Blood Rose: In the Shadows - Book 8

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Blood Rose: In the Shadows - Book 8 Page 6

by P. T. Michelle


  Normally I’d work out my frustrations on the mat, but I left my gear at home, so when I don’t see Gil in his office, I head for the gym. It’s storming out and the scent in the room is a mixture of rain, sweat, and pine disinfectant. No one’s around, except a thin kid who looks to be about fourteen or so. He’s standing with his back to the door and shadow boxing his reflection in the window, arms flying like a hummingbird.

  It’s hard not to chuckle at all the energy he’s exerting. But when he turns slightly and the look on his face registers, my amusement quickly dies. Sweat shines against his dark temples, eyes full of intense fire, mouth pressed in a thin line, and forehead pinched in focused concentration; this kid’s fighting for his life.

  “Is Gil here?”

  He whips around, his brown gaze slitting in suspicion. “Who’s asking?

  “I’m Calder.” I unbutton my jacket to look more relaxed so he doesn’t feel threatened and lift my chin toward his gloved hands raised in front of his face. “I saw a lot of hooks, crosses and uppercuts. Work more on your jabs.”

  “Jabs are for weaklings.” He snorts as he looks my custom suit up and down. “Why should I listen to you?”

  He’s got a lot of attitude, his gaze instantly distrusting. Probably why he’s here. It boils my blood to see someone so young feel that threatened. He’s the youngest person I’ve seen at Gil’s gym by far. I step into the room, but stop when he takes a step back. “Jabs exert the least amount of energy since the fist you’re using is the closest to your opponent. They also help you gauge his skills while setting you up for the big punches.”

  He tilts his head, doubt in his eyes. “You do MMA?”

  “I dabble.” Sliding my hands into my pockets, I nod toward his feet. “Keep your lead foot and toes facing the same direction as your chest and hips. Unless you’re blocking knees, then turn your foot forward so you can check.”

  The boy sets up like I suggested, then does a couple of punches and a knee check move. “Like this?”

  I nod. “Be sure to switch up your angles. Don’t always come in from the same direction.” He complies and I smile. “Yeah, pivot like that, but try not to slide your feet when you move around. Stay on your toes. You’ll move much faster that way.”

  “He’s got some good pointers, David.” Gil’s gruff voice rumbles, his cane thumping the mat’s edge as he moves into place beside me.

  “I guess.” David shrugs off his interest and removes his gloves. “He’s no Steel. That guy’s legendary.” Hope fills his gaze as he looks at Gil. “Do you think I’ll ever get to meet him?”

  “Maybe he’ll come by one day.” Gil’s gaze cuts to me for a second before he looks at the kid once more. “Don’t you have an exam tomorrow? I’ve got some paperwork to take care of, then I’ll be up.”

  David looks at me and smiles slightly. “Um, thanks for the tips. Maybe I’ll see you around?”

  I nod. “Nice to meet you, David. Next time I’ll bring my gloves.”

  His eyes light up and his smile widens. “To spar?” When Gil clears his throat, David looks sheepish. “Okay, okay…I’m going.”

  “It appears things have changed a lot around here while I’ve been buried in house repairs,” I say as I follow Gil to his office.

  “You could say that, Steel.”

  When I smirk at him, he grunts and closes his office door, then moves behind his desk.

  While I take the seat in front of his desk, he says, “He kept coming by the gym. Hanging around at all hours. When I figured out he was homeless, I offered him a place to stay, but only if he worked for me and spent some of his pay enrolling in community college.”

  I blink. “He can’t be more than fifteen.”

  Gil shakes his head. “He’s actually eighteen. Just severely malnourished with a horrible background to go with it. The kid is crazy smart but hasn’t realized that yet about himself.”

  I set my jaw. “Then I’m glad he found you. No one will whip him into shape faster.”

  Gil grunts his agreement, then quickly swipes his cane across the desk and points it directly at me. “What’s going on? I didn’t expect to see you back here for at least another week. Did they finish your renovations early?”

