Page 91 of My Rose

He nodded, glancing at the door once more before staring down at his lap. “I thought we were going to have a simple talk with your mom. I thought he was going to make light jokes as he introduced himself like other parents did when they heard their kids were infatuated. You know, small town, friendly things. But, when we pulled up to your house, he told me to stay in the car.” His hands twisted in his lap, his knuckles turning white with the force. “Minutes later, I heard gunshots, and then your house burst into flames all along the back. My father came running out no more than a minute later and sped away without saying a word. I remember trying to leave the car, trying to roll the window down to jump out, all while he threatened me and told me if I ever spoke a word of what we did, he’d kill me like he did you and your family.”

A lump formed in my throat, tears streaking my cheeks as that night flashed through my mind. The grandfather clock, the flames tearing into my side, waking up in the hospital, unable to speak, feeling blank and listless.

“I remember sobbing so much that my father slapped me and locked me in my room, forcing my brother to sleep in a guest room for a few nights until I could calm down.” His chest expanded on a ragged breath as his hands slid down his face. “I didn’t calm down until I knew you were alive. Until I knew you’d made it out somehow. When I got older, I hired people to follow you because I wanted to make sure you were safe. My father never knew you made it out of there alive, and if he did, then he must’ve lost interest in finding you and killing you. That’s why I told him you were nothing to me when he came into my room that day. That’s why I got mad atthe party when Clarissa asked for your name, and you gave it to her, not knowing how big Clarissa’s mouth was and the fact that she’d use anything to leverage getting me back. I realized then how careless it had been to get close to you, but I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t stay away from you. And then I fell in love with you.” My heart seized, my ribs caging it from exploding into a million pieces. “I fell in love with you, and now I can’t picture my life, any life, without you.”

I wasn’t sure what to do as my chest caved with the weight of his guilt, so I let my body do the talking. I moved to straddle him, allowing the blanket to fall and drape around us. His brows furrowed in confusion, mirroring my own, but one thing I knew for certain was that none of what he just admitted changed the fact that I fell in love with him just like he did me. “That rose on your chest”—my fingers moved to his forearms, tracing the thorny vines that wove in and out of the rest of his tattoos—“isn’t the only tattoo you got for me, is it?”

“No.” His hand took mine, our fingers tracing the vine together. He sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth as they reached higher, disappearing under another tattoo before reappearing around the clock on the back of his bicep.

He raised his arm, letting me look closer as we continued to trace together. “They…they twist around the clock?” I whispered my question as I tried to piece that part together. The framing of the clock appeared to be melting, but there were pieces where lines twisted together, thorns no longer on the vine but reappearing once more as they snaked up along his shoulder and his back, then finally,ended where a beautiful rose now bloomed, full of life and color. “Is it melting because of the fire?”

“Yes, Rose.”

“And the thorns—they aren’t there because that was a time before your guilt was too much? This is us up until the day it wasn’t anymore, right?” He gave a single nod. His poetry didn’t stop with his journals. Briggs’ skin was covered in it—beautiful images portraying his life as he lived it. The pain, the torture, the love, the loss—all there for anyone to see, but no one cared to notice.

“You were once my pain, my agony, the greatest thorn to pierce my flesh. But now, you are my soul, my reason, the most devastating love I could ever imagine. You have been my life’s greatest obsession and my heart’s greatest weakness, and I wanted you visibly carved into me just as badly as you have invisibly woven your way beneath my skin.”

“Oh, Briggs.” I held his face in my palms and kissed the tip of his nose, then pressed my forehead to his. “It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t do the things he did. You were a young boy who got stuck in a bad situation and was threatened to keep it all a secret. But the secrets have to end. I won’t run from you because I fell in love with you, too. Your secrets are safe with me, and I won’t turn my back on you because, as much as I probably shouldn’t, none of it changes how much I love you and still want you.”

His mother may have left his father and abandoned them in the process, probably because she discovered all the shady crap his father did and how vile he really was, and at some point, Briggs’ admission of who killed my parents would sink in further and eat at mysubconscious until something was done. But for now, all I felt was the guilt that must’ve weighed on Briggs’ shoulders like his Atlas tattoo suggested, trying to survive in a world he wanted no part in. He consumed himself in guilt and tragedy by putting himself in the same boat as the man who murdered my parents. But Briggs wasn’t his father.

“There’s one more thing I have to tell you.”

I smoothed his stubble with my thumbs. “Tell me.”

“This house—it’s ours. Well, yours, really, but I was hoping you’d let me stay.”

I pulled back from him as his hands smoothed over my parted thighs. “I’m not understanding.”

“You remember that house you and your grandfather went to go look at—the one you were going to rent?”

“The one Iamrenting, you mean. I’m supposed to move in after Christmas.” I studied him as a smile grew on his face. “You followed me there, too?”

“No. Didn’t have to. I own that house. But those papers you signed were an agreement to let me sign this house over to you.” His hands trailed up to my hips, then my waist. “You asked if something was broken in this house, and I couldn’t deny that because it had felt broken without you in it. So, the day I took you to the lake, I made a few phone calls. My father thinks I got rid of this house a long time ago, but I never could let it go. Instead, I turned it into our future.”

“You were banking on me falling in love with you, weren’t you?”

“When you don’t have much going for your future and spend years dreading it, then find the one thing that turns that all around…yeah. I was definitely banking on it.”

I looked around the room left untouched. “What did you do to it?”

“Renovated the living spaces and our bedroom, the exterior has been stripped and redone—or, mostly—and added things to make it function completely off-grid. We have no neighbors close by, and also now have a better security system than the White House.”

“The White House has personnel guarding the perimeter and the inside,” I pointed out, then leaned back to look through the window, seeing nothing beyond the trees and driveway.

“Sure does,” he agreed, grinning back at me. “There’s at least a dozen security personnel scattered throughout the land. For now, at least.”

“Briggs…I don’t know if I can live with people watching me every day, all day long. How am I supposed to finish school?”

“Your school is about an hour from here, but I can drive you there when you have classes, or you can take whatever car you want from the garage, and someone will drive behind you to make sure you’re safe. And when you’re ready to get a job at a museum—if you still want to work, of course, you don’t reallyneedto—”

I lightly punched his arm right over one of his Latin quotes. “I’m working.”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t surprise me, my little viper.” He kissed my jaw, brushing some of my hair away from my face. “I’ve already talked to the director at The Met. He’s very interested in you andyour passion for Greek and Roman artifacts. They were actually looking for a specialist when I called.”

I froze as his thumb trailed over my bottom lip. “You can’t be serious.”

He reached back down and gripped my ass, making me gasp. “Deadly serious, Rose.”

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