by Eva Ashwood
I can’t even put a name to what I’m feeling, alternating between numb shock and some fucked up cocktail of every other negative emotion.
He’s dead.
My dad is dead.
The man who raised me, who taught me everything I know. How to be strong, how to drive, how to fight. The only family I have left, shot dead and stuffed in a fucking trunk.
By Sloan. Just like that.
The hope I had just minutes ago feels like ashes in my mouth now, snuffed out by the reality of what just happened. I fall forward onto my hands and knees, trying to suck in gasps of air, but it’s hard. My throat feels like it’s got invisible hands wrapped around it, cutting off my air supply. Tears fall from my eyes, splattering on the asphalt, and my shoulders shake with silent sobs.
I keep replaying the scene over and over again in my head.
My dad’s tired expression.
Sloan’s thoughtful, almost impassive face.
The freeze-frame image of Sloan aiming his gun and my dad standing there, helpless.
I close my eyes, trying to block it out, but it’s impossible to forget, so vivid and fresh.
I have no idea what Sloan plans to do with the body. Toss it in the river or bury it along with all the other bodies of people who ended up on the wrong side of the Black Roses? And then he’ll be heading back to the house, to what? Tell the others what he did? Pretend like it didn’t happen?
Either way, I have to be there when he gets back or he’ll know I snuck out. He’ll realize I followed him.
It’s that thought that finally gets me moving. I manage to pick myself up off the pavement on shaky legs and stumble across the street back to my bike.
It’s a good goddamn thing this part of town is so deserted, because if anyone saw me right now, they’d be worried I was deranged. That’s how I feel when I throw my leg over my bike and start moving.
It’s like I’m in a daze, confused and cold and trapped in my own head. I can barely remember the ride back to the house, autopilot taking over to hopefully help me obey traffic laws and not cause any accidents.
I feel like I’m walking in a dream when I stow my bike in the garage and sneak back in the house, finding it just as quiet as I left it.
It was only an hour or so ago when I was sneaking out, worried about what I was going to find when I followed Sloan but not expecting anything like what I actually saw.
I go to the kitchen and splash some cold water on my face, then fill a glass and chug it. The cold water almost burns going down, and it seems like another lifetime that I stood in this kitchen making out with Rory against the fridge.
Does he know? Did he know then? He seemed like he was more focused on what happened between me and Levi, but how do I know that’s the case? Maybe he was thinking about how he knew they were going to kill my dad.
Fuck. Fuck.
There’s so much I don’t know. So much I have no way of finding out unless I come out and demand answers, and after seeing what Sloan did to Dad, that seems like a really fucking bad idea.
My head starts to clear from the daze I’ve been in since I saw my dad die, but panic starts setting in right on its heels. I leave the kitchen and start heading up the stairs toward my room when it hits me.
I shouldn’t have come back.
I can’t be here.
It’s not safe.
I don’t know what Levi and Rory know. I don’t know if they’re in on it or if this is a new plan or if this has always been the plan. My dad is fucking dead, and they could kill me next. Maybe I know too much. Maybe that was why Levi didn’t have a problem telling me things this morning—because he knew I’d never be able to use the information anyway.
Unhelpfully, my brain starts supplying me with all kinds of scenarios that end with me dead and no one knowing. Maybe Scarlett would be able to figure out what happened, but what could she do about it?
She can’t go up against the Black Roses on her own. It would be suicide. And the cops would be no fucking help.
My heart is going a mile a minute, and I’m not sure what to do. I can’t stay here, but I don’t know where to go. I should have just bolted after I watched Sloan…
After he…
Fuck. God. Fuck.
I can just go. Just run. Forget having a plan, forget finding a safe place. Anywhere has to be better than this, right? I can go to Scarlett’s and hide out there, or better yet, skip town all together and not drag her any deeper into this mess with me. Maybe if I get far enough away, they won’t be able to come after me.
It’s probably wishful thinking. Everybody in this city fears the Black Roses for a reason—because people don’t cross them and live. But empty hope is all I’ve got at the moment, so I cling to it with both fucking hands.
