Fight Dirty (Black Rose Kisses 1)

I don’t answer. I just close the oven on the half-cooked pizza and stare down at the sleek, dark surface of the stovetop. There’s a long beat of silence as Rory stands behind me, and then he makes a quiet noise in his throat and heads for the door. I wait for him to leave before glancing over my shoulder at where he was just standing.

He doesn’t want me to feel like a prisoner, he said.

And the crazy thing is, in some ways, I don’t. Having free run of the house, being able to use the kitchen whenever I want, and being allowed to go to school? All of those things help preserve some sense of normalcy in my life, making it almost possible for me to pretend these men are just three very pushy, dominant roommates I’ve been saddled with.

But forgetting I’m a prisoner might be more dangerous than being constantly reminded that’s what I am.

Because if I lose sight of who and what these men truly are, I’ll end up paying for it.

I just know it.

9

The next two days pass in pretty much the same way as the first two. I get up, go to my classes, and Levi’s there all the damn time. We get lunch together, and then he follows me back to campus to wait outside while I finish up for the day.

Then we go back to the house.

Rory and Sloan are usually there by the time we return in the late afternoon. I have no idea what they do all day while Levi and I are out. Probably ruin other people’s lives or something.

One nice thing about being stuck living with these men—as if anything is really “nice” about it—is being able to take advantage of the opportunity to try to find out what the hell the deal was with Dad’s fight. Since they refuse to tell me, I’ve decided I’ll have to dig up the answers on my own.

Like Rory said, the guys are all comfortable in their home, not used to having a fourth person around. That also means they’re not used to having to hide anything, and I use that to my advantage. Sloan in particular has a lot of serious-sounding phone conversations, and I manage to find a place on the stairs that’s hidden from the living room below but provides a good place to eavesdrop whenever someone is talking in there.

I manag

e to catch enough of a few conversations to piece together that there’s something going on with the Jackals, the other gang that competes with the Black Roses for control of the city. Their rivalry is almost legendary, and most people fear being caught in the middle of it.

It all seems to point to something bigger going on that I don’t fully understand, and I can only hope that whatever the hell is up, it isn’t going to put my dad in more danger.

Other than going to class every day, I’m basically stuck at the guys’ house. I wander between my room and the kitchen, trying not to linger too long in any one spot out in the open. Rory never misses a chance to tease me in a way that makes me both annoyed and flustered, and Sloan seems content to pretend I don’t exist, only pausing to glare at me when he’s in a bad mood.

Which is basically all the time.

I wish I could do the same and pretend they aren’t there, but between Levi following me diligently every day and the way I can’t ignore the other two, I’m sort of losing my mind.

They’re not the only ones who aren’t used to sharing space like this. I’ve been living with my dad while I go to school to save money, and suddenly being under the same roof as three guys in their early twenties is… an adjustment, to say the least.

They’re all so fucking masculine, walking around all sweaty from time spent in the gym in the basement, or coming down from showers in sweatpants and thin shirts that leave nothing to the imagination. It’s distracting and frustrating on multiple levels.

In an attempt to get some distance and keep myself busy after Levi and I return from school on Thursday, I grab a few tools and a rag from the garage and head outside to where my bike is parked. I’ve already put in dozens of hours and as much money as I could afford to get it running smoothly, but there are still more tweaks to be done.

Late afternoon sunlight warms my skin as I work, and I pause every once in a while to wipe my forehead with the back of my arm. I’ll never be a pro mechanic, but I’ve learned enough from my dad and a couple of his buddies in our neighborhood to know what I’m doing.

I’m so lost in my task that I almost jump when the rumbling sound of a car approaches. Sloan pulls up in the driveway and cuts the engine, staring out at me through the window.

His gaze practically burns a hole in my skin, but I ignore him as he slides out of the car and slams the driver’s side door shut. He’s about to head toward the house when something Rory said the other night flashes through my mind.

Sloan makes the decisions around here.

He answers to Gavin, but he’s the closest one to the top living in this house.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I repeat the question I asked Rory. “Hey. What is my dad doing for you guys?”

None of my eavesdropping has yielded an answer so far, and I want to know. I need to understand what’s happening here, especially if I want to have a real chance of helping Dad as more than just collateral.

Sloan stops. Then he glances down at me where I’m crouched near the back wheel of my bike, his gray eyes narrowing slightly. “Am I the last one on your list?”

I frown. “What?”