Craving Rose Read online

  Muscle memory is a funny thing. When you think you need it, you can’t remember what the hell you’re doing. But when you don’t think about what you’re doing, your body just goes through the motions it’s done a thousand times. That’s what happened as I rested my foot on the gas pedal, tore at the plastic beneath the steering wheel and yanked out wires beneath. As soon as I’d found the group I needed, I frantically used my teeth to strip the ignition and battery wires, then twisted them together.

  I glanced up in fear as I heard the other man come outside and start yelling, but my hands didn’t pause. Sparking the battery wires against the starter wire, I pushed down on the gas pedal and started the car. Throwing it into reverse, I screamed as the man reached for my door handle.

  I shoved my foot against the gas pedal just as his hand came up and I saw the gun he pointed at my face. Ducking down as far as I could, I shoved the gear shift into drive. Gravel flew as I peeled out, flying down the long gravel driveway, and I kept my head down as I raced toward the main road.

  I sobbed in relief when I realized that I recognized the strip of deserted highway. If I turned right, I was only a couple miles from the swimming hole we’d gone to since we were kids. Left would take me straight back to the clubhouse.

  I knew these roads. I’d learned to drive on them. I pressed the gas pedal against the floorboard and barely let up as I hit the first corner. Tires squealed as I straightened the car out, but I didn’t slow down.

  My hands slipped over the steering wheel, slick from the blood dripping down my arm. Blinking against the sweat and tears that burned my eyes, I leaned forward and took the next curve too fast, but I refused to hit the brakes. Steering out of the skid, I kept going. I looked both ways and blew through a stop sign, and then another.

  “Oh, God,” I whispered, praying that I could make the car go faster. “Please. Please.”

  Every second it took to get to the compound was agony, and when I saw the familiar turn and the large gate that blocked the driveway, I sobbed in relief. I was almost there.

  I slid into the gravel and barely glanced at the prospects guarding the gate before I plowed right through it, the large latch shattering the windshield as the entire gate flew up against the car, catching for a moment before it flew off behind me.

  Within seconds I was in the forecourt, slamming the gearshift into park as I tumbled out of the car.

  “What the fuck?” someone yelled as a wave of men ran toward me.

  “Rose?” my dad thundered, sprinting toward me. “Thank Christ!”

  “Daddy,” I called, stumbling forward.

  “I got you,” he said as he reached me, pulling me tight against his chest. “You’re okay, I got you.”

  “I left him there,” I sobbed, the weight of that truth so heavy I didn’t know if I could bear it. “We have to go back. We have to go now.”

  Chapter 1

  Rose

  I stood at the counter and watched as the man I loved slid a backpack full of clothes onto his shoulder.

  “You said you loved me,” I choked out, staring at Copper in confusion. “What are you doing?”

  “I do love you.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “I do.”

  My stomach twisted painfully. “You don’t do this to people you love. You don’t just end things.”

  “It’s just not working out,” he replied, leaning against the doorframe.

  “I know we haven’t been getting along, I—”

  “We’re not compatible,” he said flatly, cutting me off.

  “That’s bullshit,” I replied, anxiety making my voice falter. “That’s not a real thing. When you make a commitment, you figure it out. You find a way to move past the hard parts.”

  “I don’t want the hard parts,” he said flatly. “Life’s too fucking short.”

  “Then we’ll talk it out,” I stuttered. “We’ll make it so it’s not hard.”

  “You’re condescending,” he said, in frustration. “You think you’re better than everyone. You talk to me like I’m less than you.”

  “I don’t think you’re less than me,” I said in horror, my eyes starting to water.

  “You give me the cold shoulder when you’re pissed. And if I say anything about it, you won’t touch me for a week.” He scoffed. “I told you not to use sex as a weapon, and sure as shit, you cut me off when you’re pissed about something.”

  “That’s not even a thing,” I ground out, my cheeks growing hot. “That’s a myth perpetuated by men. Women like to be taken care of outside of bed and if that doesn’t happen, they’re not interested in climbing into bed.”

