Thorn in the Dark (Grove High School Book Two) Read online

  Copyright © 2019 by A.R. Breck.

  Thorn in the Dark by A.R. Breck

  All rights reserved.

  Cover design by Q Design Cover

  Proofreading by Michelle Morrow of Chelle Reads Publishing

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by reviewers, who may quote brief passages in a review.

  The characters and events in this book are fictious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  CONTENT WARNING:

  Thorn in the Dark contains mature themes that might make some readers uncomfortable. Foul language, criminal activity, drug use, physical and sexual abuse are included in this book. Please proceed with caution.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  Rose

  When someone says everything always happens for a reason, do you believe them?

  How does anyone believe this to be true, with all of the tragedy that happens in the world?

  You spend your life trying to be the best kind of person you can be, only for the world to end up sending you a big fuck you.

  So, what is the point in trying to be a good person? What is the point of even trying?

  After all, when you finally get to the point in life where you’ve hit rock bottom, all you can see is darkness. And that darkness… it doesn’t seem like such a bad place.

  Maybe trying to get back to the light isn’t the right path to take after all.

  So, I’ll ask again. Does everything really always happen for a reason?

  I don't think so.

  Chapter One

  Only retribution can save me now.

  Easton

  “Come on!” I shout to someone. I don’t even know who. Rose, maybe, for her to wake the hell up. Or maybe to Jackson and Logan. I need to be at my house ten minutes ago, not sitting in the backseat of a car.

  But most of all, I think I’m shouting at myself for not getting to Rose in time.

  Screeching to a halt in front of my house, I wrap my shirt around Rose to cover as much of her body as I possibly can before lifting her into my arms and busting my front door open with a kick of my shoe.

  I’m angry. Angry and sad.

  When my girlfriend went missing earlier, I just about lost my mind. I was thinking bad thoughts, bad scenarios on what could have happened to her. Nothing could have prepared me for the sight of watching her get brutally raped by some sick, drugged up fucker from her past. Corey.

  He’s dead now.

  I will have to deal with that mess later, but for now, I have to deal with Rose.

  Laying her down on my bed, déjà vu hits me when I think about the last time I laid her down in my bed after she was attacked. The first time was from a bunch of hood rat whores from our school trying to put Rose in her place. It didn’t work, and we ended up running them out of town after beating the living hell out of them. Although they were the ones actually hitting each other, that's a story for another time. The scars and the pain from those bitches have healed. This time, I don’t see her pain ever fading.

  I’m sure of that.

  A blanket of cold air falls over me like a cloak, chilling me to the bones.

  Is hell supposed to be this cold?

  “What do you need us to do?” Logan says from my doorway, snapping me out of my thoughts. I glance back and see both Logan and Jackson hovering, obviously not sure what to do. The anger simmers beneath the surface on their faces, and I’m sure they want to go and revive Corey from the dead, only to kill him again. And again.

  “I don’t know. Why the fuck isn’t she waking up? Her eyes are fucking open!” I shout, pulling at my hair, needing to feel pain anywhere else besides my fucking chest.

  “I think she’s in shock,” Jackson says, slowly stepping inside of my room. He eyes me, making sure it’s okay. I give him a nod, and he walks over to Rose, feeling for a pulse and looking in her eyes. “I would give it a little while before we start freaking out. She just went through something traumatic. She’s probably just in that place where she doesn’t have to feel.”

  Jackson knows all about that place. He grew up in an abusive, fucked up life of a childhood. He moved to the Grove in middle school, and he quickly fell into the group with Logan and I. His father ended up working for my father, and we effortlessly transformed from friends to brothers. All of us. I have their back, and they have mine. Till death.

  “But, dude,” Logan says, wincing and giving me a look that shows I will not like what he has to say. “Was he wearing a condom? I mean, do we have to worry about...” He closes his eyes, but he doesn’t have to say the rest.

  Pregnancy. Diseases.

  “Can you go and get some shit? The morning-after pill, antibiotics, and that.” This is just too much, too fucking much. If I have to think about that shit any longer, I know I’ll lose it. Watching Rose go through this pain already feels like a knife to the heart. I can’t think about all the other possibilities. I won’t be responsible for my actions if I do.

  Rose and I have had our ups and downs since she moved to the Grove a few months ago. We didn’t start out on good terms. She walked into this place, thinking it was a piece of old gum on the street, always keeping her nose up in the air without a hair out of place on her pretty little head. Not saying the Grove is anything like where she’s from. She's from one of the wealthiest towns in all of Minnesota. Losing all of her money led her to my side of the street. And when you come to my side of the street acting like you're better than everyone else, it doesn't fare well for anyone.

  The moment we saw each other, I knew our minds both led to the same place. She saw my darkness, and I saw hers. The only bad thing about her darkness is it makes her oblivious to the shit that’s going on around her. She’s lucky I felt such a deep connection to her. Otherwise, I probably wouldn’t have saved her in time from that perverted homeless guy who was leeching on her.