  “Believe it or not, that’s finally almost done.” The last thing I want to do is talk about how much Ben pisses me off. And I sure as hell don’t want to discuss Phillip at all. Rubbing the back of my neck, I grumble. “I’ve just got other frustrations going on.”

  Gil’s weathered face wrinkles with a doubtful squint as he lowers his cane to the desk. “Remodeling can be a pain in the ass for sure, but I’ve never known you to get bent out of shape over stuff like that. And I know this can’t have anything to do with that angel you’re marrying. So what’s bugging you?”

  My mouth tightens. “Guess I’ve got an angel problem then.”

  “More likely it’s all in your head,” Gil says, snorting.

  I let my frustration over the apartment and Cass not setting a date pour out, but the last thing I expected is to watch Gil’s face shift from a frown to a scowl as I talk.

  “Why did you tell her that she doesn’t need to work?”

  Why is he asking me that while I’m trying to figure out how to get her to set a fucking date? “Because it’s the truth. This is about Cass not committing, Gil. It’s about me working my ass off to get our house ready in record time for us and not only is she off looking at another property, but she seems no closer to setting a date than the day I put a ring on her finger.”

  Gil clears his throat and lifts his hat from his desk, slipping it on his salt and pepper curly hair. “By commenting about her not having to work, you pretty much dismissed her entire career and the effort she’s been going through to salvage it.”

  “What?” I sit up straight in the chair. “That’s not what I said.”

  “I guarantee that’s how it came across…intentional or not. Working is her choice, and you should not only support her decision, but encourage it.” Leaning back in his chair, Gil crosses his arms. “And then you went for a walk because she wouldn’t commit to a date at your insistence?”

  It sounds kind of bad when he says it like that. “I’m just frustrated, Gil. She’s stalling. I have no idea why, but she is. I don’t know how to convince her to just set a date. It shouldn’t be this hard.” Raking my hand through my hair, I shake my head.

  “So what if she is stalling? What exactly are you afraid of?”

  That my asshole half-brother might be right and she’s having second thoughts. I raise my eyebrow. “Why do you ask that?”

  “Even good marriages have their ups and downs,” Gil says, rubbing the silver scruff on his jaw. “But if you really love this woman, then give her the space she needs. There’s a reason she hasn’t set a date. When she’s ready, she’ll tell you why.”

  “I’m not good at waiting.” I shake my head, frowning. “As far as I’m concerned, I’ve been a fucking saint up until now.”

  “Well, tough nuts.” He holds his hand up when I start to argue. “I might not have been married myself, but my parents had the best marriage until the day they died. Want to know what their secret was?” He waits until I raise my eyebrows. “They never, ever went to bed mad. They’d stay up until the wee hours and hash it out if they needed to.” Pointing at me, he grunts. “That is how you keep your relationship going. You work on it. Every. Single. Day. As for the house stuff, it doesn’t matter whether it’s a tiny city apartment or a ten-thousand square foot estate, both are just walls and a roof over your head. A home is where the person who makes you happy resides. That’s what you protect at all costs.”

  As annoyed as I am that he thinks I’m completely wrong, I can’t help but smirk at the irony. “I can’t believe a confirmed bachelor just gave me marriage advice.”

  He picks up his cane and stands. “Just doing my job of saving you from yourself. My knowledge comes from my own family dynamic and a few decades of watching friends go th
rough divorces. Now get your ass out of here and go apologize to your fiancée.”

  Chapter Six

  Cass

  My eyes fly open as a loud boom of thunder shakes the house. Harsh wind howls, lashing rain against the windows and hammering in heavy sheets down on the rooftop.

  Sitting up on the couch, I blink in the pitch dark to clear my sleep-grogged head. What time is it? I grope blindly for my phone on the coffee table, but when I don’t find it, I glance in the kitchen at the oven clock. Completely black.

  Great, the storm must’ve knocked the power out. It could be seven or eleven. I stand and turn, trying to figure out why something feels off. As the rain and thunder continue their loud din, it hits me what’s bothering me. There’s no lightning. Not a single flash has happened since I woke up. Which right now would help me see more than a foot in front of me.

