * * *

  “What exactly is your plan, Patrick?” Rose asked. She held Brody’s hand in a tight grip and glanced behind her at the Navy SEAL. “I tried to convince the locals to let all of us live with them. They won’t and that’s your fault.”

  Patrick shrugged. “That’s where your blue boyfriend comes in. Once he realizes that I’ll kill you if he doesn’t help me, he’ll be more than willing to help me take their village.”

  “There’s too many of them. Even with Vida’s help, you won’t take their village,” Rose said.

  “We’ll see.”

  She chewed on her bottom lip. “Vida doesn’t care about me the way you think he does. He won’t help you even if you use me as a bargaining chip.”

  Patrick snorted, and she glared at him. “It’s true. He’s planning on leaving the island the next time an orb shows up. I’m not invited to go with him. The only thing he wants me for is sex.”

  “You’d better hope not,” Patrick said, “or you’re useless to me, sweetheart. And I’ve got a new policy on what I do with useless people. Just ask Solomon and Marissa.”

  He laughed and the genuine amusement in it chilled her to the bone. She squeezed Brody’s hand and he gave her a sick look before squeezing back. “It’ll be okay, Rosie.”

  She nodded. Vida hadn’t really been teaching her survival skills yet, but he had begun to teach her how to find her way around the damn jungle. She was pretty certain they were close to the waterfall. If they could somehow get away from Patrick, they could run to the waterfall. Vida would be there.

  He’s got a gun, Rose. How are you going to get away from him?

  She had no idea, but there had to be something. Some way to –

  “What the fuck is that?” Brody said.

  He was staring to his left and when Patrick took a step closer and peered into the jungle, Brody dropped Rose’s hand. She glanced at him, her stomach dropping at the look on his face.

  She shook her head frantically, but it was too late. As Patrick made a grunt of annoyance and reached out to cuff Brody on the back of the head, the redhead turned and tackled the larger man.

  “Brody!” Rose screamed as he wrestled for the gun. Patrick headbutted him and Brody howled in pain but held grimly to the gun.

  Rose grabbed a baseball-sized rock and ran toward the wrestling, cursing men. The gun went off and something whistled by her ear, so close it made her hair move. Her eyes widened, and she turned to see the bullet embedded in the tree behind her. She kept moving forward, but before she could try and brain Patrick with the rock, the gun went off with another loud bang. Brody staggered back.

  “Rose?” She could barely hear him over the ringing in her ears. “I – my leg.”

  She stared down at his leg, the blood pouring from it made her stomach drop, and she grabbed on to him as he fell. He dragged her to the ground and she pressed her hand over the wound in his thigh.

  “Hold on, Brody. You’ll be fine. We’ll get you to Doc and you’ll be just fine.”

  “Yeah,” he muttered. “Fine.”

  “Actually,” Patrick took a couple of steps toward them and grinned. “You’re already dead, you just don’t know it yet.”

  He pointed the gun at Brody and Rose threw herself in front of him. “Patrick, don’t! Please. Just let me put on a tourniquet and get him back to Doc. Please, Patrick. He doesn’t have to die. Give me the chance to…”

  Patrick’s head cocked, and he turned around just as the brino came lumbering out of the jungle behind him.

  “Fuck!” He fired the gun
twice at the massive beast, hitting it in the chest and abdomen. The beast didn’t slow, just roared angrily and slammed into him, knocking him into a tree.

  “Brody! Get up!” Rose muttered into the redhead’s ear before standing and putting her arms around his waist. “Up. Now.”

  He groaned but climbed to his feet. She ducked under his arm and threw her arm around his waist as the brino roared again. He wasn’t paying attention to them. Instead, his beady black eyes were trained on Patrick who was staggering to his feet and wiping away the blood dripping into his eyes from the cut over his forehead.

  As the brino charged toward Patrick, Rose turned and half-dragged Brody toward the waterfalls. Groaning and panting, he hobbled and hopped along beside her as Patrick screamed in pain and the brino made a third roar. There were three more shots, each one ringing across the jungle. Rose dragged Brody to his feet when he stumbled and fell.

  They ran, wobbled, weaved their way toward the waterfall. Rose cried out when Brody fell again and shook his head when she tried to heave him to his feet.

  “No, can’t do it. Go without me, Rosie.”

  “No fucking way,” Rose puffed. She pulled off her shirt, wrapped it around Brody’s leg just above the gunshot wound, and tied it in a tight knot. The blood flowing from his leg began to slow and Rose breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Go, Rosie,” Brody groaned again.

  “No. It’s bleeding but I don’t think it hit your femoral artery which means you’re going to be just fine as soon as I get you to Doc. But we need to get to the waterfall. Vida will be there and he’ll help us. Okay?”

  “Maybe the brino killed Patrick. Think we could be that lucky?”

  “Maybe,” Rose said. “But either way, we need to get to the waterfall. C’mon, you can do it. I know you -”

  The hair on the back of her neck stood when they heard Patrick’s laughter.

  “Fuck,” Brody groaned under his breath. “That asshole’s still alive.”

  “Rooo-sieeee. Come out, come out wherever you are.”

  The high-pitched madness in Patrick’s voice sent fresh adrenaline skittering through her.