Rose (Road Kill MC #3) (4 page)

Rose

Sean King, age twenty-nine.

Dick like a demon, tongue like a saint.

I swallow hard, trying not to remember every thing those parts of his body did to me last night.

Epic fail.

“Aunt Rose!” Charlie shouts.

“Hmm?” I answer, sipping my coffee, shifting as delicious soreness reminds me of my well-used parts.

“You're not listening.”

True. “I'm sorry, dirty worm.”

“Sweet pea!” He stabs the air with his spork, and I sigh.

“Tell Auntie Rose what you need.”

He seems to contemplate, cupping a small hand around a smaller chin. I glance at his plate. Scrambled eggs with cheese is almost a done deal.

The big key to getting a five-year-old to eat food is to slather cheese on top of everything. At least there's no sugar.

My own egg breakfast is cooling. I take another bite. Need to get that protein in. I sip freshly squeezed orange juice. Protein. Glucose. Rinse. Repeat.

“Who is that big man who was here?”

Observant kid. I sigh. “That is Drake. He was really anxious to meet you.”

That isn't a lie.

“Why?”

Uh-huh.
“Because he was a”—
Oh my God
—“friend of your mama's.” By some miracle, I don’t choke.

“Oh!” He says, clapping his hands. Then Charlie frowns.

I know that means more questions.

“So… a boyfriend?”

He’s two weeks in kindergarten, and already, the boy-girl roles are clear.

“Not exactly, but they were friends.”
Before he killed her.

My eyes fill with tears over having to discuss this superficially with Charlie. I take a deep breath.

“He gonna come back?” he asks, taking another bite of egg.

“I don't know,” I answer honestly. I haven't decided what I'm going to do.

Tell the truth, and I'll be responsible for a motorcycle gang war.

Lie, and Charlie goes to visit Drake.

Can I tell partial truths?

Am I capable of that?

Noose fills my mind. His face. His body.

Can he really protect me? Is it fair to ask a guy I just met last week to protect me?

No.

He said he loves you, Rose.

Thing is
I know I love him
.
How that's even possible, I don't know.

But Crystal went down on him yesterday, then he had sex with me. I should have kicked him out just for that.

Instead, I let him have sex with me. Three times. I let him do—my face bursts into flames—things with his tongue I didn't know were possible.

Real love is sacrifice.

My gaze moves over Charlie’s mussed hair and Minion pajamas. His legs swing underneath the table as his hand holds his face. He's daydreaming, looking through our glass sliding door at the park outside.

Kids swing while mothers push them. Dads stand around talking. My chest tightens.

“Aunt Rose?”

“Yes?” My face swivels to him, and I pinch the bridge of my nose to stifle tears.

“Let's go to the park today.”

I point at the other kids playing. “That one?” I can't bear to go to Scenic yet. I know Drake won't be there. But my heart begins to beat harder when I think about it.

I nod. “Sure, sweet pea. You done?” I give his egg crumbs an eyebrow lift.

“I'm full.”

“Okay.” I scoop up the plate, bring it to the sink, and empty the little bit he didn't finish into the disposal.

“Are you jogging today, Rose?”

I glance at Charlie and shake my head. “I think I've had enough working out.”

His grin is large.

Mine answers his. I know I should jog. But I think I got enough horizontal aerobics last night to last me a day or two.

*

I expect to get texts from Noose, but the cell he gave me stays dark.

The two hours Charlie and I are at the park is torture. I second-guess what I did with Noose. What I told him.

What he told me.

I don't even know Sean King. I go over what I
do
know.

Noose is dangerous.

I watched him come at somebody with a rope. Two huge knots the size of my fists had been on either end. One end hit the guy so hard it had bloodied his nose. I hadn't felt bad about that.

Noose is in a motorcycle gang.

He's an expert at sex.

That's good, and bad. He's probably fantastic at sex because he's partaken of so much, it's a matter of sheer practice makes perfect.

I plant my forehead in my palm.
God, Rose, you're a fool.

