Reapers and Roses: (Grove High School Book One) Read online

  She's doing nothing for me.

  The girl at the bar though, she does everything for me. I don't know her, yet I feel like I should. I refrain from going up to her, knowing that it will just put a target on her back with all of the men and women in this place. They want what they can't have. And if I have her? Everyone will want her.

  That's the price you pay when you are a Malone. I grew up in this shit of a state with my shit father. He taught me how to brawl, he was the founder of this place, after all.

  Rich Malone grew up in the Grove his two buddies, Logan and Jackson's dads, and those three ended up taking over our crappy school and was able to find some order in yhe wasteland that it was.

  They are now big-time dealers in the Twin Cities. If you have some dope, you mostly got it from them. Even if you didn't get it from them, per se, you still got it from them.

  You follow their rules, or you don't survive. That is how it goes here in Minnesota. I'm lucky that I don't have to take over the business when he dies. He was hoping I would, but with my skills in fighting, he knows that I can make rank in better ways than selling the drugs of the city.

  Logan and Jackson will take over instead, and that's okay with me. I will be somewhat of a silent partner in the whole thing, but I won't have to get down and dirty with the rest of them.

  He has me working for him now, but his rule is that until I make it into something bigger, I am still under his order.

  I snap out of my thoughts of shit I don't care to even think about as this broad on top of me makes a grab at my dick, trying to give it a squeeze and make it come to life.

  "The fuck. Did I tell you that you could touch me?" I growl.

  Alarm blazes in her eyes. "I – I'm sorry, Easton. Aren't you having a good time?" She grows brave after her comment, reaching out to give it another grab.

  Before she can reach her target, I grab her wrist in a painful grip and rip her hand, and body, away from me. I enjoy the look of pain that passes through her eyes.

  Why the fuck do these bitches think they can hop on whatever dick they please?

  "Get out of here."

  "But – "

  "You better listen to what he says, Mandy." Jackson comes up behind me, grabbing hold of Mandy's shoulders and hauling her away from me.

  Jackson looks back and gives me a head nod, and I give him one back - one of appreciation. My boys always have my back, and I will always have theirs.

  Now that Mandy is out of my sight, I look back towards the bar where little Miss Rich was sitting and notice the stool empty. Her friend, that little nosy neighbor of mine, Cara, is gone too.

  Alarm bells start ringing from deep inside of me, soon to be blaring out of my ears. I'm not sure why, but I feel like something isn't right.

  Something isn't right at all.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Rose

  To fight evil, you have to understand the dark. – Nalini Singh

  "Hey, so what's up with the boys over there?" I nod my head towards Easton, Logan and Jackson. "You mentioned earlier that they own the town. What's the deal with that?" I ask, finishing off my last drink.

  "Easton's dad found order to the Grove when it was basically run over by drug and human trafficking. It was horrible, really. Not that I would know, because I wasn't even born yet. But the stories I've heard... " She shakes her head, and I take that to mean it was really bad. "Anyway, he owns it now – the town, the school, everything. Rich Malone – the most powerful man in the Twin Cities. Rich, Collin Boyer and Randall Shaw are kind of the council without there actually being a council." She says .

  "Who is Collin Boyer and Randall Shaw?" I ask curiously.

  "Collin Boyer is Logan's dad – the blonde, playful boy who was a dick to you in the parking lot this morning." I scoff, about ready to tell her how playful is the last word I would use to describe that dick, but she beats me too it. "I know, they are all assholes, really. But at the end of the day, Logan is the nicest one of the group. Randall Shaw is Jackson's dad. They are all big shots, but no one really speaks about them. Not unless you want your tongue cut out."

  I finish off the rest of my drink, not sure how to take that comment.

  "The funny thing is, is that all three of the dads have all this money from drug dealing – like I'm pretty sure they are millionaires, or close to it. But where do they live? My neighbors, in the trailer park. We all grew up together."

