Page 129 of Pretty Little Threats

It’s beena little over a week since I last saw Rose. Our fight plays over and over in my mind. It haunts my nights, lingers at the edges of my mind when I should be focusing on work. Every meal I take alone reminds me of Rose. The way her nose would wrinkle when she laughed. Every time I climb into bed and roll over to stare at her side, loneliness burrows into me. Not having her around tears me up inside, but it has to be this way.

My fist connects with Crue’s gut, and he grunts, bowling over as the airwhooshesout of him. I retreat to my side of the boxing ring and wait for him to recover. Crue’s black hair hangs in his face as he side-eyes me.

“Fuck.” He groans and straightens.

The only woman I’ve ever loved was never mine. I thought I could hold her in my grasp, but holding on to Rose was like trying to cup water in my hands. There are too many cracks and crevices. Too many means of escape.

“Who pissed you off?” he asks.

“No one.”

Crue rubs his arm over his forehead. “Bullshit.”

I forgot I had a family to keep safe. I thought by making her leave, I could salvage the wreckage, claw my way back to the man I was before I met her, the unfeeling Beast of NYC. But she took the remnants of my tattered soul with her when she left, leaving nothing but cold fury behind.

He falls into his fighting stance, ready for more. “You’re wasting time,” he taunts.

Shaking my head, I take a breath, then head over.She’s taking over your thoughts again.

With my hands guarding my face, I look him over, searching for a weakness. His chest is heaving. His legs are set perfectly.

“What’s the matter, Dare? The wife not putting out?”

The muscles in my face tightening, I test a jab, but Crue slips away.

“Ah, so it is the wife.” His stupid grin makes me want to kick him in the nuts. Let him think what he wants.

He’s half right. Crue knows I have sisters. They’re safe and, aside from a few scrapes and bruises, they’re healthy. By now, Gregory’s already moved them to a new city and a new apartment. We agreed that we wouldn’t talk until Gregory was sure they were safe.

I haven’t talked to my sisters, and it’s eating me up inside.

But Crue doesn’t pry about my family. I think that’s part of why I like him. He doesn’t try to dig into the past. I probably never would have become friends with him if he asked too many questions.

Aside from Remy, Crue and Mace are the closest friends I have. Crue and Remy know me better than anyone else, but they can’t replace Rose.

We trade a few blows, both of us blocking and avoiding. We dance around each other, but we’ve fought together for so long, it’s hard to get an advantage.

“That’s what happens when you get married, baby. Shit gets real and your dick stays dry.”

For once, I wish I had a little bit of his playboy persona. I don’t feel proud that Rose is at her home. I don’t like that she was crying. I hate not knowing what she’s doing. That’s why I sent Remy to watch her, to see what her next move would be.

To my surprise, she didn’t run to Daddy right away.

She went to see Irene.

She had some visitors.

And she hasn’t left her house since.

Crue sighs. “Maybe I should pay her a visit.”

With a blink, I see red, but Crue keeps talking.

“That thick body in that little swimsuit?” He licks his lips and smirks. “That ass?”

I advance on him, my entire body tight with tension. I’m going to fucking kill him.

“Damn, dude, she was fine as fu?—”

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