Blood Rose

by P. T. Michelle

  Beth quickly turns her hand over in mine and folds them together. Suddenly releasing me, she shakes her head, her gaze misty. “I’m sorry, Cass. For a second I felt like I was talking to Celeste…well, the way she was when we were younger.”

  I recapture her hand and turn ours over so my raven tattoo is face up. I’m proud that as stressed as I am, my wrist hasn’t itched. Knowing the symbol I had tattooed over my old cutting scars and the word “Never” along my forearm to remind me of my promise to my sister to “never give up on myself” helps, and so does Beth’s sweet smile. “You reminded me of my sister just now too.”

  A couple tears trail her cheeks. “I think they’d be happy we have each other, don’t you?”

  Just as I nod, my phone buzzes with a new text.

  You know who this is.

  Chapter Two

  Calder

  “I’m done,” I grunt, sliding my arm back into my light-blue dress shirt. I’m annoyed as hell that Bash is making me do this, but the fact Cass vaguely mentioned some business thing she has today, which I had no clue about, only to brush off my suggestion of eloping after she’d put off setting a wedding date for months…Well, I’m more than on edge.

  Ben scans the tablet in his hand and taps on the screen, his brown eyes snapping back to me. “Not so fast. You need to fill out the entire form, including the medical history section. No food or coffee yet, right? I’ll also need to get a vial of your blood.”

  I tug the shirt back over my shoulder and glance down past the Celtic Solus tattoo on my torso to the scar on my hip just above my dress pants’ waistline. “Since you patched me up after your psychotic father shot me, you’re familiar with this wound, Hemming. There’s nothing else to discuss. I’m healthy. End of story.”

  He stiffens at my dig. I stare at him, daring him to voice the thought that’s stamped on his face: He’s your father too. “That’s Doctor Hemming. A complete medical history is important, Calder.”

  “You’re not my doctor.” We glare at each other, neither willing to back off. He has some underlying agenda and I’m not playing into his bullshit.

  “I am today.”

  “I don’t have to disclose anything to you,” I say, glancing down to focus on buttoning my shirt cuff so I don’t punch that smug smirk. I ignore the twinge in my shoulder where a shrapnel fragment still annoys me every so often. My fingers fumble as the pain flares, so I flex my fingers before finally pushing the button through.

  “How’s your grip?” Ben asks.

  His tone might be matter-of-fact, but I suddenly curl my hand into a threatening fist and narrow my gaze. “You tell me.”

  He snorts. “If you want to work in the field with the rest of the BLACK Security team, your full medical history, including parents, siblings, etc…it all needs to be documented, Calder.”

  “Fuck this.” Walking out of his office, I head straight for my own and slam the door behind me.

  A few minutes later, my door opens. I don’t look up from the new client field report I’m reading. When someone takes a seat in front of my desk, I snap, “The door is closed for a reason.”

  “I see your morning is going well.”

  I meet my cousin’s steady blue gaze as he sets a mug of coffee on my desk before taking a sip from his own mug. Not once—since I’ve come to work here—has he brought me coffee. I don’t trust it.

  “Either he goes or I do,” I say. When he chuckles into his mug, my gaze narrows. “You don’t think I’m serious?”

  Dark eyebrows elevate. “Oh, I think you’re serious as hell, but before you go off half-cocked, I’d like to hear your reasoning. Sure would hate to lose a good partner.”

  “You’re choosing him over me?” I scowl. “What the fuck, Bash?”

  “You’re the one taking sides, Cald. BLACK Security is a team. And a team only works well together if there’s trust. What has your brother done now?”

  “Stop calling him my goddamn brother.” I lift the mug so I don’t pound a hole in my desk. When Bash doesn’t reply, but instead takes his time with another sip of coffee, I do the same, waiting him out.

  “It’s a simple statement of fact.”

  “You grew up with me. That’s a brother.”

  His blue gaze suddenly sharpens. “Then start talking.”

  “He insisted on my full medical history,” I grit out.

