Page 29 of Roses and Skulls

“But you,” he runs a finger over the scar on my neck. I grip the edge of the couch, my knuckles turning white. “You are strong. You’ve kept our little secret all these years because you know there’s something between us. The fates have brought us together.”

I can’t take it anymore, so I push him away from me.

He gives in, throwing his hands in the air in mock surrender. “Admit it, Billie Rose. I’m all that you’ve thought about for the past three years.”

He’s right.

His dark gaze tries to pull me in. “Think about it. How better to get even with them? Come to my side. Together, we will build this place up. Can you think of a better way to get back at them? They were ready to just hand Bill’s bar over. They didn’t even vet the man who was buying it.”

Why did my mom kill your dad?

He stares at the phone in my hand, shrugging. “Does it matter? We’ve all done things we aren’t proud of. Doesn’t mean we should die for it.”

I was right, Draven knows his dad was evil. A man like that is dangerous, one with no conscience.

What do you want me to do?I ask.

The smile on his face tells me he thinks he’s winning. “Help with the ordering, the hiring, things like that. Nothing too strenuous.” His eyes slide over me.

I stand up.Fine, I’ll do it but I’m not starting until tomorrow.I shove my phone in my back pocket.

“Good,” he says, watching me walk towards the door.

Before I head out, I turn towards him and open my mouth, all but choking on what I’m about to say. “I’ll keep your secrets, if you keep mine,” I say aloud.

He runs his tongue over his teeth. He nods once. “Welcome aboard, Billie Rose.”

I step out, closing the door behind me. The man with the sucker is standing beside the door.

Was he eavesdropping?

My eyes narrow on him.

“I thought you might need a ride home,” he says, stepping around me. He heads towards the back door, not even pausing to see if I’ll follow.

When we get outside, I inform him I do not need a ride. He ignores me as he storms around the side of the building.

“Get on the bike,” he orders, nodding his head towards the most beautiful bike I’ve ever seen.

“Jesus,” I whisper, running my finger over the blue-black roses painted on the gas tank. I can’t help it. I’m my father’s daughter when it comes to bikes.

He shoves a helmet in my stomach. “Get on.”

I push it back at him. “Why the fuck would I get on a strange man’s bike?” I ask, taking a step away from him.

He tips his head, running a tattooed hand over his mouth. It’s covered in black ink.

I take another step back.

“A stranger or a strange man?” he asks calmly.

Hugging myself, I back away even farther. “Both,” I reply. “My car is right over there.” I drag my eyes away from his and point. “Right there under that parking light.”

Everything fades away as I stare at the light bouncing off the cement. A vision of my grandpa and I dancing there takes up the space in my head. I double over, groaning as the reality of everything comes crashing over me.

I’m so wrapped up in my memories that I don’t notice the stranger approach me. He brushes a thumb over my cheek, snapping me out of my thoughts. “You don’t have a car here, do you?” he asks. His brown eyes are softer now, kind. He hands me the helmet again, this time not as aggressive in his actions.

“I’ll go fast,” he coaxes teasingly.

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