Page 15 of Black Roses

Skylar protests with a whiny shrill. “What? No. You promised you’d be here, Mason. You said you’d hold my hand. I need both of you or I’ll chicken out, I know I will.”

She starts to rise from the chair. I take a deep breath and blow it out audibly through my pursed lips. Then I gently push her back down. “Fine. I’ll stay.” I look over at Spike to see him bringing the supplies over. “How long did you say this will take?”

Spike sets up a tray next to Skylar’s chair. “Well, there’s no color and it’s a pretty basic design. I’d say two hours.”

“Two hours?” Piper says, incredulously. She gives me a brief glance and rolls her eyes.

I feel the same way, sister. I don’t want to be in the presence of Piper Mitchell any more than she wants to be around me. She’s trouble on a freaking stick. A loose cannon. A woman on the edge. I do not need that kind of complication right now. No matter how many times she may appear in my fantasies.

An hour later, I’m busying myself answering emails and texts one-handedly while Skylar keeps a death-grip on my other hand. The sisters chat away, interrupted only by occasional squeals of pain from the elder one. My eyes start to bug out from looking at the small screen for so long. I put my phone in my pocket and stand up to stretch, being careful not to drop Skylar’s hand.

It’s then that I notice the bracelet on Piper’s wrist. I saw it before, in the car on the way back from the airport, and it occurs to me that I don’t think I’ve ever seen her go without it. While her attention is otherwise occupied, I take a closer look. It appears to be a made of intertwining leather bands around a charm depicting a rose. The rose is so dark it’s hard to make out. The entire bracelet is black—almost goth looking, a contradiction to the multi-colored, non-descript, Bohemian-style clothing she seems to prefer.

Suddenly, Piper’s left hand breaks free from Skylar’s. I look up to see she’s caught me staring at it. She tucks it behind the table, replacing it with her other one. I question her with my drawn brows, but she ignores me, going back to their conversation about what hours she’s going to work at Mitchell’s NYC this weekend.

Oh, this is news. She’s waitressing at NYC? That means she’s working side-by-side with that waiter boy who wants her. What was his name, Jacob? The one with all the tats.

“It’s Jarod,” Skylar says, now staring at me over her shoulder. She winks at me, and if the ground could swallow up a two-hundred-and-twenty-pound quarterback, it’d be a welcome burial.Did I really fucking say that out loud?

I try saving a little face. “Uh, right, Jarod. He seems like a good kid.” I pry my hand away from Skylar, flexing and fisting it to get the blood flowing again. “I have to hit the restroom. Spike?”

He points the way as I try to walk unceremoniously out of the room while everyone quietly laughs.

When I’m fully immersed in the bathroom, I lock the door and walk over to the sink, putting my hands on either side of it while my head slumps between my shoulders. I raise my head and look at the unfamiliar guy in the mirror. The love-sick puppy lost in a grown man’s body. I blink my eyes once, twice—then I concede the facts. I want her. I want Piper Mitchell.

I just wonder how far I’m willing to go to get her.

chapter seven

piper

I wake with a start. Sweat is pooling between my breasts, soaking the shirt I sleep in. I try to shake off the nightmare when it occurs to me—this is no nightmare. It’s Aaron wailing at the top of his four-week-old lungs in his bedroom down the hall. I shut my eyes tightly waiting for the incessant crying to cease. It doesn’t. I roll over and pull the pillow over my head, shoving it into my ears to muffle the noise.

It’s no use. I won’t get back to sleep. I sit up and throw my legs over the side of the bed, cursing Trick and my sore muscles. It’s been two weeks of training and even my hair seems to hurt. I rise and look in the mirror, detecting a hint of defined muscle in my upper arms. Why do my arms need to be so strong for a foot race?

I quickly throw on my workout gear and grab my gym bag. I head down the stairs, snagging a banana from the fruit bowl on my way out the door. “Later!” I shout as I walk through it. I’m sure I wasn’t heard. Aaron is still screaming.

My thoughts take a bad turn on my way to the gym and I find myself scanning the nameless faces on my walk. I watch expressions of men my age as they catch my eyes.Do they know me?I scan my memories, my dreams, much like how the FBI runs facial recognition on criminals. Have I seen them before?

My feet quicken, feeling the panic rising up through my tense body. I can’t wait to get on the treadmill and lose myself in a run.

~ ~ ~

Hours later, my mind calm and my legs like jelly, I pick up my bag and leave the locker room, fresh from a shower. Trick gives me a thumbs-up as I exit the front door of the gym. She must have known what I needed today. We sparred in the ring and I was on fire. She worked me hard, but I’d say I gave her a run for her money. I find myself smiling despite the beating my body took today.

The smile quickly dissolves, along with most of the blood in my face, when I absentmindedly run into a man outside the gym doors.

“Oh, sorry, young lady,” he says, not recognizing me as I do him, because he’s busy picking up the book he dropped when we collided.

I try to step away, but my feet won’t move. My blood boils as I stare down at him. Despite the fact that my fists have already had a workout today, I ball them tightly and contemplate pummeling the old bastard. The only thing keeping me from jumping him is the thought of where I’m standing—right in front of the gym my brothers-in-law own. Bad press could hurt their business. Bad press could also bring attention to me, something I can’t afford.

Before I fully come to my senses and walk away, the man stands. The blood drains fromhisface as well, but we both know it’s not for the same reason. I feel rage while all he feels is shame. “Piper?”

I turn my back on him and will my legs to move.

“Piper Mitchell, is that you?”

My legs propel me slowly away from him.

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