  “We all provided it.” He shrugs. “Fill out the form, Calder. It’s no big deal.”

  My fingers tighten on the mug. “You’re missing the point. I have no fucking clue what my real medical history is, certainly not on my father’s side.”

  “I see.” Bash settles deeper in the chair. “Ben wouldn’t be doing his job thoroughly if he didn’t ask you to fill out that information.”

  I shoot him an “are you fucking kidding me?” look. “He knows I can’t fill out that form without asking him for our father’s medical history,” I say, barely keeping my tone civil. “It’s like he’s rubbing the fact that sick fuck forced himself on my mother in my face. As far as I’m concerned, I buried my only father.”

  Bash rests his mug on my desk, then sets his elbows on his knees, leaning forward. “I know that this is like scraping open a raw wound for you, but documenting your medical history doesn’t erase your personal one, Calder. Jack will always be your father. Those memories will never go away, but the fact remains that Phillip Hemming unfortunately was the sperm donor. I’m just glad he’s already in jail so you can’t commit murder. Let Ben be a great source of information. That way you won’t have to ask the man directly.”

  “Why the hell would I ever want to know anything about him?”

  Bash shakes his head. “I hope you’ll never need to, but information is important. Knowing if something might be coming down the line for you, health-wise, is just strategically smart, Cald.”

  Picking up his mug, my cousin stands and turns for the door. With his hand on the knob, he looks back at me. “While you’re sitting here stewing in anger and resentment, consider the fact that the only time I’ve seen you speak at any length to Ben is when he was annoying the piss out of you. You could be right that he had an ulterior motive with this medical history bit, but I think you’re way off about the reason behind it.

  “That guy’s father and brother are rotting in prison for their part in the shit that went down with the Carver family. Now that Ben has cut himself off from half his family, he’s probably trying to make sense of his life too. Dial back the asshole, Cald. Be the guy who spun out a tire wheel. Like you, Ben didn’t ask for any of this.”

  As Bash starts to walk out, I grumble, “Minus the asshole comment, the rest of that sounded suspiciously like Talia.”

  He doesn’t even look back as he snaps, “Orphan asshole.”

  I stare at the open doorway and despite my mood, I bark out a laugh. I haven’t thought about that moment in years…

  Holding my motorcycle helmet under my arm, I called out as I started toward the garage. “Be back at dinnertime.”

  “Hold up,” Dad said from the living room where he and Sebastian were watching a golf tournament. Well, they were both watching, but Sebastian was listening to music on his headphones. I sighed my annoyance and waited for him to come into the foyer where he spoke in a low tone. “You should take Bash with you.”

  This had been going on since the beginning of the summer four weeks ago. I set my jaw. “Stop insisting I take him with me whenever I make plans with friends, Dad. He has his own friends. If he’s bored, he can go running, play basketball, or something.”

  “He left his friends behind when he moved. He’ll be starting over at your school in less than a month. And, yes, he’ll probably play a sport and make friends that way, but until then, help him transition. He just lost his mom, Calder. Things haven’t gone well at his dad and Isabel’s house. He’s family. Blakes support each other.”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to correct him that Sebastian was technically half-family, but th
at would’ve earned me a hard stare and probably a week of grounding. Why did my father seem to care so much about Sebastian’s feelings? What about my feelings? I didn’t get any say-so in the guy coming to live with us. It didn’t help that Sebastian and my father seemed to get along so well, while lately it felt like Dad and I were always butting heads. This was bullshit. “I only have one bike and so does Liam, so—”

  “Then let Sebastian ride with you.”

  With my father’s annoying insistence that I include my cousin in my social life, all he’d managed to do was make Sebastian a thorn in my side. Ever since Uncle Adam came to our house with this kid sporting one brown eye and one blue, my life had sucked. I remembered how pissed Sebastian looked while his father spoke to mine in his office. Then my uncle walked out of my dad’s office, retrieved a couple suitcases from his car, and his illegitimate son had lived with us since.