And now that I've come back down to earth after Noose isn't in my personal space, I realize I had sex with him without a rubber.

I've been with two guys in my life: Nick, from high school, and Noose. I've used up a lot of batteries with my trusty little vibrator. I'm sure I would have used that less and real men more if Drake hadn't happened.

If I didn't get Charlie when I was nineteen.

Not many guys want to date a girl my age with a kid. Not many girls want men when they've been through what I have and seen what I've seen.

But here I am, sexing it out with a biker. Just like Anna.

Noose is nothing like Drake.

But what is he? Who is he? That should matter more than it does. When he's with me, nothing matters but him.

When Noose is not there, I can think. Rationalize. Process.

Charlie tears through the house.

“Hey, slow down!” I call out, laughing. He's too old for naps, really. But we didn't get back from Mom and Dad's until almost midnight. We're both beat.

Me for different reasons. A secret little smile flickers across my face. I would lose sleep every day for something like what Noose gives me.

My smile fades. Feeling conflicted isn't good. It gets you hurt.

“I'll read you a story if you promise to take a nap!” I yell after him.

“I pick!” he shouts back.

I know what he’ll choose.

“Where the Wild Things are!”

All little boys love danger.

Big boys too.

*

I'm running. Drake's boots stomp behind me.

I blast through the dappled light, sprinting up the jogging path. Shadows lengthen, flanking me.

My lungs burn for oxygen I can't get fast enough.

A familiar dizziness spreads like a blanket over my body, and I stumble.

Hands clamp onto my arms, lifting me.

I fight, flailing.

“Rose.”
I know that voice.

My eyelids are sewn shut. My lungs feel like they'll burst.

“Rose.”

Ice pours through my veins as my eyelids slowly rise.

Three of Noose tremble before my vision. I blink open my sagging eyelids again.

Couch.

Home.

Noose holds me. “You all right?”

I shudder, remembering Drake's hands biting into my arms. “Drake,” I croak.

Noose growls. I swear to God, he growls. “Where?”

I shake my head. “Nightmare.”

I look around, swinging my legs off the couch. “How'd you get in here?”

Noose rolls his eyes. “Your kid could do it. Unsafe digs, babe. Just sayinʼ.” He stands smoothly, crossing his arms. “Some nightmare.”

“Yeah.” My voice shakes. My topknot has come undone, and I take out the tie. Hair cascades all around me like a curtain.

I look at Noose through the strands of my hair. “I thought you were going to text me.” Feeling disoriented, I glance at the kitchen clock and groan. It's almost four. Charlie's going to be grouchy as hell. We both overslept after a couple of hours at the park. I sigh.

And Noose broke into my house.
God.

“Trainer's got his titty in a ringer.” Noose smirks.

I cock an eyebrow.
Sounds painful.

“But he's gotta eat and shit. So I said I'd come by and check on you.”

Noose on a mission isn't tender. He's hard.

I stand.

“Don't like the way you're lookinʼ at me, Rose.”

Shit, his instincts are so acute. I shift my weight.

“I—Noose, I can't have you just walking in here.”

He shrugs. “Not gonna lie. Your protection is serious.”

“I have Charlie, a job—a life.”

“A life with me now.”

I look up at him. Way up. “I need to know you more.”

His face smooths to neutrality. “Not much for flapping my gums.”

God, do I know that. “I'm talkative.”

“No shit,” he says with a sudden grin. He turns away for a second, maybe hearing something I can't, and I catch sight of the wound on his head.

I'm ashamed I didn't notice when I was screwing his brains out last night.

I reach up and touch it.

His gaze returns to me, glittering like storm clouds filled with electricity. “Rose.”

Noose captures my hand and pulls me against his body. The feel of him is perfectly conformed to me, and I sink into his heat. His protection.

“Why do you feel so good?” I whisper.

“I've been asking myself that same thing.” There's a smile in his voice, and I tip my head back.

I smack him.

“Arrogant bastard.”

