Fight Dirty (Black Rose Kisses 1)

On Tuesday morning, Levi drives me to school again. I notice as we’re sliding into his car that my bike is parked off to one side of the garage, and my eyebrows rise a little. He said something about having someone stop by to get it from Dad’s house, but I didn’t really think he’d follow through on that.

I also don’t quite get why he bothered to have it brought over when it seems like the guys don’t plan on letting me go anywhere unattended.

Either way, I’m grateful to see it here, although there’s no way I’d go so far as to thank him or either of his two friends. Having my bike delivered is a nice gesture, but one nice gesture doesn’t negate the fact that these men are holding me as a glorified hostage.

When we reach the community college, Levi escorts me around campus just like he did yesterday. Part of me hopes he’ll get busted for loitering if he seriously plans on doing this every day, but I doubt there’s much chance of that. He blends in too well with the other students. Even though I know he doesn’t belong here, there’s nothing about the way he looks that would make an outside observer suspicious of him.

We eat lunch together again, and we end up talking because sitting in silence is too damn awkward. He’s surprisingly easy to talk to. He doesn’t have the same easygoing flirtatiousness of Rory, but he’s not as stoic and closed off as Sloan either. He’s somewhere in between the two, friendly when he wants to be and quiet the rest of the time.

Honestly, it’s his moments of quiet that draw me in more than they should—that feeling that there’s more to him than meets the eye, parts of himself he doesn’t share with most people. Even his brother’s death is something I don’t think he talks about much, and I get the feeling it means something that he told me.

After we get back in the late afternoon, I spend some time up in my room, half-heartedly poring over homework. It’s not really like me to get ahead on studying. I tend to be more the type who’s motivated by last-minute panic, so I do a lot of cramming and writing papers at zero hour. But right now, I’ll do anything to keep my mind occupied and help pass the time.

Around eight o’clock, my stomach starts growling aggressively, and I flip my textbook closed and climb off the bed.

When we got back to the house yesterday, there were grocery bags on the breakfast bar, filled with the random assortment of things that I asked Rory to get. On the counter in front of them was a note that read: Enjoy, princess.

I rolled my eyes so hard I swear I strained something. He had to know I was just fucking with him by asking for all that random crap, but of course he bought it anyway, fucking with me right back.

He came into the kitchen later that evening while I was poking around for something to make and grinned when he saw me with my head in the fridge.

“What culinary delights are you going to whip up tonight?” he asked, amusement lacing his tone. “I have to admit, I’m interested to see what you’re planning to make with all those things you had me buy. I didn’t take you for having such an eclectic palate.”

I gritted my teeth and fought back the urge to tell him to go fuck himself. He was toying with me, clearly, his bright grin never slipping. But there was something like a challenge in his eyes too. If I admitted I wasn’t going to eat any of it, it would’ve given him the upper hand to call me ungrateful or call my bluff, and there was no way I was going to give him the fucking satisfaction.

“I haven’t decided yet,” I replied airily, pulling the gochujang from the fridge and debating before grabbing some chicken to go with it. “I’ll work it out.”

His smile didn’t waver even a little. “Oh good. I’d hate for it all to go to waste.”

His grin was so irritating, jus

t like him, as he stood there watching me stumble through making something that resembled a stir fry with some of the ingredients he’d picked up.

In the end, it didn’t actually turn out too bad. It was edible, anyway, which was all I was going for. There was a satisfied look on Rory’s face as he watched me load up my plate. When I offered him some, he just laughed and headed out of the kitchen.

Fucker.

Tonight, there’s no way I’m going to attempt to use any of the other random ingredients he bought for me, but I do need to eat something. I peek out the bedroom door to make sure the coast is clear and then pad downstairs to the kitchen. It’s empty, thank fuck, and I pull open the fridge and then the freezer, searching for something quick and easy.

This whole situation is so fucking weird. It’s like living with roommates, except knowing that your roommates could kill you if you steal their food or don’t do your dishes.

I huff a quiet laugh at that thought. It’s not really funny—none of this is funny—but if I don’t laugh at it, I’ll cry. And I’ve never been a big crier.

As I’m digging out a frozen pizza from the top shelf, I hear the front door open and close. A second later, Rory and Levi’s voices filter through the house. I hesitate with the freezer door open, listening intently.

“…those fuckers down a peg,” Levi is saying.

“Yeah, but that was easier when we knew what rules they were playing by.”

Levi grunts in a response to Rory’s words. They pass by the kitchen on their way to the stairs, and I realize they both must’ve been out taking care of some Black Rose business or other. They’re dressed in dark clothing, and they both look more serious than usual. When they catch sight of me standing in front of the open freezer door, Levi lifts his chin in greeting.

He turns and heads toward the stairs, but Rory lingers, walking into the kitchen instead of following his friend. His green eyes dance with amusement as he settles onto a stool at the bar, cocking his head at me.

“Nice of you to defrost our freezer for us. It really isn’t necessary though.”

“Fuck.” I grab the pizza and close the door, stopping cold air from wafting into my face. Then I waggle the pizza box at Rory. “Can I have this?”

“Sure. What’s ours is yours.”