  The last thing I wanted to do during my senior year of high school was babysit my “new” cousin. Yet so far, that’s how my summer was shaping up. Needless to say, I hadn’t made an effort to get to know Sebastian. As far as I was concerned, he was just a constant pain in my ass.

  “Are you going to build those planter boxes, Jack?” Sebastian called from the couch as he tugged his headphones down to his neck. “I’ll be happy to help.”

  “Are you sure?” My dad was already rubbing his hands together, his gaze lighting with excitement.

  Sebastian lifted the remote and turned the TV off. “If we start now, we can probably get them built and set up today.”

  “At least then we can save some plants from those damn rabbits. Just let me change clothes.” Turning to me, Dad said, “Be home before six, Calder.”

  My gaze snapped between the two of them. Before I moved up to high school and started driving, I would’ve loved to work on a project like that with my dad. I should be relieved that he wasn’t insisting I stay and help. Instead, I was slightly irritated. I started to say something, but the house phone rang. I knew it was Liam calling to tell me to hurry up and meet him at the gate at the entrance to our property.

  “Okay, then. I guess I’ll see you guys later.”

  “See ya,” my father called out absently as he jogged up the stairs to change clothes.

  I ended up cutting my day short with Liam. Partially because I’d grown tired of just riding around, but also because I was honest enough with myself to admit I was jealous of Sebastian spending so much time with my father. As far as I knew, he’d never had a cross word with my dad. And to hear my father talk about him…well, Sebastian was a freaking angel.

  My cousin’s t-shirt was coated with sweat and dirt stains as he pushes a wheelbarrow full of dirt from the side of the house to the front. Saw dust and dirt clods coat the front drive where they’d built the planters and had already started to fill them. Once they were fully done, they’d be set next to the columns on either side of the front porch. “Where’s Dad?” I asked after I cut the engine and lifted my helmet off.

  Sebastian pulled off his work gloves and glanced up at the darkening sky. “He went to the store for some plants and topsoil.”

  When I didn’t say anything else, he turned back around and slid the gloves back on.

  The planters’ nice clean lines looked great, which only annoyed me more, so I narrowed my gaze on his broad back and folded my arm around the helmet. “You know he’s not your father, right? He will never be your dad.”

  “I have a father,” Sebastian said, his dual-colored gaze swinging sharply my way. “As shitty as he is…he’s still mine. I’m not trying to steal yours, Calder.”

  I stiffened and glanced away to secure my helmet to the back of my bike. “I didn’t say you were trying to steal—”

  “From the moment I got here, you’ve been an asshole.”

  “Yeah, well…” I scowled and settled back into my seat. Arms folded and feet firmly planted to keep the bike balanced, I figured I should just be honest with the guy. “I don’t like being forced to—”

  “Look, I’ve got one more year and I’m out of here. You’ll never have to see me again. I’m not trying to be anyone’s son. I’m just glad to be living in a place where people aren’t constantly stabbing me in the back and judging me for having the fucking nerve to be born.” He paused and narrowed his gaze, his jaw hardening. “Unless that’s about to change.”

  I started to speak when a car comes up the long drive, drawing our attention. Gavin pulled in front of us in his silver Beamer, then he and Damien stepped out and leaned on each of their doors.

  “Well, well…look at that, Damien,” Gavin drawled, glancing at his younger brother across the top of his car. “I’m glad to see Uncle Jack has the orphan doing work that fits his background.”

  Damien laughs. “I wonder if he serves them food too? You know, following in the footsteps of his mother?”

  At the same time Sebastian fists the shovel handle in a death grip, my whole body tenses. Orphan? Just because Gavin and Damien hate that their dad fathered another son not long before he married their mom doesn’t give them a right to be total asswipes.

  “Stop being dicks and grow the fuck up,” I snapped. Quickly starting my engine, I spun my bike around to put it between the guys and said to Sebastian in an even tone, “It’s going to rain soon. I’ll put this away and help.”

  When Sebastian’s gaze met mine, I flashed an evil grin and squealed my tire, sending dirt clods and saw dust scattering like buckshot all over my cousin’s car as I took off for the garage on the side of the house.

