Blood & Roses (Vigilante Crime Series) Read online

  “Happy birthday, shorty,” he said. He stood a full head above her. It was a longstanding between them, but the way he said it tonight was different too. He said it in a soft voice that was full of…something.

  Looking up at him, Rose felt as if she were looking at a stranger—a really cute stranger.

  His dark hair was floppy, and a chunk curved in a natural curl right at his sculpted cheekbone, nearly covering one of his dark brown eyes. As he looked down at her, she saw him—almost for the first time—as someone else might see him. She saw him how those two girls saw him.

  He was hot.

  Out in the warm night Rose felt a small chill race over her that she didn’t understand.

  They both turned toward the street as a large group of people holding beer mugs came by, singing loudly.

  It was a crazy night, and it was going to get crazier. The Barcelona soccer team had won the championship, and the streets were wet with alcohol. Everyone was singing and drinking and laughing.

  “They must all be celebrating your birthday too,” Timothy said and smiled at her.

  She laughed. As she did, a guy veered away from the mass of people walking by and headed their way. He was stumbling a little—clearly drunk. A tourist for sure.

  Instead of watching him, Rose’s eye was caught by two people who were standing immobile in the roving crowd. While everyone else was walking, they stood stock still, staring at her. There was something about them that sent a ripple of unease through Rose. Unlike most of the revelers who had on shorts, they wore black pants and heavy jackets even though it was close to ninety degrees.

  Instinctively, Rose knew they were packing. Nobody would wear a jacket like that in this heat unless they were trying to hide a gun.

  Before she could say anything about them, the drunk guy was right in front of them, blocking her view of the other two men in the crowd.

  The drunk said something in a different language to them. Rose didn’t know what it meant, but Timothy apparently did because he said something back in a harsh tone.

  The guy shrugged his shoulders and left. But as he did, he pursed his lips together and blew Rose a kiss. When he moved away, the two men were gone.

  “What was that about?” Rose asked.

  “Nothing.”

  Rose grabbed his hand. “Oh, come on! What did he say?”

  “He asked if you were my girlfriend.”

  Rose burst into laughter.

  Timothy turned away from her and stared out at the street. For some reason, it felt like a brush off. Was he angry with her for some reason?

  She stood closer to him until their arms brushed. He moved slightly away.

  Rose swallowed back her hurt feelings.

  “Didn’t mean to ruin things for you by coming out when you were talking to those girls,” she said lightly.

  He turned to look at her with an incredulous look on his face.

  “What?” his face scrunched up.

  “Those two girls. They obviously were upset when I came out.”

  He scoffed. “They meant nothing to me. I can’t even remember what they looked like.”

  Rose was secretly pleased, but she shrugged.

  “Trust me when I say they know exactly what you look like.”

  “I’m not interested.”

  “Why not?” Rose said. For some reason as she said it, her blood pounded, and she found she was holding her breath.

  “You know why, Rose.” His voice was low and sent a tremor through her.

  In an attempt to end the awkwardness that had suddenly sprung between them, Rose reached up and gently took the cigarette out of his mouth. Slowly, with her eyes on his, she brought it to her own mouth and took a long drag. The look in his eyes made her dizzy.

  Or maybe it was the nicotine. She reached up to put the cigarette back in his mouth and found herself mesmerized by his lips. They had such a sexy curve to them that she hadn’t noticed before—not in the four years of their friendship. His mouth opened slightly, and she placed the cigarette back between them, her fingers brushing his lips softly. Dropping her hand by her side, she turned away to hide the look on her face.

  As she moved away, he grabbed her by the wrist. She looked up in surprise.

  “Rose?” he said her name in a strangled voice.

  She stared at him. He was moving closer, leaning down. She couldn’t catch her breath. All she wanted was his mouth on hers. All she could see was his head dipping closer, and she lifted her head to his.

  “Timothy,” a deep voice said.

  It was his father.

  They both jerked away from one another, startled.

  Timothy’s father, dressed in a white apron, stood in the doorway.

  “Could you help me pass out the slices of cake?” his father said in his Italian accent.

  “Sure.”

  Timothy dropped the cigarette onto the ground, stubbed it out with this foot, and then stooped to pick it up and put it in the trash.

  And then he was gone, leaving Rose to stand on the sidewalk trembling, wondering what the hell had just happened.

  2

  It seemed as if the stench of death itself woke her.

  As her eyes fluttered open she was met with more darkness.

  She was disoriented. She had no idea where she was.

  Although she couldn’t see, she started logging what she could make out: smell, feel, sounds.

  The smell of rot. What she imagined corpses smelled like when they were dug up after a few days underground. She gagged, swallowing back her vomit. She didn’t have time to throw up.

  But the stench was so foul she couldn’t control it. This time when she gagged, she leaned over and threw up.

  Her vomit splashed back up and spattered on her face.

  It had ricocheted off of whatever slimy substance she was half buried in. That was what smelled. It was some type of muddy substance that had her legs locked in place, only allowing her to twist at the waist.

