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

  He turns his glacial glare towards me before looking back at Jesse, who seems confused and a little apprehensive.

  "Hey, man. I'm sorry. She said she wasn't here with anyone. She told me she's single!" He puts his arms up, and I immediately roll my eyes at the crack in his voice.

  Pussy.

  "She's with me." Is all he says. Fucking caveman.

  "Sorry, man. Sorry." With that, he scoots back on his ass and once he's far enough away from Easton, he turns over and books it out of there.

  Easton stands there with his back to me, breathing hard and his back as stiff as stone. I do the only thing I can do.

  I shove him again, this time in the back when he is not expecting it. He barely moves, but his foot does shuffle and inch forward on the ground.

  Ha, success.

  He turns towards me, pissed as all hell.

  Well, okay. He's pissed? Because I'm even more pissed that he had to go all fucking macho on innocent Jesse.

  I raise my hand, ready to slap him across the face when he grabs me by the wrist in one hand, squeezing so tight it's almost to the point of pain. His other hand grabs me by my lower jaw and holds me immobile.

  "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

  "Having a good time? What the hell does it look like I'm doing? Why did you have to come and ruin my good time? Couldn't get it up for the chlamydia ridden whores?" I hear a gasp coming from a few feet away, and I'm sure I offended one of said chlamydia ridden whores.

  His grip moves from my jaw to my neck, cutting off my rant.

  "Watch it."

  "Or what? What the hell else can you do? Lock me up in your dungeon?" I grit through the lock he has on my neck.

  "Or I will bend you over my knee in your little slutty outfit and teach you some fucking respect."

  Rage so powerful I'm surprised I don't turn into the Hulk overflows throughout my body, and I break from his hold and give him my most powerful shove yet. Still nothing.

  So, I do my next best thing. "I hate you!" I shout with as much power my lungs will allow.

  I don't even grab my bag or look at Cara, I just stomp off to the bathroom, fury blowing out of my ears like a fucking choo choo train.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Rose

  When we don't know who to hate, we hate ourselves. ― Chuck Palahniuk

  Shaking with anger, I ignore all of the looks and whispers around me and walk to the nearest bathroom, locking myself into the stall and shoving my head into my hands.

  I fucking hate Easton.

  I seriously hate that guy. Who the hell does he think he is? He is such an asshole, such a fucking bully. He ignored me out there, acted like I didn't exist when I know he saw me sitting at the bar. He lets some sluts with some serious camel toe dry hump him like he is the fucking king of the world.

  Then he has the audacity to come and ruin my good time just because what - he couldn't bear to see me happy? Does it make his dick hard to see me pissed?

  I breathe through my anger, tears of frustration and fury trying to make their escape, but I breathe through it until I no longer feel like they are on the edge.

  I've always been an angry crier, and I hate it.

  After long enough where I feel I have reigned in the beast that wants to break free, I quickly pee and then hurry out of the stall, ready to get back to Cara.

  We did promise, after all, that we wouldn't leave each other's sight tonight.

  What I see once I get out of the stall, though, stops me in my tracks.

  Five of the girls who were out there flirting with the guys, four of which are blocking my exit as a fifth one stands by the door, to not let anyone in or let me out, I'm not sure.

  They look ghetto, with their worn, slutty clothes and their overdone makeup. They look like a cheap date. Or maybe a prostitute.

  I look down, wanting to ignore them. I might be able to take one of these girls, but definitely not four or five.

  I've never gotten into a fight before. Like, yeah, I've gotten into verbal pissing matches with girls from my old school. But I've never been as aggressive as I have been since I moved to the Grove.

  I try to walk around them to the sink and wash my hands of the filth of a public bathroom, but one of the girls on the edge stands in front of me, bumping me with her shoulder and making me fall back a step.

  "Um, excuse me." I mumble, attempting to walk around them again.

  "You're not excused, bitch." Comes the catty girl who called me a slut the other day.

  My spine stiffens. I can handle bullies, but I can only take the torment so long until I feel like I'm going to explode.

  "Seriously, move out of my way." I say a little firmer this time.

  The top bitch, whose name I don't even know to be honest, separates from her posse and comes to stand nose to nose with me. "You really don't know who the fuck you're messing with, do ya? Walking into my town, into my school, like you own this place. Who the hell do you think you are?"

  I stare at her, saying nothing.

  "Huh, bitch? Are you a mute? You think just because you got the boys talking to you and acknowledging you that you got them in your back fucking pocket, don't ya?" She pops a piece of gum in her mouth, depositing the wrapper on the floor.

  I wrinkle my nose at her - a trashy slut and a trashy litterer? What a waste of a human.

  "You got nothing to say, huh? The fuck is wrong with you, bitch?" She comes up to me and gives me a little shove.

  I can't just stand there and get walked all over. So, I do the only thing I apparently know how to do.

  I shove her back - hard.

  She falls back against the sink, and fury - pure, venomous, fury - looks back at me. I'm pretty sure she snarls like a cat, but I can't be too sure because as she stands up from her slumped position against the sink, I hear a rrrriiiiippppppp.

  I gasp as my hand flies to my mouth.

  Uh, oh.