  “Spin it however you want,” he said derisively. “I told you not to do that shit and you did it, anyway. I’m done.”

  “That’s not even how it was,” I argued, frustration making my voice quiver.

  “You’re mean,” he said flatly. “You’re a mean person.”

  “Please,” I said, hating myself for the pleading tone of my voice. I wasn’t mean, was I? Sarcastic, yes. But mean? I swallowed hard. “Please, if you love me, then we can work this out.”

  “There’s nothing to work out,” he replied. He stuffed his hands into his pockets.

  “I thought we would get married,” I whispered pathetically.

  “You actually think you deserve a proposal?” he asked incredulously, the words so awful and shocking that I took an involuntary step backward.

  “Then don’t say that you love me. Stop saying it,” I said as he turned away, my voice breaking. “Because you don’t.”

  “Don’t tell me how I feel,” he snapped back, not even bothering to look at me. “And I’ll say whatever the fuck I want.”

  It would’ve been easier if he’d slammed the door behind him when he left. I could’ve pretended that he would cool down and come back later. The quiet snick of the door latch was infinitely worse. It said that he was totally calm, and thoroughly finished.

  A slightly hysterical laugh shot out of my mouth and I slapped my hand over my lips. What the hell had just happened? What in the actual fuck?

  Jesus, I’d thought I was going to marry him.

  I gasped for air as the full reality of the situation hit me. He was gone. He left and I knew, deep in my gut, that he wouldn’t be back. Bracing my hands on the counter, I struggled to take a deep breath.

  I’d never be able to touch him again. I’d never wake up to find him beside me. I’d never get a secret smile across the room, like an inside joke that only we knew. I’d never cook his favorite meals or hear about his day. He’d never again whisper that he loved me and kiss me goodbye before leaving for work.

  I closed my eyes as my entire chest tightened. Oh, God, I’d thought I was going to marry him and he didn’t even like me.

  I let the tears roll down my cheeks and plop against the counter as I called myself every kind of idiot. Once again, I’d believed in a promise from someone that didn’t deserve my trust, and once again, I’d been burned.

  I’d known it wasn’t a good idea to get involved. I’d known that I was going to get my heart broken, again, but I’d jumped in with both feet, anyway. I couldn’t seem to give up on the elusive happily ever after. It always felt right out of my reach.

  I pushed off the counter and wiped my hands down my face. I wasn’t going to fall apart. I wouldn’t let myself. At least not in the middle of the kitchen.

  Grabbing the clothes I’d left sitting on a chair when Copper dropped his bomb, I headed toward the bathroom for a shower. Leave it to me to get dumped on the day of my only niece’s birthday party.

  * * *

  “What do you mean, he dumped you?” my cousin Lily hissed later that day as she helped me fill water balloons.

  “He said he was done,” I replied, barely glancing at her as I continued what I was doing. “And then he left.”

  “Oh, my God,” she said indignantly. “What an asshole.”

  “It is what it is,” I mumbled, se
cretly thankful for her support.

  “He’ll come back with his tail between his legs, just like they all do,” she said, handing me another bunch of balloons. Then a few seconds later, “Do you want him to come back?”

  I’d been running that scene in the kitchen over and over again in my head all day, observing it from different angles and asking myself the same question.

  “He doesn’t like me,” I replied quietly, shrugging as I met her eyes for a moment. “It’s not even that he’s angry or that he left. Either of those two things would hurt my feelings, but I could forgive him. But he really doesn’t like me.”

  “He’s a dick,” she snapped.

  “That doesn’t make him a dick,” I replied. “It’s just a fact. He doesn’t like me. You can’t help who you like and who you don’t. It just is.”

  “And he couldn’t have figured that out five months ago?” she asked. “Before he practically moved into your house?”

  “It hurts,” I mumbled, almost embarrassed at the admission. “But it also kind of helps.”