I take the stairs back down two at a time, but before I can make it through the living room, I hear the front door open.
“Your savior is here with pizza!”
It’s Rory. The sound of his deep voice would usually calm me down, but instead, it makes my pulse kick into a wild gallop. I’m stuck in the middle of the living room looking like a deer in headlights.
“Savior my ass.” Levi comes down the stairs, rolling his eyes. His hair is damp from a post-workout shower, and he looks comfortable in sweats and a t-shirt. When he sees me standing by the couch, he grins. “There you are. I’m sure you heard because he’s a fucking loudmouth, but Rory brought pizza. We’re gonna watch a dumb movie and eat. Come on.”
He takes my hand and starts tugging me in the direction of the couch. It takes everything in me not to snatch my hand away from him, and I hate how just him touching me calms me down a little. Because I can’t trust him. I can’t trust either of them. I don’t know what they want from me. I don’t know what they know.
I feel like I’m drowning in worry and anxiety, and Levi seems totally casual and relaxed.
Rory walks into the living room, pizza boxes in hand, and he winks at me as he moves to set them on the table.
“Hey, Hurricane. Where do you fall on the pineapple on pizza debate?”
“The… what?” I stammer, blinking at him.
He can’t be talking about something as mundane as pizza toppings right now. Not when my whole world feels like it was shattered apart less than an hour ago.
“Pineapple on pizza,” he repeats, grinning. “I picked up a bacon and pineapple pizza because I know Sloan hates it. Figured it means there’ll be more for the rest of us. Unless you’re a heathen who’s against a little sweet and salty action.”
He leans closer to me, waggling his eyebrows, and I can hear the flirtatious undertone in his words. But it doesn’t make me feel better. If anything, it makes that feeling in my gut worse. If he knows what’s happening, then he’s playing a sick game.
But he’s also waiting for an answer, clearly, so I swallow hard and glance down at the boxes. “It’s fine. I don’t mind it.”
“That’s what I said,” Levi chimes in. “Would I order it myself? Probably not. But if you put it in front of me, I’ll eat it. Pizza is pizza.”
“Okay, you say that, but what if I brought home something like ham and olives? Mushroom and anchovy? Green pepper and eggplant?”
“They don’t have eggplant pizza.”
“They do in Italy.”
“Well, if we ever go to Italy, I’ll worry about it then.”
They banter back and forth the way they always do, and I just stand there until Levi gives me a look. Moving on some kind of autopilot, I go to sit next to him on the couch, my skin prickling with nerves.
My palms are sweaty, my fingers twitching to curl into fists. I can’t decide if I should try to fight my way out of here or just bolt and make a run for it. And even as my mind plays out a half dozen different scenarios, the two men keep acting so fucking relaxed and normal that it’s hard for me to focus. I feel like I’m going fucking crazy.
Rory brings plates and napkins from the kitchen and starts handing out slices. He
puts one bacon and pineapple on my plate, and one pepperoni and sausage, and I take it, staring down at the little puddles of grease in the pepperoni cups. I’m not even a little bit hungry.
In fact, I think I might throw up.
“Where’s Sloan?” Rory asks. “His car’s not here.”
As soon as the words are out of his mouth, the front door opens again, and I go rigid, my stomach dropping to the floor.
“Speak of the devil.” Rory grins, then cranes his neck to call over his shoulder. “Sloan, get in here! Pizza’s getting cold.”
“I’m coming.” The deep voice floats toward us from the front of the house, and a second later, Sloan steps into the living room.
He looks exactly the same as he did when I saw him standing across from my dad, shooting him dead. There are no lines of tension in his posture, no look of remorse on his face. He looks totally casual. Like nothing even happened.
But it did. I fucking saw it. I can’t stop seeing it in my mind’s eye.
“Where were you?” Levi asks him, biting into a slice and sucking in air when it burns his tongue.
“Went to get coffee and check out that sale on TVs,” he answers, lying through his fucking teeth. “They didn’t have that big one we were talking about getting.”
