Roses & Thorns: Women Read online

  “I'm sorry,” she laughs softly. “It’s just… well, it was really funny hearing him call you sis when I knew you were really his sister.”

  She looks up at Rose amused, but also a little worried. Rose looks at her softly. I'm pretty sure it’s impossible to be offended by Lacey when she’s like this. That damn giggle.

  “Okay you all have your fun,” Rose teases, before turning back to Nix. “I'm glad you’re back, but if you ever leave without giving me a heads up again I’ll kick your ass.”

  With that, she stomps out of the room, throwing one last soft look at Lacey before walking out. Nix looks between me and Lacey, an uncharacteristically serious look on his face.

  “You hurt her…”

  “Don’t bother finishing that statement.”

  He completely ignores me.

  “You hurt her and I will find a way to hurt you myself.”

  Before I can react he’s trudging out of the room. I feel fury vibrating through my veins, thirsting for retribution. That is before I look at Lacey. She is looking at her feet with a small smile, eyes glistening. My fiery heart simmers down to a dull flame. She’s touched. She’s touched he cares about her enough to stand up to me. I can’t make him pay now. Not without hurting Lacey.

  “Come here,” I say, extending an arm.

  Lacey doesn’t hesitate. She comes over and snuggles her head into my chest. Her sweatshirt brushes up against my chin.

  “Love you,” I whisper.

  I can almost feel her heart swelling against me.

  “I love you too sir.”

  I kiss her forehead.

  “You can think of a nickname for me or something. You don’t have to call me sir every time we’re in public.”

  Her lip twitches. Oh, Jesus. She pulls away from me with a playful smile, grey eyes dancing with amusement.

  “Boss?”

  I swat at her head as the room fills with her unbridled laughter.

  “Definitely don’t call me that.”

  * * *

  A day passes easily. Sven checks in. He needs more time. I give it after he explains his reasoning. I’ve been soft with him. No more. It’s not right for either one of us. He’s better than what he’s been giving me, and I want it all. How do I make a man like him step up to the plate? Threaten what he cares about most.

  His life.

  In doing that, he can’t protect Rose, and he knows with him gone, I won’t. Or if I did decide to protect her for Lacey, it’d be half ass.

  I'm on the phone, talking about God only knows what. Some legal business shit.

  “Ten grand or nothing. I don’t fucking negotiate with people who have nothing to offer…”

  Bang. Bang. The sound of punching interrupts my thoughts. My heart goes to my throat. If that’s Lacey again I don’t know what I’ll do. I’ve increased her therapy sessions, the psychiatrist has visited and changed her meds to help her cope. Fuck. Fuck.

  “I’ll call you back,” I snap, hang up and bolt off.

  Heart hammering in my chest, I throw the double doors to the boxing gym open. I instantly freeze.

  “You got it, Lacey. Good job.”

  When the doors bang against the back wall both of them turn around. Lacey jumps and Nix calmly swirls around. Nix is in a white tank, bruised and cut arms hanging out, shaggy dirty blonde hair in his face. Lacey is in a sweatshirt, grey sweats, and tennis shoes, face beet red, panting and sweating out of her mind. This room is already warm. I can’t imagine wearing a sweat outfit on top of that.

  “Hi,” she pants, dropping to put her hands on her knees. A total irrational pang of jealousy shoots through me. I'm only able to manage this because, one, Nix is not single, and, two, Lacey is still in her sweatshirt. She’s not comfortable enough to show him anything more than what she shows everybody else. I want her to be comfortable taking it off, but I’d highly prefer if her first time wasn’t with another man.

  “What’s going on here?”

  Nix see’s the tension in my shoulders, Lacey is too busy trying to breathe.

  “First,” Nix says, not one to ignore anything, “Calm the hell down. I was down here, getting some shit out on the bags, and Lacey heard me. She walked in and started silently watching.”

  I flick my gaze over to Lacey.

  “I noticed she was subtly mimicking my motions, trying to learn them, so I offered to help her out. We’ve been practicing since then.”