  “How is that?” she asked, jerking back as the water spigot sprayed us a little while I struggled to wrap a water balloon around it.

  “When I think about the what ifs, I remind myself that he doesn’t like me,” I replied. “He genuinely doesn’t like me as a person. So there’s nothing I could’ve done differently. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “Of course you didn’t do anything wrong,” she said softly, bumping me with her shoulder. “And I like you.”

  “I like me, too,” I said simply.

  “What’s taking you so long?” my niece Rebel yelled as she came up behind us. “Dad’s team is winning because we’re out of ammunition!”

  “God forbid,” I replied, gasping dramatically as I handed her a couple of full balloons. “You can have those, but only if one of them flies straight toward your Uncle Tommy.”

  “But Uncle Tommy isn’t playing,” she replied in confusion, trying to hand one of the balloons back.

  “He is now,” I said, winking at her.

  I grinned as she raised her eyebrows and nodded.

  “He’s going to kill you,” Lily said as Rebel ran away. “You won’t escape the water balloon war now.”

  “Worth it,” I muttered. I looked over at her and lifted up the bucket of full balloons. “Man the battle stations,” I said seriously.

  “Aw, shit,” she whined, jumping to her feet. “We’re going to need some cover.”

  A few minutes later, we’d constructed a barricade out of lawn chairs just far enough from the spigot that we could attack anyone trying to reload.

  “This was a horrible idea,” Lily screeched as a water balloon exploded against her chest. “Do you know how long it took me to iron my hair?”

  “Should’ve never cut it,” I shot back, leaning around the edge of the chairs so I could lob a balloon at my oldest brother Will. “Then you could’ve braided it.”

  “I thought you liked my hair?” she shot back, handing me another balloon.

  “I do like it,” I replied, throwing the balloon at the ground in front of the little person running toward our encampment. It exploded when it made contact and Lily’s stepson Gray squealed happily. “You’re the one bitching about how long it takes to style it.”

  “I wasn’t bitching,” she bitched. “Ceasefire!”

  I leaned back on my heels as Gray slid behind the barricade.

  “Are you coming to help us?” I asked, wiggling my eyebrows.

  “No,” he replied, a sly grin pulling at his lips. Before I could stop him, he threw balloons at both Lily and I. We were in such close quarters that the balloons bounced right off us and landed on the ground, but Lily still screeched indignantly.

  “You little sneak!” she yelled, chasing him as he ran away. “No ice cream for a month!”

  Gray giggled as he sprinted across the yard toward his dad. Leo was laughing his ass off and I was pretty sure I knew exactly who’d given Gray those balloons.

  “You’re about to be overrun,” a voice yelled from behind me. I jerked my head back toward the spigot and my eyes widened in horror as I realized that Gray had been all the distraction my brother Tommy had needed to keep me occupied while he connected the hose.

  “Oh, shit,” I yelped, scrambling out of my spot. I grabbed my rescuer’s hand and we sprinted across the yard as the cold water sprayed against our backs. By the time we’d reached my parents, I was laughing and gasping and I could feel water running down the backs of my thighs.

  “When did you get here?” I asked Kara as I let go of her hand.

  “Right before Tommy won the war,” she replied, wrinkling her nose.

  “Only the battle, toots,” I said with a laugh, throwing my arm over her shoulder. “I’ll get him later.”

  “Hi, Kara!” Rebel yelled excitedly, running toward us. “It’s my birthday!”

  “I know,” Kara replied, grinning as Rebel pulled her into an exuberant hug. “That’s why we’re here.”

  “You came for my birthday?” Rebel asked, pulling back to look into Kara’s eyes. “You’re the best!”

  “I brought you a present, too,” Kara said conspiratorially as Rebel hugged her again.

  “Let’s go get it,” Rebel said, putting her hand in Kara’s.

  I smiled as they crossed the yard. Rebel and Kara were only months apart, but their personalities couldn’t be more different. My niece had Down syndrome, which meant she was delayed in some ways, and I swore made her more advanced in other areas. As far as I was concerned, who cared if she ever learned algebra? Reb was the most empathetic, loving, and genuinely happy person I’d ever met, and those traits were far more important in the grander scheme of things.