  "You live next to those guys?" I couldn't imagine being so close to them all the time. Talk about panic attacks.

  "Yeah. We used to be friends when we were young. Then we hit high school and they got wrapped up in their fathers' business. Then they become untouchable. It's whatever though, whatever fucking floats their boat."

  Setting my glass down on the table, I hop down from my stool. I'm suddenly completely exhausted – this day, the fight tonight, this life. Everything. I am pretty sure I could fall asleep here if I really wanted.

  "Hey, I'm pretty beat. I think I'm going to head out." I stand up and stretch, testing the waters if I can really drive home or not. I'm glad to find no dizziness. Stretching my drinks out kept me pretty sober.

  "Sounds good. I might as well head out too. School tomorrow, you know." She shrugs and sets her glass down on the bar top, hopping off her own stool.

  We walk out together, giving Jerry a wave as we get outside. Cara and I make plans to meet up tomorrow morning before school and then she heads off in the opposite direction from where I parked.

  As I get further away from the Pit, darkness sets in and I shiver, wrapping my arms around my body to conserve body heat.

  Maybe I actually should have brought a jacket. Minnesota cold is no joke. At least it's going on spring. During the winter time, it seems like everyone just hibernates while the weather dips below zero for what feels like a century.

  Once I get closer to my car, I start to feel the sensation that someone is watching me. Or following me. This feels different than when I was inside and Easton was watching me. No, this one feels… unwanted.

  I look behind me, but don't see anyone. As I speed up and almost reach my car, I'm grabbed by my waist and hauled up against the wall of the nearby building. My body and face slam up against the concrete wall.

  Shit. That hurt.

  Dread slithers through me as I reach up and feel my cheek. When I bring my hand down, I see a faint streak of blood.

  Ouch.

  I attempt to turn around or get away from my attacker, but whoever he is hovers over my body and pins me up against the wall. A strong scent of musk overpowers my senses. Not the good musk either, this is the I haven't showered in days and haven't washed my clothes in even longer musk.

  "Hey there, pretty thing. What are you doing out this late at night?"

  I open my mouth to respond, or at least tell him to fuck off, but a lump of terror lodges itself in my throat, making me unable to speak.

  Or scream.

  "You got a hot little body here. And these are some pretty little clothes you're wearing. Trying to show off some skin, huh?" His voice sounds like it has been shoved through a meat grinder many times over. His breath is hot and heavy on the back of my neck, and it makes me want to crawl out of my own skin.

  "P-please, I don't have anything for you. Please let me go." My voice trembles, although at least I finally found my voice.

  "Hey, what's the hurry? I'm just trying to have a little fun." His meaty fingers trail down my bare shoulder and wrap around to my front, pulling me in tightly against him as he starts fondling my breast.

  I go and try to shove his hand away, but he's strong. Too strong to fight up against. Tears of hopelessness start filling up my eyes and dripping down my cheeks as the horror of this situation finally comes to light.

  There is no escaping this man.

  His fat beer belly and small bulge of a penis pokes at my butt as I try to slither away from him, but it gets me nowhere.

  "Just relax and let us have a little fun, y
eah? I promise to make you feel good." His hand is wrapped tightly around my body and holding me in place, while his other that was fondling my breast starts to move down to the top button of my jeans, trying to open up and make room for his greasy hands.

  The moment that the button on my jeans is released and his hand is about to make its entry into my panties, a gust of cold air hits my back as the weight of the creep is suddenly gone off my back.

  In shock, I turn around to see what happened when I see a mass of black hovering over what I'm sure is my pudgy molester, pounding relentlessly into him over and over again. In the shadows, I couldn't see who it was, but once the moon hits the face of my savior, I see it is Easton that came to my rescue.

  He looks menacing, so much so that I feel an inkling of fear to be around him, even though he is the one that saved me from being assaulted. His teeth are bared and he growls with each crunch his fist makes to the man's face.

  He keeps going, with no signs of stopping.

