Page 65 of Roses Are Dead
I was not jealous. At least it sounded that way in my head. But the growl in my tone spoke a different story.
He heard it, too. “She was there that night Sketch’s girl got kidnapped.”
This was confirmation of what Carl hinted at. Although I expected that hadn’t been the first time she’d hidden behind his couch. “And?”
“And, she’s cool. She’s not going rat us out for it.”
“How do you know that?”
He sat up again. “Because when I protected her last night, it clicked.”
My fist stayed at my side. “What clicked?”
He grinned, his eyes dipping to the hand I’d clenched too tightly. Then he tapped his head. “It clicked in her head. That we’re the good bad guys.”
Considering my treatment of her, KC was delusional. Or maybe she’d only relegated that status for him.
Which was how it should be. This thing between us was temporary. I only needed to keep her safe and relatively happy for a month. Then she’d be free. “Speak for yourself.” I slapped his head to knock some sense into it.
KC laughed. “Come on, man. Deep down, you’d like her to think that about you, too. Wouldn’t you?”
“That’s never gonna happen.” Because I was the bad guy here. Like an idiot, I’d walked right into Carl’s trap. And there was no way to extricate my foot from it. Roishin should hate me. It would be better for us all if she did.
Because, if she liked me, Carl would use that to hurt her.
15
Roishin
“When does the fun begin?”
I didn’t recognize the man asking. And, he didn’t have the telltale vest the Destroyers and their counterparts wore. But something about his voice was familiar. And because of that, he had my attention.
“Well?” His eyes dipped to my leather riding gear, which I hadn’t had the luxury of changing from since yesterday. My braids were stiff from the cold ride of the day before, and the wet ride of today. Any makeup I’d tried to apply had smudged from smokey-eye to trash panda chic.
I said the two magic words that might get his eyes unglued from my tits. “I’m Bear’s.” It didn’t work last night, and it certainly didn’t work on this guy.
He hovered over the chair I’d claimed in the corner because Bear had abandoned me to stand outside, in front of the bar where everyone could see him as he drowned in the cold, misty air like an idiot. I was so over being cold. Finally, he said, “No, you ain’t.”
Did I need to say it louder? I opted to ignore him instead.
“You’re Carl’s.” His eyes trailed down a braid that had escaped the hasty knot I’d made. “No one else has that long of hair. Nice trick with the make-up. I almost didn’t recognize you.”
His eyes locked on mine.
His were bloodshot and dilated. “You’re one of Carl’s dealers.” An assumption that was statistically possible.
He squinted but didn’t deny it. “My name’s Fish. I’m going to be a Destroyer.”
Nice to know.
“And when I am, you’re going to suck my cock.”
I’d rather not. “Did you know the Nile is over four thousand miles long? And that’s about as far as you’ll have to travel to hide from Bear when you attempt your little fantasy.”
“Bullshit. I know you’re only on loan to Bear. And you ain’t his ol’ lady. You’re fair game in another month.”
My heart rate picked up. Carl must have yapped to him. Or perhaps Bear or one of his brothers had. My jacket didn’t have the magic ‘stay away’ lettering Kate or Danielle’s had. It had no markings at all. And I’d quickly realized that this meant I was a target for just about any asshole who didn’t pay attention—unless of course, you were Tits, and wore your own colors. I let the silence grow uncomfortable as I plotted avenues of escape.