  “If you think I’m done, you’re sadly mistaken,” my brother Tommy said casually as he came up beside me.

  Glancing to the side, I burst out laughing. His entire chest was soaked.

  “Don’t be a whiner,” I replied, elbowing him as we walked toward the barbeque.

  “Me and Heather have plans after this, ass,” he grumbled.

  “You’ll dry.”

  “What happened to you two?” Kara’s dad Mack asked as we reached him and Will.

  “Water balloon war,” we both replied at the same time. “Jinx.”

  “Looks like Tommy won,” Will said with a chuckle.

  “He used the hose!” I griped.

  “Don’t pout because I’m smarter than you,” Tommy replied.

  “I’m not a cheater.”

  “Who’s a cheater?” my cousin Cam asked as he joined us. His eyes widened as he took us in. “Oh, shit.”

  “Should’ve taken your shirt off first,” Will said, pointing to his own bare chest.

  “I would’ve, if your kid had given me some warning before she hit me with a water balloon.”

  “That’s my girl,” Will said in satisfaction.

  “Glad I missed it,” Mack said with a laugh.

  “Oh, it’s not over,” I muttered darkly.

  He winked at me and I felt my cheeks heat. Jesus. He was the only guy I’d ever met that could make me blush, and he’d never even made a pass at me.

  “I’m going to see if Moll needs help,” I said, spinning before my brothers could see my reaction.

  “Get me a beer,” Will called out.

  “Get your own beer,” I called back, flipping him off over my shoulder.

  “Classy, Rose,” my mom called sarcastically.

  “I do my best,” I yelled back as I pushed in the back door of my brother’s house. He and Molly had bought a small, two-story house near my parents’ place a few years ago, but it was still a work in progress. With Tommy’s help, they’d refinished the wood floors and replaced all the windows, but they were still gradually working on the smaller things. Currently, none of their kitchen cupboards had doors.

  “Need any help?” I asked, Heather and Molly turning toward me in surprise.

  Cam’s wif
e Trix didn’t even bother turning around. “Mack’s out there, isn’t he?” she said, dryly.

  “Shut it,” I snapped. Heather laughed.

  “I don’t know why you avoid him,” she said. “He’s awesome.”

  “I never said he wasn’t.”

  “She’s got a crush,” Trix said, laughter in her voice.

  “I’m not fourteen,” I replied, moving further into the kitchen.

  “Then stop acting like it,” she shot back.

  “I’m glad they came,” Molly said, looking out the window. “Reb is probably giddy.”

  “She was pretty excited,” I replied, reaching for a bowl covered in tin foil. “She and Kara were going to find the present they brought her.”

  “Kara’s a sweetheart,” Molly said, smiling. “Reb says she’s her best friend.”

  “Cute,” Heather said, grinning.

  “Yeah,” Molly agreed. “She doesn’t have many friends her own age.”

  “Charlie and the boys,” Trix pointed out.

  “They’re family,” Molly said. “It doesn’t count.”

  “Wrong,” I replied. “Lily’s my best friend.”

  “You two might as well be twins,” Heather said with a guffaw. “She has to love you.”

  “Hey!” I snapped, throwing a cherry tomato at her.

  “Not in my kitchen!” Molly yelled, stepping in between us as she threw her arms up in the air.

  “Yes, Mother!” Heather sang. “I’m going out to hang with my husband.”

  “It’s so weird when you say that,” I said when she bumped into me as she passed.

  “You were at the wedding,” she said dryly.

  “Yeah, but then you guys did that weird thing where you pretended you weren’t married for like, ever.”

  “We started again,” she said dreamily, clasping her hands under her chin. “And kept the magic alive.”

  “You’re losers,” I said, throwing another tomato at her.

  “Rose Hawthorne!” Molly screeched as Heather hurried out the doorway.