  Parking quickly, I hopped off my bike and just as I walked out of the garage, I froze at the sight of Sebastian aiming a handgun toward my cousins’ car while they drove away toward our gated entrance.

  As I bolted toward him, he popped off a few rounds, hitting both back tires, then set the gun down and started shoveling as if nothing had happened.

  It was my dad’s pellet gun. Snorting my relief, I slowed my frantic pace and reached him as he dumped a new shovel of dirt into the planter.

  “Not such an angel after all, are you?” I say, glancing at the gun tucked in its holder on the ground near the wheelbarrow.

  “Never claimed to be.” Sebastian didn’t say anything else as he held out the other shovel.

  “We orphans need to stick together. Welcome to the Blake family,” I said, grinning as I took it from him. “Want to place a bet how long their tires will take to deflate?”

  As the memory fades, I rub my jaw and grunt at the irony of that day, considering that I never had any Blake blood running through my veins. Could Bash be right? Am I blowing this way out of proportion and Ben wasn’t rubbing my bastard existence in my face, but instead trying to get my attention?

  I pick up my mug and lean back in my chair, feeling like an ass for not giving that option a thought. Rolling my head from one shoulder to the other, I start to reach for the phone to call Ben, when he walks into my office, tablet in hand.

  “Are you done pitching a fit? ‘Cause we really need to get back to business. I have a schedule to keep,” he says in a matter-of-fact tone. Without a beat, he sits down and glances at the screen, scrolling through it. “Let’s start from the top. I noticed that you didn’t check your marital status. Has Cass finally set a date?” Glancing up, his lips quirk. “She’s not getting cold feet, is she?”

  “Out!” I set my mug down so hard the coffee sloshes over my hand. I’m so pissed, the heat doesn’t even register.

  “Whoa, calm down. I was just joking, bro.” Shaking his head, Ben looks back at the screen. “Okay, back to this… you also didn’t list your blood type. If you don’t remember, it should be on your dog tags. If you end up marrying Cass, and she’s negative and you’re positi—”

  If I marry her? I haven’t forgotten the asshole telling me he’d fight me for Cass if I didn’t do right by her last year. And now he’s trying to cast doubt about our future together? “Get. The. Fuck, Out,” I growl.

  Ben’s brow
s pull together, his gaze snapping to mine. “Are you serious?”

  When he doesn’t move, I quickly stand and lean across the desk, my stance full of lethal intent. “You won’t like my idea of putting you out myself.”

  Chapter Three

  Cass

  “I need you to drill deeper into his financials, Elijah.” Talia opens a folder on her desk while holding her phone to her ear. She nods at me as I walk into her office, but keeps talking. “Right. Pull everything you can find so I can go over them. Look for offshore accounts, shell companies, also check recent real estate sales. I’ve just finished compiling the evidence to prove his wife’s death wasn’t an accident, but the case will be stronger for the police if we can find the person responsible. The husband’s too smart to have done it himself. He paid for that hit. We need to see that money going out and trace it. I want Celia to be able to bury her mother in peace.”

  While Talia gives Elijah more detailed instructions, I watch her face bloom with desire for justice. I’ve seen her in action dozens of times across the years and it never gets old. She’s truly doing what she was born to do, which makes me smile at the memory of how Talia and I became best friends.

  I rolled my eyes at Jodi and Samantha sitting in the corner booth, soaking up the free drinks the four guys have been ordering for them the past two hours. The joke’s on the guys, because soon the girls’ boyfriends would show up, along with their fraternity brothers, and boot the guys the hell out of that booth.

  I came with the girls, but when I saw what they were up to, I moved over to the bar to order my own drink. The first time, it was an adrenaline rush watching their men get all alpha and rush in to bounce the interlopers on their asses, but then, the next time it happened, I realized it was all a well planned scam. The girls got free drinks and the boyfriends not only saved money, but it gave them an excuse to get into a brawl if the guys didn’t back off their girls. I sure as hell didn’t want to be a part of it.