  "Stop. Please stop." I say, but it's too quiet. "Easton, stop!" I shout.

  He whips his head up towards me at this, stopping with his fist poised midair, ready to land another deadly punch to the bloody pile at his feet.

  "You want me to…stop?" He asks, confused. His voice is laced with fury, raspy and low, like he can't be held accountable for his own actions.

  He's the Reaper, in the flesh.

  "I don't want you to kill him." I whisper.

  "Why shouldn't I? This piece of shit almost…" He growls and turns away from me, turning back to the man who is unmoving on the ground and starting up with his assault once again.

  I run up to him, grabbing him by the forearm. "Easton, stop. He's out." I point at the pile of blood that is accumulating around the man's body.

  If he isn't already dead, he's close.

  "He should be." He says, and I realize I said that last statement aloud.

  As Easton looks on at the man on the ground, he seems to realize he's as good as dead. He stands up and turns halfway towards me. "Are you all right?"

  "I – I think so." I feel across my body and watch as his eyes follow the path of my hands. Fire lays where his eyes trail.

  In the blink of an eye, his gaze turns from concerned to blank.

  "Good. Go back to your home nestled in the 'burbs and don't think about coming back here. This place isn't the place for you, rich girl."

  Anger heats through my body. But that quickly gives away to sadness. "I'm not rich. At least not anymore."

  He rolls his eyes like he doesn't believe me. "I don't fucking care. Don't show your face around here again, you hear? Next time, someone might not be here to save you."

  I stare at him, unblinking.

  "Go!" He shouts, then turns around and stalks off back towards the building, not giving me a second glance.

  I stand there for a few more moments, until the man on the ground starts coughing and turns on his side, spitting out blood.

  This snaps me into action, and I race around the sidewalk, into my car, and hightail it out of there, leaving a puff of exhaust in my wake.

  ◆◆◆

  Arriving at school today takes more effort than yesterday. When I was walking out of the Pit last night, I was beyond exhausted. I knew that once I got home, I would be able to crash onto my pillow and escape this hellish version of my life.

  Then I got assaulted.

  Once I got home, I took a shower and rubbed my skin raw in an attempt at getting rid of his grubby fingers and musky scent. No matter how long I was in the shower, I could still feel his finger prints embedded into my skin and I could still smell his rot in the depths of my nostrils.

  It was no use, and once I realized that, I got out of the shower in a depressive state and burrito wrapped myself underneath the covers, praying for an escape.

  I couldn't find my way to the land of dreams, no matter how hard I tried. I counted sheep, I put music on, turned it off, put the television on, and turned it off. I tossed and turned for hours, fear always sitting at the back of my mind. I was afraid that this pervert was on his way to finish the job. I felt watched, even as I drew my curtains and closed my door. It was a gross feeling, one that was with me throughout the entirety of the night.

  Now, as I sluggishly park my car in my apparent assigned section of the lot, I get out and immediately notice Cara hopping her way over to me. Today she is in light washed skinny jeans with a spaghetti strapped tank, enhancing her petite frame.

  Grabbing my things, I exit my car as Cara stops in front of my car.

  "Hey." She says with a pep in her voice, backpack slung over her shoulder.

  "Hi. What's up?" I ask.

  "Wasn't last night awesome? We should go to the next fight."

  I gulp. It's on the tip of my tongue to spill what happened to me last night, but I just met her so I don't know how much I can trust her. I also would rather bury these memories than relive them. "When is it?" I ask hesitantly.

  "Not sure. No one ever knows until the day of. Less of a chance of getting busted by the police."

  My eyes grow wide. "It's illegal to even be there?"

  "Well, obviously. It's an underground fighting ring. Not to mention the drug business that goes on in that building." She shrugs like it's no big deal.

  I store this information for later. I'm way too discombobulated right now to even comprehend what she just said. I will have to talk about it with her later.

  "Are you heading in?" She asks after a beat of silence.