  He cocks an eyebrow, mocking how possessive and jealous I feel right now. Damn it all to hell. I hate and respect this guy.

  “You want to learn to fight?” I ask, turning to Lacey.

  Of course she does. I should have thought of this sooner.

  She nods slowly, avoiding eye contact.

  “I think that’s great.”

  I encourage anything that brings her confidence and security in this world.

  “Really?” She lifts her gaze and smiles. “You think so?”

  “Yes, of course. I’ll help you. I have a trainer. He’s extremely good at his job and is trained in several different styles of martial arts. If this is something you really want.”

  “Really? You would?”

  Her eyes go wider. I glance at Nix. He gives me a subtle nod. A look between men. Good call man.

  “Yes, he’s on call to train with me when needed. I could call him. Hire him to train you as well.”

  “You’d let me train with the same guy who trains you!”

  She’s practically jumping out of her skin with excitement.

  Both Nix and I’s eyes light up. I throw a mask on to get her competitive nature going. The one I know she has and buries. I cock an eyebrow.

  “Yeah, I think you’re strong enough to handle it. What do you think?”

  “I totally am!”

  I throw my head back and laugh. “Well, we’ll see, won’t we?”

  “When will you call him?”

  “Whenever you want.”

  “I mean, how long do I have to wait?”

  I shake my head.

  “Lace, if I demanded it, he’d be here in ten minutes. You always forget who I am.”

  Nix stands, always with an eye on me. He hasn’t forgotten who I am or what I'm capable of.

  “I don’t want you to demand something of him Boss.”

  She turns to glare at me. There’s that lack of naivety that makes her so perfect.

  “When I say demand I meant it literally. No threats involved.”

  She narrows her eyes at me, not trusting.

  “You have my word.”

  “Alright. Can he come… today. Soon. As soon as he can.”

  “Today?” I ask, shocked. “Lacey, you’re gonna get heat stroke.”

  “I have to agree with him there kid. How about tomorrow?” Nix cuts in.

  “No!”

  Both of us jolt. It’s always a shock when she goes from shy to demanding.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to shout, just… if it’s possible I want to learn as much as I can as fast as I can.”

  I search her eyes. There’s more. I’ll ask her later.

  “Alright Lace, but I have a condition.”

  I push off the ground and walk to her. I block her from Nix’s view because I knew she’s gonna panic.

  “Sweatshirt comes off. I’ll grab you a t-shirt, but you aren’t passing out from heat exhaustion under my watch.”

  Plus, it’s a good way to motivate her to stop hiding behind layers of fabric. Her gruesome self-harm scars are healing. The cuts she carved into words are no longer clear unless you really look.

  “No!” she screeches, leaping back.

  “Isn’t learning to fight about taking your power back? It’s just me and Nix here. I’ve seen you and Nix would never judge you.”

  All traces of happiness vanish. She’s staring at the two of us like a deer caught in headlights.

  “Sage has PTSD kid. A few scars too. I promise I would never judge you.”

  Nix lets some of
the kindness I know he carries seep into his eyes. He looks so sad for her as she chokes on a sob.

  “You’re crying because you know we’re right and you’re scared.”

  She nods, up and down, up and down, quickly and quietly.

  I walk over and wrap my arms around her.

  “You got something on underneath this time?” I whisper.

  “I always have a t-shirt on underneath during the day. I was going to bed then.”

  “Okay.”

  I slowly lift the sweatshirt over her head. She goes stiff, her breath goes steady. It’s like undressing a doll. I take a deep breath. I’ll get this off first, then deal with that. The sweatshirt slips off easily, revealing a Harley t-shirt. I want to chuckle at that. My girl.

  Lacey’s still as a board, staring at nothing. Nix looks alarmed, but not just by her body. No, he also seems alarmed by how quickly she’s shut down. All the things that make Lacey Lacey have vanished, leaving a shell in her place.

  “Lacey, can you hear me?”

  She looks at me, but there’s no one home. Her eyes are completely empty. I have to do something. The obvious answer hits me like a ton of bricks. Just what we discussed… I dial the boxing/krav maga instructors number and hit speaker.