  What feels like razor blades shred up my insides. It doesn’t matter if I saved her in time from the homeless creep. I wasn’t able to save her this time, and this is the time that she needed to be saved the most.

  “Yeah, sure. Hey, Cara has been blowing up my phone. She can’t find any of us, and people are starting to leave the Pit. What do you want me to say?” Logan asks, holding up his phone and showing me at least ten texts sitting on his home screen.

  Fucking Cara. Rose’s best friend and my pain in the ass neighbor. Cara and Rose hit it off right away and have been inseparable ever since. Cara was supposed to stick by Rose the entire nigh
t. That was the plan and I’m not sure what happened in in between A and B but C ended up with them being separated and of course, something had to happen to Rose. Again.

  I'm not necessarily angry with Cara. But I’m in enough of a mood that it’s probably best she just stay away for now.

  Doesn’t help things that she's now dating my best friend, Logan. Logan and I have been best friends for as long as I can remember. I don’t remember a time that I haven’t been friends with Logan, and most of my memories involve him one way or another. We’ve always been friends, neighbors, and brothers. I don’t think that will ever change. He’s had some pussy feelings for Cara since, well, forever. They finally let their balls drop and told each other their feelings. Now they’re inseparable and perfect.

  It’s disgusting.

  I much prefer the on the edge relationship that I have with Rose. We fight more than we don’t, but her attitude turns me on. Most days. Other days, I want to bend her over my knee and slap her ass red for getting on my nerves.

  “You need to keep her away. At least for right now. No knowing what kind of shit she will do. Jackson, can you find that stuff I asked for? Logan, go and deal with Cara. I’m sure she’s going to be freaking out, but I can’t deal with her. Not tonight.” All I want to do tonight is to make sure my girl is okay. And try to keep the Reaper tamed.

  “Yeah, yeah. Sure.” Logan says. Both of them begin walking out when Logan says, “Hey, Easton?”

  “What?” I mumble without lifting my head. The anguish I feel for Rose is seeping in, and I’m getting hit with exhaustion. Hard.

  "It’s going to be okay.” He gives me a determined look that none of us are feeling and walks out the door with Jackson, closing the front door with a slam. He’s a better man than I’ll ever be, because I want to walk out to my truck and rip Corey limb from limb. I want to grab Rose and shove her inside of my body so she’ll always be protected.

  I want to kill my father for killing Rose’s father, Leonard. He was someone Rich Malone used to rely on. Apparently, he turned on my father and his business, and that’s a good enough reason for Rich to kill anyone that’s in breathing distance. Rich Malone, the most ruthless man in Minnesota. Cocaine and gun dealer, he runs a tight ship, and in no way does he ever keep his enemies close. No, fuck that mantra. You sidestep Rich, and you take that step right into a six-foot-deep hole.

  Gone. Done.

  Leonard has worked for my dad, Rich, for years. He laundered money in the Twin Cities. When he up and vanished, Rich knew something wasn’t right. Word came later that he was working for Sanders, one of the major drug dealers in Michigan. One thing led to another, and we found out that we had a rat working for us that came from Sanders. We’ve always been on neutral ground with Sanders and that crew from Michigan. We don’t know exactly what stirred shit up, but someone shoved a knife up Sanders’ ass and now he’s got a target on his head. It wasn’t much later that we discovered Leonard was truly working with Sanders. The worst part of it all, is that after Rose already burrowed under my skin, Rich broke the news to me that Leonard was her father. When he ran out of my father’s business and into Sanders’ is when Rose and her mother had to move to the Grove.

  I knew Leonard was on borrowed time the moment Rich told me he was a traitor. It just couldn’t have come at a worse time. Because I know in the pit of my stomach that Rose saw her father murdered, and that’s why she walked her ass outside.

  Right into Corey’s arms.

  Corey was Rose's ex-boyfriend. They dated when she lived back in Woodbury, but apparently things weren’t that serious. At least, that’s what Rose said. Ever since she moved to the Grove, Corey had been sniffing around her like a dog without a bone. Like she was his. Loser.

  He’d also been hitting up the local drug dealers in town, buying some white and snorting it like he’s experienced or something. He’s not, and it ended up getting him dead in the trunk of my truck. Although, I’m sure I would have ended up killing him sooner or later.

  I walk over to my bathroom and fill the bath. I’m sure she would want to get the filth from tonight rinsed off her body. I know I do. The thought of his hands or his scent or any of his bodily fluids on her body is enough to make me start a war.

  Once hot and full, I lift Rose off of my bed and bring her back to the bathroom, sitting her in the bath and grabbing a rag to wipe her down. Her body isn’t limp like a dead person. No, she’s awake, at least in some sense. Her body is rigid and stiff as a board. Her eyes, still open, are vacant. Empty and void of everything. It’s like she’s left her body, only leaving this shell of a petrified human behind.