  The girl's shirt got trapped on a sharp corner near the old, rusted sink, and as she stood up it cut through her thin fabric like butter.

  All the girls gasp and the turn towards their leader, who is looking town at her shirt like she got a bad haircut or something.

  "This! This is my favorite shirt!" She screeches. Really? That shit is tacky, and it should have been tossed years ago. "You are going to fucking pay for that one, slut!" And this time, when she walks towards me, her friends follow behind her.

  All with determination set on their faces.

  Shit.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Easton

  We are each our own devil, and we make this world our hell. ― Oscar Wilde

  I swear, if I don't end up killing Rose, I will have to buy myself a fucking medal or something. She is pissing me off more than I can even comprehend. I've never had someone burrow under my skin the way that she has. I barely know the bitch, but she's found a way to weasel her way in and find a way to push every damn button that ignites the anger inside of me.

  First, she has to give me fuck me eyes when I look down at her after my win. I tried to squash those eyes and all my thoughts about her by finding some easy pussy. It seemed to be working, until I looked over and of course - what do I see?

  Some random dude giving Rose fuck me eyes and leaning way, way too close to her.

  So, she can't really be pissed that I came and swiped the stool out from underneath his ass, I mean - come on. The dude was encroaching on my territory.

  I felt the Reaper come alive inside of me, and I honestly very, very rarely feel him actually come alive at all.

  Only when fighting, and just about every time Rose is around.

  Why, though? What is it about her that turns me inside out?

  I walk back over to an emotionless Jackson and a smirking Logan. I shove Logan just for the hell of it. "Don't say a fucking word."

  He puts his hands up in the air, pretending to act aloof. "I have no idea what you're talkin' about, bro."

  "Uh huh,
sure." I sit back down in my chair, leaning my head back and running my hands down my face in exasperation.

  My horniness has turned into exhaustion. The urge to go balls deep in some random has dissipated as fast as a scared rabbit. Now I just want sleep. Maybe a beer too, but mostly just sleep.

  I'm glad that the girls left, because I wouldn't be able to handle their needy asses for a moment longer tonight.

  Without even having to say anything, a beer arrives and I down half of it in one go.

  Suddenly, I hear my name being called and turn around to see Cara, my nosy neighbor and apparently Rose's new best friend, rushing up to me. What stops me though, is the terrified look on her face that immediately puts me on edge.

  "Easton!" She shoves her way through people to get to me, and I set my beer down.

  "What is it"? I ask once she gets to me.

  She bends over and puts her hands on her knees, taking a few deep breaths. "Rose..." She is so out of breath, I would laugh at her if it wasn't for the fact that she said Rose's name.

  "What is it?" I bark. What the fuck is going on?

  She stands up straight and points behind her. "Rose - I think something's wrong with Rose. I tried to go after her in the bathroom, and someone's blocking it. I heard some noises inside, and it didn't sound good." She takes a huge breath. "Easton, something's wrong with Rose -"

  I don't hear the rest of what she's about to say, pushing my way through people like they're fucking tissues. I can hear Logan and Jackson get up and rush behind me, and together the three of us shove people and pick them up to toss them out of the way on our journey to the bathroom.

  Once I get there, I gently try to open it and feel someone pushing it closed. Fuck, now I'm pissed.

  With a kick, I slam the door open and hear a girl being flung across the bathroom on a cry and eventually hitting a stall, the bathroom door creaking on its hinges.

  What I see in the center of the bathroom makes my eyes go from black to red.

  Rose is curled up in the fetal position on the ground as the four bitches who were trying to ride my cock earlier circle around her, kicking her over and over again. Logan and Jackson rush around me and pick them up by their hair or clothes, tossing them out of the way but not letting them leave the bathroom.

  I rush over to Rose, who is unconscious and bleeding on the ground. I instantly check for a pulse - not sure how far these girls would go to get their point across, and let out a sigh of relief when I feel it steady and strong.

  Just passed out, thank fuck.

  I hear Cara come in and let out a horrified scream behind me, but my eyes are on the five girls trembling in the corner.

  I go up to the head bitch, Trisha, and grab her by her neck and slam her up against the wall. Not like I did with Rose, no, this time I am holding back from squeezing the life out of this slut.

  "I'm letting you go right now because I have more important shit to do. But just because I let you go does not mean you are off the hook. I will fucking find you, and you will pay for what you've done tonight. You feel like runnin' away? Sure, go ahead. But still, I'm going to fucking find you, and I'm going to fucking wreck you." I say slowly and quietly.

  I faintly smell the scent of urine, but I can't even find it in me to laugh at the pitiful people in front of me.

  All I feel is rage.

  "Now get the fuck out of my building!" I roar, practically shaking the floor with my fury.

  They scatter like flies and without a second thought, I go over to Rose and pick her up in my arms, walking out without saying a word. My boys know what to do. We all walk out through the back entrance where we can escape without curious onlookers.

  Jackson rushes out around me to go grab a car, while Logan grabs onto a hysterical Cara to calm her the hell down.

  Moments later, Jackson is pulling up with my truck and I open up the back door and hop in, keeping Rose secured in my arms. Cara hops in next to us while Logan hops in the front seat with Jackson.