  I hold my hands out and blindly follow the loud rain sounds. As soon as I turn the corner, I see the issue and rush forward. Rain is pouring into our open sliding glass patio door, drenching the carpet. The deluge soaks my clothes as I tug on the heavy door to close it. The moment it’s fully shut, lightning briefly flashes and I jump at my own reflection in the glass.

  Heart racing, I chuckle that I’d just scared the crap out of myself.

  But the instant it hits me that my hair looks far wetter than it feels, the door starts to tug against my hold. I squeeze the handle as Celeste calls through the glass, “Open the door, Cass.”

  I don’t know why, but I panic and quickly latch the door.

  “I won’t let you ignore me,” she says, scowling.

  Why is she here? I take a step back and call for Calder. Where is he?

  Celeste raises her arm, her face livid. “Let me in!”

  When I shake my head, she brings the backside of her fist down on the glass with shocking power. I scream for Calder as the booming hit cracks the glass. She growls her anger and hits it again, the force reverberating through me in deafening concussive waves that make me so dizzy, I’m unsteady on my feet. As my vision fades, I feel myself falling.

  * * *

  I bolt upright on the couch, Calder’s name still on my lips. Thunder booms and lightning flashes, briefly illuminating the dark room just as Calder rounds the coffee table. Crouching next to me, he brushes my hair away from my face, his hand warm against my clammy skin. “Are you okay? I just walked in and freaked when you called out my name. You sounded terrified.”

  “I must’ve fallen asleep.” I lean into his comforting touch as I pick up my phone from the coffee table. “What time is it?” I mumble so he thinks that’s why I’m checking the screen. It was a dream. Celeste didn’t send any more texts. I exhale in relief.

  Thunder vibrates the windows and Calder shakes his head as he slides his hand into my hair. “I can’t believe you slept through all this racket.” Pulling me forward, he kisses my forehead, then quickly looks at me with a worried gaze. “You’re trembling.”

  “It was just a nightmare.” Taking a steadying breath, I offer a wry smile. “I was dreaming about Celeste.”

  He instantly scowls. “Now I see why you called it a nightmare. Wonder why she’s starring in your dreams after all this time?”

  I sigh. Now that I’ve cut off all communication, I might as well tell him about her text. “She tried to contact me today.”

  His expression hardens and his whole body tenses. “You didn’t respond, did you?”

  “Only to tell her not to contact me anymore.” I don’t need a lecture. It’s over and done.

  “Good,” he says, visibly relaxing. “The last thing we need is Celeste returning from the dead. All hell would break loose.”

  “I completely agree.” Wrapping my hand around his wrist, I adopt a calm expression and search his gaze in the darkness. “Are you okay?”

  “I’ve just been spending too much time in my own head.” He quickly scoops me up in his arms, his hold on me especially tight.

  “What are you doing?” My heart races as I grip his broad shoulders. Keep holding me tight, Calder. Promise to never let me go, no matter what.

  “Apologizing,” Calder murmurs as he nuzzles my neck while carrying me upstairs. The thunder rumbles in a low bass and the rain rushes against the windows as we enter our darkened room.

  I’m surprised that he doesn’t lower me to my feet but instead sets me on the edge of our chaise lounge near the window. Lightning flashes as he towers over me and tilts my chin up. The churning of the storm just outside the window amplifies his heated gaze, spiking my adrenaline. As he begins to tug off his tie, I keep my gaze locked with his and wait for him to speak, but he doesn’t say a word. He loops his tie around the scrollwork at the top of the lounge’s back, then shrugs out of his jacket.

  I’m so mesmerized as he unbuttons his dress shirt, that my gaze devours every inch of his gorgeous body as he peels the shirt away. From his six-pack abs to his broad chest, I’ll never get tired of burying my face against his warm, muscular frame. For now I don’t mind the silence between us. He’s here. That’s all that matters. We’ll work through this.

