Page 18 of Roses Are Dead
Carl was cool, calm, and deliberate as he spoke. “She’s not. She’s… how to put it?” He pretended to think for a moment. Then, that macabre grin got bigger. “She’s property.”
“Of you?”
“Yes.”
Fuck.
I let go, practically dropping her. “I see. No harm. No foul.” I even tucked the gun away to prove to Carl that I was going to let this all go. But I wasn’t. There was a red mark across her arm. It was ugly bright, with the center of it turning darker by the second. Something hard and narrow did that. A cane or maybe a crop. I didn’t know. And nothing nearby gave me any clues.
Notably, she didn’t retreat to Carl for protection. She remained where she’d landed on the floor, barely moving. Her dress was ripped all the way down the back. She’d hunched it up to cover her ass, but that strange undershirt was completely exposed. So was the reddened skin near the armholes and neckline. That was either an allergic reaction or chafing. And it had to hurt.
But she barely moved. Not even to breathe. It was as if she was trying to avoid attracting the attention of a predator.
Or two of them.
5
Roishin
When Carl made me hide, I thought I’d been spared from his anger. I don’t know if it was the pain from the procedure or wrecking the car, but he was in a mood. Or maybe he was ready to enact the retribution he’d promised?
I tried everything to avoid it, appease it… control it. I baked bread. I made the stew recipe his mother made for him. I didn’t mention the cilice, or his promise to let me remove it. None of my efforts worked. He blamed me for the pain. He said vile things about his sister. And he was breaking his promise.
“I’m done suffering at your hands, Rose. You’re going to suffer now.” After that declaration, Carl came at me with the broom. I blocked it.
I yelled back, “If you kill me, Beth and her husband will know it was you. They’ll tell the cops, and your parents.”
He growled because he knew I was right. But that didn’t stop his rage. “I won’t kill you tonight. But you’re going to wish you were dead. I swear it!” Right before he swung again, an alarm started beeping. Carl set the broom in the corner of the kitchen, checked his computer, and told me to hide.
Whoever the huge man on the monitor was, he scared Carl so much that my misery could wait.
That scared me.
The intruder stood at least a hand’s width taller than six feet. I’d heard the nickname “Bear” mentioned. It fit. His arms were thicker than my thighs. One fist could probably fell a small tree.
And he was hairy.
The wiry brown hair on his arms matched his beard. There was so much of it you could barely see the tattoos underneath. Both sides of his scalp were shaved, and tattoos coiled around his skull randomly. They even encroached on his face.
Metal piercings glinted at his eyebrow, ears, and lip. More objects were embedded in his beard and hair.
Like his beard, his hair was dark and long. But he kept it controlled by a thick mess of twists and braids that ran from his forehead to the nape of his neck before trailing down his back in a waterfall of smaller braids, shiny beads, and bits of wood or stone wrapped into the pieces like they’d been trapped there as it grew.
It was wild, like an animal’s.
No, like a feral animal’s mane.
Something shiny glinted at his throat. I tried to see what it was without moving my head to look. But my angle was all wrong. I’d have to move.
Which would be a mistake. One I couldn’t afford to make.
Carl might be evil and cruel, but he wasn’t nearly as strong as the man named Bear.
He’d thrown the couch one-handed.
A whole couch.
It made Carl’s fit with the broom look like… amateur hour. With that strength and that gun, Bear had the will and means to make good on his threat to kill Carl.