  “Rose? Can you hear me? I know this fucking sucks, but you gotta pull through whatever dark spot you’re in. Come back to me, Rose.” My voice feels raw from all the emotion. This all feels so foreign to me. My body feels weak even as my adrenaline pumps on overdrive. I almost feel like I’m coming down with something, but I know it’s just my insides tearing in two.

  The boys and I used to play this game when we were little called Snake Bite. You grab onto their forearm with both hands, and with one hand you twist one way and the other hand you twist the other way as hard as you can. Their skin ends up feeling like it’s burning and in excruciating pain, and they hold on until they can’t take it anymore.

  That’s how my heart feels like now. Just. Like. That. I’m holding on because I don’t have any other choice, but shit, this pain is brutal.

  Looking down at Rose, my heart sinks when she doesn’t give me a response, even though I didn’t expect one. She’s gone right now, and if Jackson is right, it might be a while until she comes back to me.

  I scrub her harder than I probably should, but I think she would do the same if she were awake. Her skin ends up blotchy, red, and irritated. But I needed to get his hands and his breath off of her body.

  Once I lay her down in my bed, I tuck her in and lean down, inhaling her scent and almost choking on the emotion overloading my throat. “Rose, I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere, okay? You’re safe.” I whisper in her ear, hoping for even a twitch, a catch of her breath, anything.

  I let out a weary sigh when I once again get no response and climb into bed beside her, resting my hand on her stomach and letting the horrors of the day slip me into a nightmare filled sleep.

  ~

  I wake up to the front door slamming. Shooting up in bed, I glance over at Rose and see her in the same state as I left her. Only this time, I see her blink. My heart jumps at the sight.

  “Rose?” I lean over her, trying to catch her eye. “Rose!” I shout. “For fuck's sake, say something.” I grab her by the shoulder and give her a little shake. When she doesn't answer, I grab a bowl sitting on my nightstand and without even thinking, I grab it and chuck it against the wall. It shatters in huge shards, falling to the ground like a sad, painful snowfall. Looking over at Rose, I hope for any kind of change.

  Blink. Blink.

  I hear a knock on the bedroom door and give up trying to get a response from Rose. I don’t know what to do for her anymore, and it makes a strange numbness come over me.

  Glancing out the window, I notice the sun starting to peek through the trees. It must be early in the morning. I’m only giving her until the end of the day. If she doesn’t snap out of it by then, I’ll have to bring her to the hospital. I don’t see any other choice.

  “Come in,” I grumble.

  The door creaks open, and Jackson appears, holding a small bag in his hand. “Here’s the stuff you needed. Pills, pills, and more pills.” He pushes the door open and takes a step inside. He doesn’t look much better than I feel, and I wonder if the guy even slept at all.

  “Thanks, dude.” I take them out and look at them. It looks like he grabbed everything that I needed. “Fuck.” I groan out when I realize I can’t realistically shove pills down her throat while she’s unresponsive.

  “What?” He looks at the bag on the ground. “Did I miss something?”


  “No, I just don’t know how I’m supposed to get her to take these when she isn’t even remotely responsive.”

  He frowns, “No change, then?” Jackson asks, leaning up against the door frame.

  “Nope.” I glance over at her.

  Blink.

  “The blinking is new.” A lightness that I never hear from him brightens his voice.

  “Yeah, she’s still a fucking corpse, though. Not a word, no twitch, no squeeze. Nothing. It’s like she’s turned into a vegetable.” I pull at my hair, feeling ultimately helpless.

  A buzzing sound starts from somewhere in my room, startling us from our thoughts.

  “The fuck?” Jackson looks around, although you could never find anything in this place anyway, it’s in absolute shambles right now. The mobile home park that I live in is already dilapidated, the shutters hang only by one nail and most of the decks in the park are sinking into the earth. We, and by we I mean only me, keep this place in pretty decent shape. That probably has something to do with me never being here, but still. My room is about equal to the size of a shoe box, and the only thing I'm able to hold in this room is a bed, dresser and nightstand, the size of a miniature microwave. So, what I mean is that it’s small as fuck in here. And that combined with how things have been going lately, most of my clothes are just scattered on the floor in here. It looks terrible in here, and to be honest, it doesn’t smell much better, either.

  “That’s Rose’s phone.” I pull her phone out of the pocket of her jeans that are laying in a ball on my floor.

  “It’s her mom,” I say when I look at the screen. Shit, I have no idea what Rose told her mom last night, but I can almost guarantee she expected her to come home at some point. Rose’s mom, Brenda, is a class A bitch with a side of alcoholism. Rose said that her new boyfriend has been keeping her sober. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned in life it’s that once a drunk, always a drunk.

  “Are you going to answer?” Jackson asks.

  “Fuck, no.” We both watch it ring until it goes silent, only after a few seconds, it starts ringing again.

  “I don’t think she’s going to stop calling, dude,” Jackson says with a grimace.