  “Cut,” I say firmly into the phone.

  “What do you need?”

  “Got someone who wants to speak with you.”

  I turn the phone to Lacey and look at her, eyebrows raised. God, I hope this works. Lacey’s eyes flicker with emotion, but her body remains stiff. I'm freaking out hoping I didn’t push her too far. She was just starting to come out of her shell. What if I pushed her right back in that protective cocoon? It’s just me and Nix here. I try and remind myself of that. I wasn’t being an asshole.

  “Hello? Anyone home?” Cut calls, clearly annoyed. He’s not a patient guy. In fact, he’s a ruthless fuck. Getting him to team with me was a feat, but I have my ways.

  “Talk Lacey. If you want this. You have to fight for it. I know you can.”

  A spark flickers in her eyes. I give her a small nod. Come on Lace.

  “I…”

  She struggles. It’s like she has to reboot her whole system, bring herself from death to life. She talks a deep breath. I can almost feel Cuts annoyance on the other end of the phone, but too damn bad. He’ll like Lacey when he meets her. He’s not as cruel as he likes to believe he is.

  “I need you to train me,” she blurts out into the speaker.

  “You got a girl?” Cut asks me, unable to hide his shock.

  “Yes.”

  Lacey blushes and shoots me one of those tiny smiles through her hair. Why would I hide the fact she’s mine? She’s fucking amazing.

  “... and she wants to learn to fight.”

  “I don’t train women. You know this.”

  I'm ready to demand he give her a shot, but Lacey cuts me off. Does she want to earn this herself? Okay then. She snatches the phone from my hand.

  “There’s nothing you could do to me that hasn’t already been done.”

  Woah, that’s harsh but she says it so calmly. Her eyes, on the other hand, are blazing.

  “I'm not here to make you look good in a bikini girl.”

  Lacey huffs. She’s so offended right now. He clearly does not know Lacey.

  “I don’t wear bikinis. No, thank you. Someone would have to be literally holding me down to get me into a bikini. I want to learn to fight. To protect myself. I never asked you to go easy on me because of my sex. You assumed that. You know what they say about assumptions.”

  Damn.

  There’s a long silence on the other end of the line. It continues on and on. I can feel Lacey bristling inside.

  “When do you want me there?” he finally says.

  It takes me a solid minute to respond. Cut is not easy to reason with and Lacey did it in two seconds flat. I look at her in shock. How the hell does she do all this so easily?

  “Uh,” I clear my throat. “Now.”

  “Alright. You got quite a woman there.”

  “I know.” I'm well aware.

  I hang up the phone and look between Lacey and Nix. Lacey moves from the mat and slides to the floor, resting her arms on her knees.

  “I think I just handled that.”

  “That you did little dove,” I chuckle, glancing at Nix. “I'm impressed. Cut’s no pussy.”

  “Not with a name like Cut,” she whispers.

  I grit my teeth. “Lace, he’s tough. Really fucking tough.”

  “I want that.”

  “I respect you, and I think this will be good for you. Just be careful. He’s ruthless and cruel, but not heartless. If it’s really too much, tell him. Be sincere. He’ll tone it down.”

  “Alright.”

  From her tone, I can tell she’d rather die than have him ‘tone it down’. I trust her and I trust him so I try and swallow the uncharacteristic anxiety swelling through me. The only assurance I have about the whole arrangement is I think they’ll bond. I think he’ll be able to help her in a way I can’t. See, his name isn’t Cut for nothing. He was taken, tortured and cut to shreds with a knife when he was an early teen for one of his best friends. Some chick he was friends with since he was in diapers fell in with the wrong crowd and sold drugs. I can try and understand the shame Lacey carries because of her scars, but I can’t. Not really. My scars are all battle wounds. Fairly minor comparatively speaking. I can’t understand, and to pretend to would be insulting. Cut, on the other hand, he built himself up so tough because of them. He buried the shame under grit. Lacey’s still drowning in hers. Maybe, just maybe, he can give her some of her confidence back using the tools he used. He’s gonna fucking kill me when he sees her scars, knowing what I'm thinking. Luckily, Lacey as no clue and genuinely wants to fight. That’ll probably save my ass.