  It was heavy and when she tried to move it felt like quicksand, although, thank God, it wasn’t sucking her under, just holding her immobile.

  She inhaled and the sound echoed. The only other sound she could make out was a faint echo of water dripping somewhere in the distance.

  As her thoughts became clearer, she felt panic threaten to overtake her.

  Calm. If she were going to escape she had to remain calm. Think.

  Then suddenly, she felt it. He didn’t register on any of her normal senses. She didn’t see him, smell him, feel him, or hear him. But he was there.

  The Sultan.

  Her head whipped from side to side but she could see nothing in the dark.

  A huge spotlight shone down on her.

  Blinking she looked up. She could see nothing except the light.

  “You have been spared for one reason and one reason only.”

  That voice.

  Terror streaked through her.

  A man so evil that she could feel him before he announced his presence. A voice laced with something unearthly.

  “Do you understand?”

  She nodded furiously.

  The light turned off.

  And then to her relief, the muck around her started to drain, making disgusting sucking sounds as it did.

  3

  Within seconds, Gia was outside.

  She put her arm around Rose. “How are you?”

  Rose shrugged. Tears pricked her eyes.

  “I miss my dad,” she said.

  “Me too,” Gia said and reached into her bag. She extracted a cigarette and offered the pack to Rose.

  “I thought you quit?” Rose said as she took one.

  “I did,” Gia said. “But I’ve been having a tough time. Who knew that everyone in Spain smoked. Plus, you know…”

  Nico. The stress.

  “Wasn’t there any way you could’ve brought him?” Rose asked.

  Gia lit her cigarette and Rose’s before exhaling and answering.


  “He’s really angry lately,” she said. “I talked to the nurses, and as much as I know you would’ve liked to have him here, I couldn’t help but worry he would start screaming and ruin everything for you. It was a tough decision. Even now, I don’t know what the right choice was.”

  Gia paused and shook her head.

  “I trust what you do,” Rose said, exhaling her own cigarette. She smoked so infrequently that the nicotine instantly made her feel buzzed and a little wobbly.

  Gia nodded slowly. “I wasn’t sure it was my decision to make. Maybe you would’ve wanted him here no matter what. But I couldn’t check with you since the whole thing was a surprise.”

  Rose leaned into Gia’s side. “It was such a great surprise,” she said.

  “Timothy wanted everything to be perfect,” Gia said.

  Rose looked down. “He’s a good friend,” she said.

  “Rose?” When she looked back up, Gia had that same smile still there. “When are you going to admit that it’s more than that?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Anyone with eyes can see he’s crazy about you.”

  Rose was silent for a minute and then said, “It would ruin everything.”

  “Would it?” Gia asked, giving Rose an intense look.

  Rose decided suddenly that the cigarette tasted awful. She stubbed it out and, like Timothy, picked it up and tossed it in the garbage can. As she did, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the restaurant’s massive front window.

  “I don’t know why he would think of me that way, anyway.” she said. “Obviously, I’ve got something wrong with me. I’m eighteen and have never had a boyfriend. No boy has even asked me out except for a couple weirdos.”

  “Did you ever think it’s because you’ve made yourself unapproachable.”

  Rose frowned. Was that true?

  “And,” Gia went on. “Did you ever think about why you might have made yourself unapproachable and whether it had anything to do with—”

  “So, how about that soccer team?” Rose interrupted. They both laughed.

  Gia stood beside her, and they both stared at their reflection. Gia brushed Rose’s long black hair off her shoulder. Rose had put on makeup for the dinner. Usually she couldn’t be bothered, but tonight she had lined her black eyes with liner and slicked on some pink lipstick. She didn’t use mascara because her eyelashes were already so thick and black that using it just made them look clumpy.

  “Look at you?” Gia said. “You’re stunning. You look like a young Penelope Cruz or Salma Hayek. But more important than that—you are smart and brave and kind and funny.”

  Rose shook her head.

  “Really,” Gia said. “Any boy would be crazy about you.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “But the real question is,” Gia said and paused, “whether you feel the same way about him.”

  Just then Dante and Wayne came outside, holding the door open.

  “Hey, you two! Eva is looking for you. She wants to make a toast,” Dante said.

  “And Timothy keeps staring at the door, waiting for you to come back in,” Wayne said.

  “See?” Gia said.

  “Stop!” Rose said with a laugh and then followed the others in.

  One by one, as the night grew longer, everybody said goodbye to Rose and left.

  Eva was staying across town with Alex in a luxury hotel.

  Dante and Wayne were staying at a hostel in the Gothic Quarter, not far from where Rose lived.

  Gia was going home to Nico. When she’d finally made the tough decision to live somewhere that would provide Nico with care, Gia found a place where they could live together. It was an apartment in a memory care facility with a sliding care level of nursing supervision. That way, as his condition worsened, he could receive more intensive care. For now, it allowed Gia to leave him alone at times, like tonight, without worrying. The building was secure so he couldn’t wander off and down the street if he got confused. It had happened once in the Gothic Quarter apartment and, after a frantic search, they found him near the marina on a stranger’s boat. The owner had called the police, who had called Gia.