  Jackson skids out of the lot and looks over at me in the rearview mirror. "Where to?"

  "My house."

  With a nod, Jackson navigates through the city and back to the Grove. I continuously check Rose's pulse and reign in my temper from shouting at a weeping Cara beside me. Shit was scary, I don't deny that. There was a lot of blood, I almost hesitate not bringing her to the hospital, but that would just raise too many questions.

  Plus, we're all minors.

  I am a little worried about her being unconscious, but with a strong pulse, that relieves a lot of my concern.

  Pulling up to my house, Jackson parks sideways, but before he can even turn off the truck I'm already opening the door, rushing into my house and straight to my bedroom. Jackson comes in behind me, lingering in the doorway and looking a little unsure of himself for once.

  "What do you need?" He asks.

  "Water, ice, Ibuprophen." I think for a second. "A fucking gun to blow those bitches brains out."

  Jackson smirks and nods as he walks out to get what I asked for. He knows how I'm feeling, and I'm glad he at least has a semi soft spot for Rose.

  Laying her down on the bed, I take off her shoes and brush her hair out of her face as gently as I can, clenching my jaw as I see the bruises already starting to form. I go and get a towel, wetting it from the nearby bathroom. I hurry back in my room and seeing Jackson standing over her, fury running across his face as he sees how beat up she is.

  He's a good guy. A mute, but a good guy. He just buries his emotions deep.

  I lay a hand on his shoulder and give him a little nudge. "Thanks bro, for everything."

  He nods and heads out of the room. He and Logan will spend the night, I'm sure. Just to make sure everything is okay. I hear Cara in the other room, too. Shit, might as well be a fucking party when my girl gets jumped.

  Jesus... again with this my girl shit?

  I shake those thoughts out of my head as I head into my room, closing my door and shutting out the world.

  I sit down on the edge of the bed next to Rose, using the washcloth to wipe away the blood that covers her face. My fury builds with each moment - with every cut and every bruise that I uncover.

  Once her face is done, I peel off her clothes and let out a groan at the state of her body.

  Her hips and back are covered in bruises. Doesn't look like anything too much worse than what someone would get in the ring. But because she is not used these kinds of beatings, I'm sure she's going to be feeling pure agony in the morning.

  I grab the ice packs and slide into bed next to her, ready for a long night of taking care of the new girl.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Rose

  The marks humans leave are too often scars. ― John Green

  "This! This is my favorite shirt!" She screeches. Really? That shit is tacky, and it should have been tossed years ago. "You are going to fucking pay for that one, slut!" And this time, when she walks towards me, her friends follow behind her.

  My eyes go wide in fear. Shit, this is bad.

  The girl whose shirt ripped runs towards me and before I even have a chance to defend myself, she lands a punch to my cheek bone.

  "You stupid. Fucking. Whore!" She screeches, grabbing onto my hair and pulling me down to the ground.

  I attempt to kick at her, get her the hell away from me, anything. I think I successfully land one when I hear a groan come from her, and I think I'm about to be able to escape from her when the other three come over to me, kicking the hell out of my back and sides and throwing in some punches and scratches.

  It's hopeless even trying to fight back at this point. I curl into the fetal position and try to protect my head from further damage, but eventually, the pain becomes too much and I pass out.

  Shooting up in bed, I gasp and then let out a cry at the shot of pain that shoots through every inch of my body.

  "Aahhhhhhh." I groan, clutching my head.

  "Whoa, whoa. You're okay." I feel a hand ge
ntly lay on my back and snap my head up to look behind me, and then groan again. "Shittttt." The pain is almost so much that I black out again, but taking a few breaths settles my throbbing head - just a touch.

  "What am I doing here?" I moan.

  "Getting taken care of. What does it look like you're doing? Here, take these." A few small pills land in my hand and I hear a bottle open next to me.

  I don't even ask what they are. If I'm here and I'm alive, I doubt the first thing Easton is going to want to do is kill me. He could have just gotten it over with while I was out.

  After swallowing down the pills, I pass him back the bottle of water and slowly lay back down, closing my eyes and scrubbing my hands down my face.

  Laying there, I suddenly notice that I can feel his worn sheets up against my bare ass and freeze every bone in my body. I'm sure I look like a statue.

  "Where the hell are my clothes?"

  "I took them off. Had to assess the damage."

  "What's the verdict."

  "You've got a nice ass."

  The corner of my mouth lifts in a smirk, but I don't have even a blip of energy to do anything else. I wait, silently, and he continues.

  "They really did a fucking number on you. You're lucky you're alive."

  I'm suddenly so, so angry that I landed myself in this situation. If I would have kept Cara with me at all times like we promised, I never would have ended up all banged up and in pain.

  And of course, when I'm angry, I cry.

  I shudder out a breath, feeling my eyes fill up but willing myself to stay strong. I feel movement beside me and Easton lays down, curling his arm around my stomach.

  "They won't be botherin' you again." He says in a low, deadly tone.

  "Did I win or something?" I say in an attempt at humor.

  "No. But I always do." He must not have gotten my joke, his anger too powerful to crack through at this point.