Read Rose (Road Kill MC #3) Online
Authors: Marata Eros
Rose (Road Kill MC #3)
ROSE
A Road Kill MC Novella
Volume 3
New York Times
Bestselling author
MARATA EROS
All Rights Reserved.
Copyright © 2016 Marata Eros
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to a legitimate retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Cover art by
Willsin Rowe
Editing suggestions provided by
Red Adept Editing.
CONTENTS
Vengeance
Drake Corbin, aka Diablo, has plans for Rose Christo that reach far beyond getting his property back.
He wants another woman to abuse.
Rose is determined to save Charlie, but when the final verdict is read, her spirit is crushed by the outcome.
After two encounters with Drake, she knows she will not survive a third.
Has Rose misplaced her trust in Noose? Is he nothing more than the callous user of women he appears to be—or is he the very thing she needs to survive her life—and maybe find love…
Hope
Sean King, aka Noose, doesn't need a woman—he never has.
Then Rose Christo earns something no other woman has ever managed—his trust. Noose's carefully built facade begins to slip, and he must admit what she means to him:
More than property.
More than novelty tail.
More than anyone has ever meant to him before.
The woman he loves.
Is Noose ready to sacrifice everything to tie a knot so permanent, no one will recover? Road Kill, him—Rose?
Can she stand what he will have to do to keep her safe?
My dear brothers, James and William. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you.
Tamara Rose Blodgett:
&
Marata Eros:
A Terrible Love
(
New York Times
bestseller)
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Noose
I
am
a goddamned pussy.
How many times does a bitch have to tell my stupid ass no before I can take the hint?
“How'd that go?” Wring asks.
I glare, stomping to my bike parked a couple of blocks away from Rose's house.
Jerking my shoulders around my earlobes is my reply. I hop onto my bike and turn the key. The engine noise fills the silence I've made.
“That good, eh?” Wring's lips twist, and I flip him off.
He grins. “Did ya ask her out or just lay one on her?”
I snort, kicking my leg over the seat, and sit, crossing my arms.
Prick.
“I didn't. Shit.” I hang my head. “I saw her, and she looked—goddamn—she looked hot and fragile, and I just wanted to hold her and fuck her and—” I grab my hair, wanting to tear it out of my scalp. “Rose makes me fucking crazy.”
Wring keeps that shit-eating grin going.
My hands fist against my chest. “What's so funny, you prick?” I jerk open my handlebar pouch and hammer out a cig from the pack before tossing it back inside the small leather bag. I jam the cig between my lips, light the tip, and slide the lighter inside my back pocket.
“Touchy,” Wring comments quietly, eyebrows sweeping up.
I fight the urge to flip him off again, squinting through the opaque smoke. “Yeah, I am. Just made a fucking fool outta myself in front of the brothers. Didn't even get the girl.”
“Won't be the first time a girl's made a man do stupid shit. Won't be the last.”
“Got a few more pearls?”
Wring chuckles. “Of wisdom? Nah. But you should have just played it cool. Told her you wanted to start fresh, like normal folk.” My eyes slit further, and Wring ignores me, continuing, “That you'd like to be there for her with the hearing on Tuesday. But no—you
had
to charge in and lay the whammy on the poor broad…”
“The fucking ʻwhammyʼ? What in the fuck is that?”
Wring's palm waves around in the air. “Kissed her, dry humped her, et cetera.” His eyes meet mine.
I don't have a lot of trouble with blushing. I do now, though. He'd exactly described about where I was five minutes ago—like a mutt trying to hump Rose's leg. I feel about as smart as one. Maybe that's being kind.
I scowl harder.
Wring shifts his weight on his seat, shrugging. “She tell you to fuck off?”
Pretty much.
“No, she doesn't talk like that. Rose told me she doesn't want to take a chance with me when she's got her sister's kid to think about. That I might come and go.” I waffle my hand back and forth.
Wring rolls his lips together to keep from laughing.
I want to punch that smirk off his face. Instead, I purse my lips, blowing a smoke ring. I stare at its ghostly outline against the midnight color of the sky, trying to calm my shit.
“Would you?” Wring's eyebrows drag down, hooding his gaze.
My head dips as I meet his eyes. The moon is hidden behind a cloud; light is non-existent. Even the streetlamp across the street is strangled to only a small circle of illumination.
My excellent night vision makes out Wring's face. The disbelief.
I suppose I deserve that attitude. Since Afghanistan, I haven't given two shits and a fuck about being solid with any girl. Seems like fucking work.
Hell, it
is
work.
The thing is, now the work feels worthwhile, like a task that will set me free if I just have the balls to see it through.
“No.” My answer is a knife slicing the soft purr of the bikes.
“Then she doesn't have anything to worry about.” Wring studies my expression. “Spill it. What dumb thing did you do that you're not telling me?”
I bark out a laugh. “It
was
fucking dumb.”
Wring waits.
“Rose gets back to the club. Doc looks her over, says she'll be okay, just had a nasty shock—”
“A nasty shock?” Wring smirks.
It'd been a helluva a lot more than that, but yeah.
I nod. “So we start getting into it, and she blows her cork.”
Wring sits up straighter. “No shit? After all that with Chaos—”
“Yeah, I just barely did anything to her and—” I mime an explosion with my hands.