  "Oh, yeah. Let's go." We start walking in when my phone buzzes with a text alert. I fish it out of my pocket and open up my messages.

  Corey: Hey babe, miss you. Are you available after school today? We should catch up. I will be driving through the Grove and we can meet somewhere. Starbucks, maybe?

  Corey? What the hell does he want?

  Corey is my old boyfriend from my old school. We dated for quite a while, but he ended up wanting to play the field before we settled down. Didn't really bother me too much, to be honest. I ended up moving away before we could really talk about our future. Maybe that's what this is about?

  Rose: Sure. 4:00pm?

  Corey: See you then.

  Pocketing my phone, I look back up to an impatient Cara. "Are you ready to go? We're going to be late if we don't move it. My step dad is going to whoop my ass if I get any more truancies this year."

  "Yeah, sure." We start walking up to the front entrance, passing the section of the lot that is off limits. Glancing up, I startle when I see the black eyes of the guy who I'm unsure whether he's the hero or the villian in my life.

  Easton, of course, is staring right back at me.

  He apparently showed up at school today. He doesn't look too happy to see me, though. Actually, he looks downright pissed off.

  "What crawled up his ass?" Cara whispers to me from the corner of her mouth.

  "I don't know." I put my head down and continue my walk into the school.

  "Hey! Rich girl, get over here!" Comes the voice that I now know is Logan, the douchebag that told me off yesterday from parking in their lot.

  I halt in my tracks, but then continue on walking towards the school. I'm not going to be bullied by some poor high school jerks. Well maybe not poor, if what Cara told me last night is true. But – at least low-class.

  The rich boys from my old school wouldn't be caught dead in wearing anything less than designer, driving anything less than luxury, or living in anything less than outrageously expensive.

  Although, these boys, though less wealthy, are for sure more deadly.

  "Yeah, rich girl. Talking to you. Get your ass over here. Now." Logan barks at me again.

  "I think they're talking to you." Cara mumbles.

  "I know they're talking to me. I refuse to come on command. I'm not a damn dog."

  "I wouldn't put it that lightly. They get what they want, all the time. If I were you, I would just go over there and get it over with." She says once we
reach the entrance of the school.

  "Okay, then. Come on."

  She barks out a laugh. "Oh, hell no. They didn't ask for me. They asked for you. Plus – remember what I said earlier? Truancy equals whoop ass. No, thank you. Good luck, and see you at lunch." And she walks away before I have the chance to beg. Or bribe.

  Honestly, either one would work for me.

  Dealing with one of them at a time is a lot, but all three of them? Fuck.

  I slowly make my way over to them, adjusting my shoulders and lifting my chin so I don't look like a chicken shit.

  They are such a sight - all of them standing there together. Easton lays back up against his black truck, legs crossed at his ankles and arms crossed against his chest, once again accentuating his built frame through his leather jacket.

  Logan is standing to his side with his legs slightly spread and a devilish smirk playing across his mouth. Jackson, on the other hand, looks angry as he bends over the front of the hood, forearms propped up against the truck as he scowls at me.

  My gaze snaps back to Easton, watching his dark, soulless eyes gazing back at me.

  "I told you not to come back here. What the fuck are you doing at my school?" Easton rumbles, and I feel the vibrations float through my veins.

  "I go to school here. You would have known that if you came to school yesterday." I snark.

  His eyebrows lift, probably surprised at my sass.

  "You hear this bitch?" Logan laughs, looking over at Easton then Jackson. Easton doesn't say a word, but Jackson shakes his head in annoyance.

  "What's your name, rich girl?" Jackson asks. I nearly startle, this being the first time I've heard him speak. I almost thought he was a mute, with his lack of communication. His voice is a mix of rough and smooth. Sexy, but his quiet demeanor still makes me standoffish.

  "Rose."

  "Rose." Easton floats the name across his tongue, trying out each letter as if it's a sip of fine wine. "So, Rose, once again, what are you doing at my school?"