  After that, she had moved them to the care facility.

  Rose had the Gothic Quarter apartment to herself for more than a year now. Django had lived with her until his death two months ago. She woke one morning to find him dead. She’d been inconsolable for two weeks. Timothy had rushed over and held her for hours while she sobbed. He rented a boat, and they sailed out to sea to dump the ashes. Gia let them go alone, even though technically Django had first been hers. At some point, Gia realized that Rose needed the dog more. Or maybe it had been Django who realized it? All Rose knew was that Django had always been there in her life. The only time they’d been apart was during the year she’d trained with Eva in Italy. And even then, she saw Django once a month.

  Every once in a while, especially with Django gone, the place felt too empty, but for the most part, Rose found she liked being alone. Gia had talked about getting Rose another dog and Rose had freaked out on her, saying Django could never be replaced. She felt bad after but was still adamant about not getting a new dog: why put herself through that heartache again?

  Gia still had a room and belongings at the apartment and sometimes came for a sleepover. They would drink wine and stay up watching movies. Gia was more of a friend than a mother sometimes.

  Now, standing in the cool night air, the longtime group of friends said their goodbyes in the doorway of the restaurant.

  They made plans to meet for brunch the next day before everyone headed home. Unfortunately, it was a quick trip for everyone. Mostly because Rose was scheduled to leave for Paris the next night. She was going to go stay with her best friend, Shaniqua, for a few weeks. Shaniqua was a top model and would be hitting the runway in the upcoming Fashion Week shows for Gucci.

  Dante and Wayne were going to Italy with Eva to stay for a few days and then also were heading to Paris for Fashion Week. Gia was going to meet them all in Paris. She hadn’t been away from Nico’s side for two years. Eva and Rose had insisted she go too. Nico was in good hands at the memory care facility.

  Gia was one of the last to leave. She kissed Rose on the cheek.

  “Happy birthday, Rosie,” she said in a soft voice.

  Besides her dad, Gia was the only one who still called her this. For some reason, it made her want to cry.

  Then Gia walked out, leaving Rose and Timothy sitting alone drinking the last of the wine.

  Timothy’s phone dinged. He looked at it, frowned, and then quickly set it down.

  For a second, Rose frowned. Was it a girl? Maybe that cute blonde from earlier. Timothy never really talked about his dating life after he had broken up with Karla.

  Rose didn’t mind. In fact, she was glad. She didn’t really want to think about it, but she understood that he was a hormonal teenage boy, and he needed sex. It was him falling in love that scared her. She couldn’t stand the thought of anyone taking him away from her.

  “I have a surprise for you,” Timothy said and then quickly looked down.

  “Another one?” Rose said in a teasing voice.

  He nodded and stood. “You ready?”

  She looked around. His father was in the kitchen, finishing closing up. They were the last ones in the restaurant. “Okay,” she said.

  He smiled and took her hand.

  4

  Every once in a while, she’d pass a face in the crowd that sent a streak of terror through her. Some big fatheaded man that reminded her of him. But she always shook it off straight away.

  The longer that she’d been away from the Sultan, the easier it was to forget that she’d made a dark promise to him. She’d vowed to do as he bid.

  He’d said that one day he would ask her to come back to him and serve him for all time.

  Of course, she’d agreed.

  At that point, she’d have said anything to get away fr
om him and out of that muddy graveyard. She’d learned later that the stench had been decomposing bodies just fucking floating around in the muck beside her. What the fuck?

  It still sent a shiver down her spine just thinking about, which she tried not to do.

  The only thing she vowed now in regards to the Sultan was to kill herself before she’d let him put her back into that pit.

  And she sure as hell wasn’t going to do his bidding.

  With time and distance between them, she wasn’t going to do shit, except stay far, far away from him.

  She had a new life now.

  She didn’t have to do anything that fucking insane fat monster said.

  He could come hunt her down. This time she’d be waiting for him.

  That long night in the dark damp foul hole seemed so long ago.

  He couldn’t possibly reach out and ruin her life now. Could he?

  Fuck him.

  5

  Rose wondered what the surprise was.

  They’d never held hands before. And yet it seemed natural. Maybe it was the wine she’d had.

  Instead of taking her someplace, Timothy walked her home.

  “This is my surprise?” she said, teasing, as she unlocked the door to her building.

  “Yes,” he said.

  “Okay.”

  He took her hand again and led her up the stairs. For some reason, she found it incredibly sexy that he was taking charge and leading her. Even thinking the word “sexy” in relation to her best friend made her flush with guilt. Her heart was racing a million miles a minute. Maybe the alcohol? Her cheeks felt hot, but that also could have been the wine.

  Instead of stopping at the fourth floor where her apartment was, Timothy kept going up. From there the stairs only led to the roof. She looked over and raised her eyebrow, and he gave her a small grin.

  The door to the roof, which was usually locked, was wide open.

  She’d never been on the roof.

  When they stepped out onto it, she gasped.

  There was a small metal café table set with candles and a bottle of wine with two glasses. The chairs had small fairy lights strung through the metal rungs.