  When he lowers himself to his knees in front of me, my hand instantly traces the inked raven feathers curved around his left shoulder and down his bicep. “I love this raven wing so much,” I say in a quiet voice. “I think it’s wonderful that others will be able to appreciate this masterpiece in Alana’s book, and that you’re a man of your word.”

  Capturing my hand, he presses his lips to my palm in a slow tantalizing kiss. I take a shaky breath, trying not to get too emotional at how much he makes me feel with just a simple press of his lips to my skin. But he does. Every time, he melts me.

  He bites down on the fleshy part of my palm, then flicks an intense gaze my way. “I will never apologize for wanting to make you mine.”

  My chest constricts. I love him so much. “You don’t have to. I’m already yours.”

  “Not the same thing, angel.” He bites me again, then rakes his teeth across the tender part of my wrist, before softly kissing my scars hidden underneath the ink. “I want every man to know you’re taken, completely and permanently. The sooner the fucking better.”

  “I am fully and completely taken.” I cup his jaw and make him look at me. “Next week, okay?”

  I hold my breath as his gaze searches mine. I can tell he wants to question me more, but instead he nods and slides his hands up my thighs, pushing my dress out of the way. “You might want to hold on for this.”

  Before I can say a word, he grips my hips and turns me so fast, I fall against the back of the chaise.

  My breath escapes in a gasp when he pushes my legs to the floor on either side of the chair, his voice gruff with want. “Keep them here for now.”

  Lightning flashes and thunder shakes the house as the summer storm announces its fury. It might be raging outside, but nothing compares to the tempest building in my body as Calder slides his thumbs under the thin straps at my hips, then rips my flimsy underwear completely off me.

  When he yanks me forward, I yelp in surprise at his intensity and grope for something to hold on to as he looks at me like a starving man before he lowers his head to my sex. My hands connect with the silk tie he’d hooked to the back of the chaise and I grab onto it. Sliding my hand through the loop, I wrap the soft material around my wrist just as his mouth fully connects with my sensitive skin. The second his lips find my clit, I arch into his hot mouth and moan my pleasure, ready to give him every part of me.

  I pant and grind against him, enjoying the sheer bliss he knows exactly how to provoke. If he insisted on setting a date while he was doing this, I would never be able to stand my ground.

  Calder’s grip tightens on my thigh and his fingers slide deep inside me as his mouth moves over me, encouraging my rapt participation. My heart races and twists with all the emotions rolling through me. This man is my tether. He makes me feel whole, even when I know I’m not.

  Worry about my fertility jacks my
emotional response and I hook my legs around his shoulders, desperately pulling him as close as he can get. I love him so much. How fair would it be for me to bind him to me when he might not be able to have the family he needs to help him forget about the past? The question echoes in my head over and over as my body spirals into a heart-shattering climax.

  Once I scream through my orgasm, Calder doesn’t stop. He keeps going until I’ve climaxed again. This time even harder. My legs are jelly and my heart is racing to keep up with the shudders of pleasure shooting through me.

  “Enough, Calder,” I finally beg him, truly afraid my body won’t be able to handle another orgasm.

  With a grunt of masculine pride, he moves up my body and lays his full weight on me. His erection pressing against me through his clothes, he clasps my face and rumbles against my mouth, “Damn, you fucking rule my world, angel.”

  “Not yet,” I say with a breathless laugh, my heart still racing as I release the tie to wrap my arms around his thick shoulders. When his lips press hard against mine, I relish in the rough thrust of his tongue. Swirling mine around his, I roll my hips and make as much contact with his erection as possible. “But I promise it’ll be memorable once you remove the rest of your clothes.”

  “Right now…” He pulls back, then stands and scoops me into his arms. Pressing his lips to my neck, he rumbles in a restrained tone, “We’re going to talk.”

  I gulp my worry as he sets me on the bed and pulls on the string to unravel the bow at my shoulder. As the material falls and the upper part of my breast is revealed, I say, “Talking goes both ways.”

  Calder tugs on the other bow until the top half of my dress completely falls away. I hold my breath as he traces his fingers along the tip of my breast. “I said we’re talking, so yes, that includes two people.”

 

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