Wring nods enthusiastically. “Nice. Love pleasuring chicks.”
What guy doesn't?
Seeing a girl come is the ultimate
fuck yes
.
But… “See, I know we can't have sex. Rose just went through that bullshit, and my balls are swollen fucking cannons.” I grab my package, and Wring gives a sympathetic expression.
“So she gives me the blow off. I need time—space—whatever the fuck.”
Wring's face looks exactly like Snare's did when I told him. “Hurts, man. Not going to lie on that score.”
I rake my hair back. It's fucked up. I don't have a tie. The mess falls forward, and I flip it back. “Anyways, Crystal comes into my room. Dick's about ready to go
boom
.”
“No.” Wring's face says it all.
I blow out a tortured exhale. “Yeah. She sucks me off. Feels great. Rose has got me so worked up, I think she'd have to bone me ten times before I'd be outta ammo.”
Wring's shoulders shake with suppressed laughter. Humor makes his eyes glitter in the uncertain light.
“
Not
funny, asshole.”
“Oh, yeah—it totally is.” He chuckles.
Dick.
“This part isn't.”
Wring straightens, his expressions sliding into painful revelation. “No way!” His voice, barely more than a whisper, carries.
I nod miserably. “I guess Rose was looking for me. She found me alright, along with an eyeful of Crystal blowing me.”
Wring winces. “
Not
good, man. Makes you look like you're a lying sack of shit.”
Yeah.
“Thing is”—I spread my arms, dropping ash onto the pavement—“it meant less than fucking nothing, and Rose had just gotten done telling me she didn't want me around—blew me off. Even though we'd saved her from…”
“The rape,” Wrings says easily.
My eyes flick to his. “Yeah.”
“Did you expect her to give you a gratitude fuck, Noose?”
I move my jaw back and forth. “Fuck no, dickhead. I expected her to think I was okay. That I had her back.”
Wring laughs. “Thinking you want more than her back, pal.”
I do.
We laugh.
“You know what I mean.”
“Yeah.”
Our silence is easy. Always has been.
“Text Trainer. Make sure she's okay then ride over here tomorrow. Lay things on the line after she's had some rest, time to think.”
“Sounds good.” I lean forward and hit my cell. Midnight. I've been shooting the breeze for half an hour. Got nowhere. Didn't solve shit. ʼBout normal.
“Rose Christo might never want a man like you, Noose. Have you considered that?”
“Fuck no,” I answer instantly.
Wring shakes his head. “Figured.”
He doesn't take his eyes from mine. “She's not a club girl. Doesn't know the culture. Doesn't seem to want the lifestyle. Got a kid.”
“Not hers. She's got her dead sister's kid.” My eyes cut him like knives.
Wring raises a finger. “But to her, that kid is a link to her sister, the only one. Her sister who's gone now. Charlie is all she's got. And it's stronger than your need to bone her.”
I don't want to say it, but just hearing Wring say that shit and knowing it's not the complete truth—I can't do it. “It's more than boning, I'm thinkinʼ.”
“I know that.” Wring's voice is level.
“No, I mean—” My inhale is painful, my throat going tight. “I think I might actually care about her.”
Wring sighs, shaking his head and tipping it back, gazing at stars covered by clouds. “No shit?”
I laugh. “Yeah, no shit.”
“Care or…?”
I point at Wring. “Don't say it.”
“Okay, I won't, but don't tell her that. She'll really think you're crazy. Nobody really loves somebody after knowing them a few days, Noose. Nobody.”
I guess I didn't get the memo.
I snatch my cell back and scroll to Trainer's dumb mug.
Status.
I tap out then hit
send
. My cell autocorrects my ass because I suck at texting.
I stomp out my cig, light another, then blow a couple of hard rings into the sky. The dark eats them.
I stare at my black screen, cold and soundless inside my palm.
“No response?” Wring asks. “He's never going to patch in. Dumb fucker's always taking a snooze at the wrong damn time.”
My face goes hard. “What if he's not?”
“No way is Diablo going to try for her this soon.”
“I would.” I regret it instantly. I regret letting her walk into that house without checking it out first with my own eyes. Fuck the prospect. He's simply not invested in her the way I am. I'm all in.
Balls.
Mind.
Everything. Soon it'd be my pussy heart. Yeah, already feel the slide down the hill there.
There's no stoppinʼ some types of momentum.
“We know where Trainer is. We'll just go by and see if he's sawing logs. Kick his ass if he is.”
I flick the butt of the cig and hit the kickstand, putting the King into gear.
We pull out, then Wring and I move away from Rose's house, traveling to a dirt trail with a sweet view of her backyard across a kiddie park. If he's been asleep on the Rose detail, I'll pull out his asshole.
If he's not, I wanna know why he didn't answer my text.
My stomach does a flip. Deep down, my instincts are flashing a warning.
I never ignore them.
I won't now.
I gesture to Wring, who interprets it effortlessly.
You go check on Trainer. I'll do Rose,
my split hand signal says.
We yoke as I turn around, heading back toward Rose's.
I ignore the tightness in my shoulders, forcing myself to focus on only the things in front of my nose.
It's all the emotional shit that keeps beating the hell outta me I can't ignore.