“That's the God's honest truth.”

My smile slips. “Tell me about you, Noose. You know everything about me. I don't know anything about you. I mean—” I tuck my hair behind my ears, and Noose watches the gesture like he's hungry.

The heat in his eyes makes things tighten down low, and my breath catches—from a look. “I'm at a supreme disadvantage.”

Noose sighs. “Where's the kid?”

“Charlie's napping.”

I'm putting his feet to the fire. But I can't go forward—I won't—unless I know
who
he is.

“I was in the Navy. A Seal.”

I blink.

Noose chuckles. “You don't look like you know much about the military?”

I shake my head with a small shrug. “Just what I hear off the TV.”

He lifts his shoulders again, glancing away, and begins talking, almost to himself. “We're a special team of guys. Work together. Do stuff.”

That clear penetrating gaze comes back to me.

“Things you can talk about?”

He shakes his head.

“What about the knots?” I imagine the swinging knot shot into that guy's nose, bursting it like a piece of bloody fruit.

Noose's face is unreadable. “What about them?”

“When you—” I swallow past my fear of mentioning my time in the circle of bikers. “Saved me.”

Noose nods solemnly. Not a hint of a smile. No expression.

“You used that rope—
how
you used it. It was something.”

“I do knots.”

Noose.
A lightbulb goes on. “What does
that
mean?”

Noose tears impatient fingers through his neatly tied hair. Not so neat now.

“Means some guys fight with their fists. Some use knives. Guns. I do knots.”

Yes. Yes, he does.

“Oh,” I say in the lamest answer on earth. “So, what does that all mean. Your name… your…”
Unique skill with ropes
. A sudden image of Drake tying me down makes my breath come faster.

“What's put that look on your face, Rose?” Noose asks softly, stepping into my personal space, his large hands cupping my shoulders lightly.

“Drake tied me down.” The one lipsticked word
Mine
pings around inside my head.

I stare into Noose's face. Anger swarms his features. “It means,” he answers my earlier question carefully, “that if a rope's in my hands, someone's gonna die.”

Noose

Rose's face closes down.

She asked the questions. She got answers. The answers, I can give. There's a fuck ton I can't. The moratorium on sharing secrets in the military lasts pretty much forever.

Rose only needs to know that if I'm holding a rope, it's a deadly weapon. But not against her. Never her.

“You didn't kill them.”

I shake my head. “Nah. Prez doesn't want a war.” I shrug. “Might get there anyway. But killing would've had one in our laps right away.”

“So”—her eyes find mine—“you were buying time?”

I nod. “Yup. Had to get ya, Rose. Had to do stuff to do it.”

“Was it hard?”

I smile. “There ya go again. Was what hard?”

My smile broadens when a pink blush fills her cheeks, making them rosy. Beautiful. I touch her face, running a thumb over her hot skin.

“Holding back.”

My fingers drop. “Yeah.”

“You wanted to kill them?”

A thrum of adrenaline whips through me. “Oh yeah.”

I watch her swallow her fear. “Don't you be fucking scared of me, Rose.”

“I am.” She shivers. “You're a scary man, Noose.”

“True.” I study her face, towing her back into my body. “Never to you, babe.” I breathe her in, smelling fruit, vanilla, and her sweet skin.

“I'm scared, Noose.”

I tighten my arms around her. “Of me?” I hold my breath.

“No. You scare me, but I'm not scared
of
you.”

I pull away, smiling. “That doesn't make sense.”

She smiles back. “Don't worry. It makes sense to me.”

“Where do we go from here, Noose?”

I shrug. “Taking things one day at a time. Seems best.”

“I can't do one day at a time with Charlie.”

Hadn't thought about the kid. Not used to it. “First thing. I want to be there for the hearing.” I search her face and see relief. Then I start breathing again.

“I appreciate you, Noose.”

I pull away. “I'm hearing a
but.
” My body tenses, and I can't help the reaction. I can keep blank face. I can keep my fat mouth shut, but the body's reaction is always honest.

