Page 128 of Roses Are Dead
“Beth asked me, no… told me that her dying wish is that you know everything about Rose so you can stop her from going back to Carl.” Tears collected in his eyes. “Beth’s dying. And—” his voice broke. He coughed to clear his throat before continuing. “And instead of letting Rose con her brother into saving her life, Beth asked me to beg you to save Rose’s.”
“But—”
“I know, my wife will die.”
“And you’re okay with that?” I wouldn’t be if it were my wife. If it were Rose. I blinked, shocked as all hell that I’d gone there.
John studied his toes. “If Rose goes back to Carl, he’ll kill her. I’m sure of that. And if Rose dies, Beth will, too. They’re too close for one of them to survive if the other doesn’t.”
John made certain his next words were clear and looked me square in the eye as he spoke. “I’m telling you this to save my wife. The cancer could kill Beth tomorrow or in a month, but a broken heart? That will kill her faster.”
His abrupt departure left me reeling.
I barely could breathe, let alone gather my emotions and thoughts into a coherent whole. John’s life was falling apart, and he dumped this shit on my plate.
I drove home replaying the echoes of dead conversations in my mind.
“The cancer could kill Beth tomorrow.”
“I’m not stupid. It’s right after Halloween.”
“It’s the day to celebrate the martyrs!”
Above my head, the sky turned turbulent. As if the Gods’ mood matched my own. I parked the bike inside the garage out of habit. The locked garage door snapped my attention to the present. I’d collect Rose, whether she wanted to come with me or not. We’d take the bike, hopefully dodging the impending rain, and get stuck at the clubhouse the entire night.
Tomorrow, I’d shut her inside Wolf’s office and put two prospects on her as guard.
Then I’d kill Carl.
With that plan firmly in place, I unlocked the door.
My first instinct was to search for Rose. But she stood in the center of the room. As if she’d been waiting for me.
Her backpack was in her hand.
“Cool, you’re ready. Let’s go.”
“I’m not going with you.”
John’s pleas echoed in my head on repeat. “Not an option.”
Rose’s face darkened. “Are you telling me what to do?”
“Damn straight I am. Come on. I’m going to be late for church.”
Her jaw worked. “Church,” she repeated.
“Yeah. Biker church. The best fucking kind of church and the only kind I’m ever going to force down your throat, got it?”
A flash of anger lit her eyes and tightened in her jawline. “No.”
“Fine. We’ll take the truck and I’ll carry your damn ass to it.”
She whipped out her dagger and held it like she knew what she was doing. I hesitated.
“Put that away.”
“No.”