  Nix is leaning against the wall. Silent. Observing. Several minutes later he pushes off and goes to Lacey, crouching in front of her. She jumps to cover herself. She goes as far as to pull her arms into her t-shirt.

  “Not so close Nix,” she whispers. The tough girl who just told Cut off in two seconds flat is gone. She tries to hide it, but I see the way she shakes, the shame she’s trying to hide. Nix looks at her sadly.

  “Hey, kid. I think you’re good here. You’re getting a much better teacher than me,” he winks. “Am I good to go?”

  Nix’s defensive mechanism: humor, charm.

  “Yes. Thank you so much, Nix.”

  She gives his arm a gentle squeeze to try and show her gratitude. He winks and turns to the door.

  “Anytime sweetheart.”

  He opens the door, walks out and shuts it without addressing me. He’s bold. I’ll

  give him that.

  As soon as he’s gone Lacey scrambles for her sweatshirt.

  “Woah,” I say, running over and stepping on the sleeve as she frantically tries to pull it out from under me.

  “Seriously move!” she yells. “He’ll be here soon!”

  “You’re training with it off. Especially with Cut here. No way in hell you can train as intensely as you will with him in a fucking sweatshirt. You’re lucky I'm not grabbing you shorts to match.”

  “Please move! Please, I'm begging you.”

  “I promise you Cut won’t care.”

  “Won’t care about what?” a deep voice says from behind us.

  I glance up to see Cut standing in the doorway. He cocks an eyebrow when he sees the scene in front of him; me stepping on a sweatshirt, Lacey on the floor desperately tugging at it. Lacey pales. Cut has clearance to enter the gates, the restroom, and this room. He doesn’t need approval for that, but if he went anywhere else, other than the restroom across the hall, he’s dead.

  Lacey’s still on the floor, on all fours, tugging at the sweatshirt. I'm stepping on it. We look ridiculous. Scared Lacey will snatch it if I step off, I lean down and bring her to her feet. She glares at me and pulls free, finding a safe spot in the corne
r, wrapping her arms around her chest.

  Cut looks her up and down in a clinical way.

  “What the fuck are you doing in sweatpants?”

  He turns to me.

  “Have someone grab her shorts. She’ll pass out.”

  Lacey has finally stopped staring at the sweatshirt and looked at Cut. This scars that lace his body rival only Lacey’s. They’re severe and more than apparent. Most people in this house have scars, but his are deep, ragged and raw all over his body. Lacey’s eyes widen in shock. I know she never expected to meet somebody like her, doomed to a fate where her scars were out there for the world to see. He was the last thing she expected. She expected one of my men, a put together ruthless follower. He’s the furthest thing from my men.

  “I won’t pass out,” she squeaks.

  Not giving one, apparent, fuck about her scars he continues.

  “Yes, you will.” He turns to me with a pointed stare. “Shorts.”

  Giving Lacey the most encouraging look I can, I pull out my phone and rattle off the text.

  “I won’t wear them!” Lacey shouts, definitely.

  “Care to say why?” Cut asks, casually, in his leather jacket and training pants. All 6 foot, whatever inches, well over 250 pounds of him is standing there, eyebrows raised, waiting for Lacey’s answer.

  “No.”

  “Then get ready to change.”

  He grabs his bag off the floor.

  “I'm gonna get prepped.”

  With that, he leaves Lacey and me alone.

  “I'm not wearing them!”

  Her arms cross tighter over her chest.

  “You can take that up with Cut.”

  “Oh, I plan to!”

  At the mention of his name, she softens instantly.

  “What happened to him?” she whispers.

  “His story to tell, not mine.”

  She nods in understanding.

  “Want me to go or stay?”

  “You have work don’t you?”

  “Yes,” I say honestly, “but if you need me to stay until you get used to him, I'm here.”

  “No, go. You have important stuff to do. I can tell. You’re tapping your left foot and running your fingers over the back of your phone.”

  She nods towards me.

  “You do that when you have something important to do.”