She nods. “I don't want anything to sway the judge's decision.”

Fuck. Rose is ashamed of me. I step away. “Good enough to fuck but not good enough to be seen with me? I thought we worked that shit out. You're classy, and I'm not, but I'm real enough to be honest. Are you being honest?”

Rose's head dips. When her eyes meet mine again, they blaze like stoked brown embers. “I'm not just fucking you”—her voice goes low—“I told you how I feel. But having a biker there at the hearing…”

“Looking like me.” I sweep my palm down my body.

“Yes.” She nods. “Looking like you.” Her eyes run down my body, and the blush that had disappeared flares to life again. My dick gets hard as her eyes move over my body. “I love the way you look, Noose.” Her fingers touch my chest, and I have to turn away or drop to my knees and worship Rose. Like a fucking pussy. I turn around and cross my arms to keep from touching her.

She talks to my back. “I'm just so scared, Noose. That if I don't make the right impression, the judge will award joint custody to Drake.”

Hearing pure terror in her voice, I turn. “I won't let that happen.”

She runs a finger along my mouth, and I catch my breath, feeling the fire of her touch to my toes. I close my eyes, sinking into the tactile sensation that is Rose. “I know you've got my best interests, Noose. Just stay away until this is over—please.”

I capture her finger, sucking it into my mouth. “Can't. Can't let you face that fucker Diablo by yourself.”

“Promise me you won't kill him.”

Fuck.
“I can't make that promise. He touches you, he dies. He hurts you, he dies slowly.”

“With a knot?”

I don't reply, and her half-smile disappears. I can't be light when we're talking about knots. They form in my mind. Three knots would take care of Diablo. A fourth is a contender too. That comes together in my mind automatically, like breathing.

Rose walks into my body, stepping onto the top of my boots with her bare feet and laying her face in the center of my chest.

I wrap my arms around her. Our heartbeats sync. “I'm going to be there, but I won't show my face.”

“Will that be hard for you, Noose?”

Fuck yes.
“Yeah.” I
want
that fucker to see me. Feel the threat.

“Thank you.” Her breath is warm through my T-shirt.

I won't show my mug, but I'll be there with the entire club. I let her go, and she steps off my feet. “You look good, Rose.”

“I feel good.” She dips her head, and I know she's thinking about our time together. Hell, my cock is, standing up at attention, ready for round four.

Rose looks at my crotch. “I can't wear you out!” She laughs.

“You could
try
.” I smirk.

She grins.

I head for the door, checking out all the security issues. Her house is an open invitation to anyone that wants to break in.

Maybe I just move Rose in with me.

I turn and look at her. She looks happy, but unsure.

She'll be sure soon.

“You got work tomorrow?”

Rose nods. “Yeah, Ned's a dickhead, but he gave me the day off Tuesday.”

Ned
is
a dickhead, but he's on the Road Kill leash, so it's doable.

“What?” She studies my expression.

I shut my emotions down like closing a door.

“Your boss. He's handling the Road Kill account.”

“That sounds like dead animals.” She giggles.

I grin. “Nah. I could see where a citizen would think that.” I shrug. “It's about killing road. Taking the road. Freedom.” Now that I try to explain it, those feelings—it's not easy.

“Citizen?” Her light brows come together.

“The ninety-nine percent of the population who don't mind living with laws.”

“Oh. I follow rules.” She shrugs.

“Me too.” My voice is hollow.

She cocks her head, and I fight moving back, kissing her face until that soft look of lust is the only one she wears. “I think you follow the rules that you want.”

I chuckle. “True.”

She walks to me. Rising to her tiptoes, she kisses my lips.

I groan, crushing her to me. “You okay, Rose?”

She nods. “I don't think Drake's going to push anymore right before the trial. And he's got that attractive mark you made with the rope.”

I nod. “It's not the one I wanted to make.”

Her pulse hammers at the hollow of her throat. “What did you want to make?”

She shouldn't have asked. My honesty is always at a steep price. “A permanent one.”