“Aw, damn.” Rory grunts, settling back on the couch. “I knew we should have jumped on it earlier.”
Sloan grabs a slice of pizza and a plate and drops down into the armchair, lifting an eyebrow at me when he catches me staring. I shift my attention quickly back to the pizza while Levi gets the movie going.
My earlier thoughts of running filter out of my mind, vanishing like dust as I bore a hole in the slice of pizza with my gaze.
Something totally fucked up is happening here.
Sloan killed my dad, and now he’s lying about it to his friends. So maybe they don’t know. Maybe they’re not in on it at all.
But then, why?
Levi and Rory are members of the gang too. Clearly, they know what’s been going on with my dad up until now. So why lie to them? Why aren’t they in the loop?
I should run. I should get up, throw this pizza down on their stupid, expensive couch and run away.
But I won’t.
I can’t.
Sitting here, watching Sloan out of the corner of my eye, all I feel is hatred. It’s even stronger than it was when I first came here, burning like fire through my veins. I didn’t know the meaning of the word “hate” until now. And now, that one paltry word doesn’t seem like enough.
Whatever this feeling is that’s burning in my chest, it’s worse than hate.
Sloan killed my dad, and I want to destroy him. Destroy his entire family.
If I go to the cops, they won’t be able to help. The Black Roses run too much of the city. They have a tight hold on businesses and even some local politicians. There are definitely at least a few cops in their pocket. I can’t just show up and tell them about this. For one fucking thing, I have no proof. Just my word against Sloan’s, and in this case, he has much, much more power than I do.
But I’m angry. I’m so fucking mad. Just sitting in the same room with that snake makes me seethe with rage. If I want to get my vengeance on him for what he did, I’m going to have to get it from the inside.
Which means no running.
I’m staying.
I’ll play it cool, act like nothing has changed. I’ll watch and I’ll wait, and if I don’t see an opening to take the Black Roses down, I’ll make one. Because the stakes are higher now. I can’t save my dad anymore, but I can at least get revenge for him.
I’ll make Sloan wish he’d never fucked with either of us.
I’ll make him fucking pay.
Thank you for reading!
Play Rough, book two in the Black Rose Kisses series, is on Amazon HERE.
Want to get a peek into one of the guy’s heads? Click HERE to join my newsletter and claim your free bonus scene from Rory’s POV, or copy and paste this link into your browser:
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And if you’re dying to talk about the book, come hang out in my Facebook group, Eva Ashwood’s Readers. I post giveaways, teasers, and updates there too!
Looking for a new series to binge? Try my completed college bully romance series, Clearwater University. If you liked this book, I think you’ll love that series! Turn the page to check out the cover and blurb.
They were my bullies once.
Three boys I hated more than anything.
They made my life hell for a year--until I escaped their cruelty when my dad's job moved us away.
I've never forgotten them though. Never forgotten what they did. And I know they haven't forgotten me.
But when I'm offered a full-ride scholarship to the prestigious Clearwater University, I refuse to let old fears stop me from accepting.
Because I'm not the girl I used to be.
I'm stronger. Tougher.
Angrier.
And if West, Reese, and Trent think they can fuck with me again... well.
We'll just see who breaks first.
Start reading now!
Books by Eva Ashwood
Clearwater University
(college-age enemies to lovers series)
Who Breaks First
Who Laughs Last
Who Falls Hardest
The Dark Elite
(dark mafia romance)
Vicious Kings
Ruthless Knights
Savage Queen
Slateview High
(dark high school bully romance)
Lost Boys
Wild Girl
Mad Love
Sinners of Hawthorne University
(dark new adult romance)
When Sinners Play
How Sinners Fight
What Sinners Love
Black Rose Kisses
(dark new adult romance)
Fight Dirty
Play Rough
TBA
TBA
(contemporary romance standalone)
Say Yes
Magic Blessed Academy
(paranormal academy series)
Gift of the Gods
Secret of the Gods
Wrath of the Gods
