Twelve of Roses

“Fuck you.” My response was based purely on instinct and the adrenaline pumping through my veins. I reached up and raked my nails down his face, digging in as hard as I could.

He shoved me away from him with an angry curse, making me choke from the force of his palm hitting my windpipe. Saliva dribbled down my chin as I spun around and crawled into the street. The second I was on my feet, there was a distinguishable click from behind me.

“Your grandpa’s sleeping right now. How easy would it be to put a bullet in your back and then pay him a visit?”

Would he actually shoot me? I couldn’t risk it. If I were taken out, that was one thing, but my grandfather was precious to me—I would never put him in harm’s way. Hadn’t I cheated death enough, anyway?

“Okay, I’m coming back,” I choked out on a mangled breath.

Slowly turning around, I took careful, measured steps back to the man I didn’t recognize until I was right in front of him. I braced myself for his brutality as I looked him in the eyes.

My heart skipped a beat when he approached and lifted a hand to my face. Instead of striking me again, he simply cupped my jaw.

“I should fuck your sweet ass right here and give you a reason to scream. Think Grandpa Earl would like that?” he mocked with a smile full of devilry. I swallowed audibly and shook my head slightly.

“Didn’t think so; get in the truck before someone sees us.”

I did as I was told, climbing in and praying to God I’d find a way out of this. Con climbed in the driver’s seat and wordlessly backed out of the driveway.

We rode away from my home, away from the only family I had left, straight towards a future as bleak and grim as my foolish heart.

Chapter Twelve

Past

He drove for hours, making me climb into the backseat and lie down whenever he needed to get gas.

By the time he stopped, the sky had long ago turned black and I knew we were far beyond Ponty-Poole. I woke up from an involuntary catnap just as he turned down a private grassy road.

As I readjusted in my seat, my bladder screamed, and my stomach roared. I peered out the window into the trees, seeing the faint distant glow of a fire. I glanced at the clock, counting how long it took him to make it down the road. Twelve minutes exactly.

“Planning an escape already?” he asked with ill-timed humor in his tone.

I didn’t bother giving him a response. Not even a minute later, he came to a stop in a small, circular clearing.

Looking to my left, I saw a square cabin that was moderate in size; to my right, a bonfire was raging, and people were sat around it on tree-stump benches.

“Where are we?” I asked daringly.

“Home,” was his blunt, monotonous response.

“Let’s go; they’ve been waiting for us.” He pushed his door open and got out, slamming it shut and walking away from me without a second glance.

Did he think I wouldn’t run?

No—he knew I wouldn’t. Not when his parting words were, they’ve been waiting for us. I had to know who he was referring to. Aside from that, the only things around me were eerie, naked trees. Running off into the wilderness without some idea of where I was would be incredibly stupid.

Since he’d brought me here, there was a high possibility that he knew these woods well.

Steeling myself for what I might witness, I got out of the truck and made my way in the direction Con had gone. Grass and leaves brushed against the bottom of my bare feet. The soft breeze was a stark reminder that the only thing covering my body was a simple, slightly torn T-shirt and his drawers.

As I got closer, the shapes became clearer and I had to blink to make sure I wasn’t seeing things. Molly sat between Justin and Darren, her pale face splotchy, her overall look disheveled. Wes, Darcy’s ex, sat in front of Vicky, who had a small knife pressed to his throat.

I picked my pace up, charging into the circle they all sat in.

“What is this?” I looked directly at Con, who had managed to take a seat and crack open a beer in the time it took me to get out of his truck.

“There’s my Rosie,” he announced proudly, smiling at me affectionately. The orange flames danced across his face and cast him as the devil. It was fitting for the role he was choosing to play.

“Come here.” He patted his leg, indicating where he wanted me.

I shot a quick look in Wes’ direction and silently made my way over to Con. None of the Burrows said a word, but their smug expressions spoke volumes. When I reached my destination, I sank down and sat on Con’s lap stiffly.