Rose lowers to her flat feet. “Oh.”

I chuck her beneath her chin. “Don't worry, babe. He got his free pass that one time. Nothing's free after that.”

I walk to her door, slide the latch, and open it.

I feel Rose before she slides her arms around my waist.
God.
Tenderness wells up inside me. I fight it. And lose.

I slide my hands over the tops of hers.

“Be careful.” Her breath is warm at my back.

“Always.” I move away from her fingers.

Toughest shit I've ever done.

*

“I know I fucked up!” Trainer wails. “But this detail? Fuck me!”

I'm forking Chinese food in my craw with abandon, watching Trainer swab the puke-and-cum-soaked decks.

“Nope!” I say, raising a chopstick. The oriental design on the side reminds me of a knot. I work it in my head while I dress Trainer down.

“Rose Christo is my property. Repeat after me.”

Trainer's lips flatten. “Fuck,” he mutters.

Wring picks chicken chow mien from his teeth. “Do it, fucktard.”

“Rose Christo is your property.” Sullen, he spits it out. Five hours of cleaning up post-party gore will do it.

“Nice pronoun switch. Didn't know if you'd fuck that up too.” This, from Snare. Mr. English.

I send a hard glance his way. “Hey”—he spreads his hands inoffensively away from his body—“while you guys were fucking around in the Middle East, I was getting my schooling.”

Fucking around. Right.
“What-fucking-ever,” I say, glaring at him while I twist and stab the noodles.

“You really promised Rose you wouldn't be there at the hearing?” Wring asks, his eyes dark with disbelief.

“I promised her I wouldn't show my face.”

“Ah,” Wring says. “That's different.”

I point chopsticks at him. “Damn straight.” I chug half a beer and set it down on the table that stands in the middle of the club.

Trainer's gloved up to the elbows.

I don't even wanna see what's in the bucket.

Last night's party, which I missed while I was fucking Rose all night, had been a panty dropping, boozing orgy.

Fucking Trainer dropped the ball, falling asleep on his watch and missing Diablo breaking and entering at Rose's, letting him tie my girl up and put that word on her body.

It wasn't
if
Diablo would die—but when. He’s a dead man walking.

I know it.

The club knows it.

Deep down, Rose knows it. Maybe a part of her doesn't want to kill Charlie's dad. But he's nothing but a sperm donor.

“Lariat's watching Rose. But he's not happy about picking belly lint because ya thought you'd snooze.”

Trainer blows out a frustrated exhale. “How many times do I have to say I fucked up?” He slaps gloved hands on his thighs.

Disgusting shit stays on his jeans. He looks down and curses.

Wring works the lump of food around in this mouth. “More,” he says.

Trainer sighs, defeated.

I hop off the stool at the bar, load my arms with trash, and chuck it all in the bag at Trainer's side.

I stretch, reaching for the ceiling. I tap it, heels hitting the ground, stiff from all the stress. “Fuck, tense as fuck with all this shit going on with Rose.”

Lariat's text comes in. Picture's worth a thousand words. It's a photo of Rose moving through the front doors of the bank.

High heels, tight skirt. Instant hard-on.

I text back:
Thanks
. Autocorrect is so used to my one-word replies, it has it filled in after the
T
.

“What are you doing, Noose?”

I flip Snare off. “Working, asshole. Some of us actually do that. Besides, I gotta be there tomorrow, putting in extra time at the shop.” Road Kill has their own mechanic—me.

Always been wired that way. Even during my foster care years, when every fucking thing was sideways, I could just put shit together—or take it apart. My life was in ruins, but parts worked. Cars and bikes, they make sense.

Besides, the auto repair outfit is a fucking awesome front for all kinds of shit the club dabbles in. I'm more than a money runner. Snare is our sergeant-at-arms, but I chose not to be.

I don't have an off switch. That I was able to turn off and not kill Diablo was a miracle.

Pretty soon, there won't be a switch around that can turn me off killing that fucker.