Page 100 of Roses Are Dead
Rose squeezed my waist tighter. I took a moment to pat her hand and warn her to hang on. Fog or not, I never wanted her to let go. Random things like some moron blowing a light could tear us apart.
Or she could get cancer. I could die on a run. A million ways death could find us both knocked on my thoughts, begging to be let in so they could distract me. Or maybe eat me alive, like it had done to John. Even the oldest kids had that haunted knowing in their eyes. I hated it.
And the littlest? By the Allfather, she was a rare one. Fearless. And just a little too aware of how death can snatch someone you love away. It showed in the hugs. Those weren’t innocent. They were driven by despair. She soaked in all of the good because it was going to go away, fast. And she knew she had to hang on as tight as she could because tomorrow?
Shit.
I pulled Rose’s fingers to my lips. Then I put her hand over my heart and made sure it stayed there. I needed her. And I didn’t want to fight anymore. She’d been right. Carl needed an incentive to show up for his sister. And if it took me pissing off both Jackson and Wolf, that’s what it took.
The lights were on at Jackson’s. Zoe’s room was dark. The lounge upstairs lit by a blue glow. Someone was watching a movie.
The downstairs was lit up as well.
I rolled the bike into the garage and handed the keys off to Rose. “Go in, get warmed up. I need to talk to Jackson first, okay?” Before I let go of her hand, I pulled her close. “But I need you.”
Her expression changed. “Why?”
Because you challenge me to be a better man? “I just do. We’ll talk as soon as I get done over there.” I ran a finger down her delicate skin. Why on earth did I think a ton of makeup was pretty? I preferred her light freckles, the slope of her nose…the way her eyes stared into my soul. She was far from perfect, but so damn strong. I was lost to her. “I’m yours.”
It hurt.
I hurt.
She tangled her fingers in my beard. “And I’m yours. I don’t know when that happened, but…”
Thank the Gods.
I kissed her nose. “Get inside.”
“Bossy.”
Not if Wolf or Jackson didn’t want me to be.
For that, I needed to face up to the fuck up that tonight was. I knocked on Jackson’s front door. While I waited, I sent him a text message to make sure he knew I was there.
He was not happy when he opened the door. “Get your ass in here.”
Kate was on the couch. They’d started a fire that crackled perfectly. If you didn’t look at Jackson’s vest or his tattoos, you’d think you just stumbled into one of those cheesy movies where everything can be solved by a hug and maybe a cup of cocoa.
Jackson joined his wife and tucked her tightly at his side.
“Zoe?”
“Watching a movie,” Kate said.
The sound of gunshots and an explosion clued me into any number of the choices she preferred. Luckily, the kid inherited her father’s tastes.
I shuffled my feet, too aware of the cream carpeting. “I’m sorry about tonight.”
“How’s the kids and the dad?” Jackson’s question caught me off guard.
“He’s…rough.” A thousand-yard stare was almost too mild to explain his status. “The kids are good. Rose got them all sorted.”
“What do we know about them?”
Kate pretended not to listen. I’d seen that before. She stayed right where she was and soaked it all in, but kept her opinions and nose out of it. I’m sure that wasn’t the case as soon as those two had a private word, but I wouldn’t judge. She’d seen a hell of a lot worse than Jackson in her day.
“He works construction. I’d lay odds that the house must have been bought by their parents, or with their help. It’s big and has his fingerprints on it. That means it’s not a rental. I do know her parents are loaded. His, I don’t know.”
