Fight Dirty (Black Rose Kisses 1)

After a moment, Rory shrugs, and I turn on my heel and head back up the stairs. None of them try to stop me, and I can hear the sound of them talking in the kitchen as I take the stairs two at a time to get back to my room and close the door behind me.

I undress and shower, washing the day off me, but it’s not like it goes away. The suds swirl down the drain, and I dry off and pull on clothes to sleep in, but my mind is still going a mile a minute.

I’m worried about my dad. Worried about whatever it is that the Black Roses want him to do, and even more worried about what will happen if he can’t do it.

I’m also super conscious of the three guys who are presumably still downstairs in the kitchen. Even with a whole floor between us, I can’t get them out of my mind.

They’ve all gotten under my skin, albeit for very different reasons, and I find myself dreading having to face them in the morning—and for however many days after that until my dad pays off his debt.

Despite the longer shower, my thoughts haven’t settled at all as I turn off the light and crawl into the unfamiliar bed.

The mattress is comfortable, and the pillows are plush, but no matter how long I toss and turn, I can’t get to sleep.

5

I must have dozed off sometime in the early hours of the morning, because I wake up with the sun streaming into the room, sprawled out on the bed.

Clearly, I kicked the covers off at some point in the night because they’re bunched at the foot of the bed, half hanging down to the floor.

I lie there for a second, letting the events of the night come back to me.

Fuck. It all really happened.

It’s all real, and not some kind of messed up bad dream. It feels silly to admit, but a part of me definitely hoped that I would wake up back in my creaky old bed at Dad’s house, and none of this would have happened. Like a nightmare fading away when you wake up and realize it’s not something you have to deal with in real life.

No such luck.

I blink slowly, trying to will my hazy, half-asleep brain to come back online, when the reality of the situation asserts itself once more in the form of the bedroom door opening and Rory walking right into the room.

He stops in the doorway, and I can feel his gaze raking over me.

I’m just in a tank top and panties, the way I usually sleep, and he’s getting a fucking eyeful.

Rory whistles, low and amused, and I spring out of bed, suddenly wide awake. My beat-up old suitcase is open right next to the bed. I reach for the first thing I can get my hands on, a shoe, and chuck it at him, going for another when he ducks the first, laughing.

“Get the fuck out!” I snap, and he obeys, still cackling like an idiot as he closes the door behind him.

Furious, I throw on clothes, barely paying attention to what I’m yanking on, and march down the stairs just a moment later.

All three of the guys are in the kitchen, drinking coffee and lounging against the counters like apex predators, and I stop in the doorway, hands balled into fists.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I demand. “Just because I’m stuck living with you, that doesn’t mean I’m your fucking property. I knew the Black Roses were into some shit, but I didn’t think you were that shady. Are you dealing in human trafficking now? Finding sex slaves or whatever-the-fuck that you can do whatever you want with?”

I’m breathing hard, eyes narrowed as fury courses through me, and Rory is still fucking laughing. Levi’s eyebrows are in his hairline, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he looks impressed with the force of my rant.

Sloan just looks pissed, but I haven’t seen a different facial expression on him yet.

As if he can sense me thinking of him, the blond man pushes away from the counter, setting his cup down before stalking over to me and getting in my face. “You should consider yourself fucking lucky to be stuck living with us,” he snaps, brow furrowed and steely gray eyes narrowed to match mine. It’s impossible to miss the way he emphasizes the word living. “Shit could have turned out way worse for you and your father.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I snap right back, rage making me reckless.

I know exactly what he means, but I don’t want to admit it. I don’t want him to think I’m intimidated by him for a second, even if he is taller and broader than me, like he’s made of pure fucking muscle.

Instead of answering me, he just shakes his head, and I huff, my anger climbing. “My dad could fucking take you,” I spit out. “I could fucking take you.”

Sloan snorts, and it’s a dismissive sound. “Trust me, princess, the only way you’d get me on my back is if I’ve got my cock inside you.”

Before I get a chance to tell him to shove his cock up his own ass, he stalks past me out of the kitchen and disappears into the rest of the house, leaving me with Levi and Rory. My hands are balled up into fists, and my jaw is clenched so hard I swear I’m about to crack a fucking tooth.