40. Rose
Chapter 40
Rose
“But if my forces are not enough, I am hardly the one to relent...” ― Virgil
M innie was waiting on the back porch overlooking the lake, two cups of coffee on the small, wooden table in front of her.
“Hey.” I stepped out, taking a seat beside her. “Sorry, I had to take a shower. We were—”
“I know. I get it.” She laughed. “If Dean were here right now, I wouldn’t be out here. The man has more stamina than anyone else I’ve ever been with.”
I shifted the blanket I had wrapped around me and reached for the mug. Jasmine’s eyes grew wide. “What the fuck is on your wrists?”
“Nothing.” A sly smile tilted the corner of my mouth, and I took a sip to cover it.
“He better not be beating you, is he—oh, shit. He really is rough, isn’t he?” she whispered, glancing over her shoulder through the glass like he’d just pop up after having left over an hour ago.
I grinned more. “He already left.”
She tilted her mug in my direction. “You didn’t answer my question. I thought that broody behavior was just big dick energy, not that he’d take it out on you.”
I rolled my lips in and looked out at the water, covering my stupid smile with my blanket.
“Rose Heather Fields, you better tell me.”
“He is rough, but in a good way.” My teeth clamped down on my lower lip. “I kind of like it.”
She cackled—full-on belly laughed as she clutched onto her mug, trying not to spill it. “Knew it. Dean and I found a door that was locked, and we…kind of unlocked it.”
Warmth spread along my cheeks. “Excuse me?” Fuck, I wanted to hide under my blanket.
She arched a brow, smiling wickedly. “Your sex dungeon, Rose. We found it. ”
I almost spit my coffee out. “Why would you go looking around my house like that?”
“Psh, don’t act like one of those guest rooms isn’t permanently mine. Besides, who else are you going to talk to about being tied up on some workout equipment? Seriously thought I was stepping into a boxing gym, but nope.”
I sipped my coffee slowly, peering at her over the rim. “Fine. I also have these red marks on my ankles, if you’re that curious.”
She choked on her sip, then cleared her throat. “Okay, okay. Moving on.” Her face turned somber. “We haven’t talked a lot about what happened at the party. Are you doing okay? Like, really?”
I looked out over the mostly frozen water and gave a single nod. “Yeah. I think so.”
Her nails tapped along the table. “You know, I’m really glad he’s okay and that he put himself in front of you. That’s that kind of man you deserve, even if he does leave a shit ton of marks all over you.”
I giggled. “They go away. These are from this morning.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Anyway,” she said, dragging out the word. “You’ve been quiet. It’s not really like you.”
I fixated on her hands, unable to meet her eyes. “I know, I just…I have a lot of questions, and I don’t really know what to do with them.”
She straightened in her seat. “Talk to me. I’m here too, you know.”
“What was it like when you met Dean?”
A small smile formed on her lips. “It was great. It happened really fast, but we clicked instantly. Are you thinking Briggs maybe isn’t—”
“No, no. Nothing like that.” I tucked a few strands of hair behind my ear. “I meant the club. What was it like when you met him there? Did you see him doing anything?”
“Besides getting a lapdance?” She giggled, not a single hint of jealousy visible. “He was talking to a few other guys, not anything abnormal.”
“You said something was weird about that place. What was weird?”
“Honestly?” She rolled her burgundy-painted lips in. “They asked me a lot of questions. Ones that weren’t really normal for a job, but then again, I’d never stripped or…you know…worked at a gentlemen’s club before. I just needed the cash.”
I traced the top edge of my mug. “What questions?”
“They asked if I had any close relatives. I thought at first it was just conversation, but then after a few weeks of getting to meet some of the women, I realized I was one of the only ones who wasn’t orphaned or shunned by their family. Most of the women there were long forgotten and only had the club. It was like they preferred you to be singled out.”
I cocked my head. “Who do you mean when you say ‘they?’”
“The managers. Though they were kind of spotty, too. I’d gone through three rotations of managers before Dean told me to stop working there.” She huffed through a smile. “Possessive men problems.”
“He told you to stop working because… ”
She looked at me like I was insane. “Because he didn’t want some other dude’s hands on me. Do you think Briggs would allow you to work there?”
“Hell no.” Jasmine inclined her head knowingly, and I continued, “He told me I didn’t have to work in general, but he knows I want to. He’s helping me get a job at the Met.”
“See! That’s what I’m talking about. Someone who supports you and lets you be you. I take back what I said about taking you away from him. He’s golden.” I swallowed, pushing past the tears that threatened to escape. She was right. Briggs was golden, and he was all mine. “Oh! Did I tell you how scared August looked at the party? I’m willing to bet he shit his pants. What did your golden man do to him?” My heart sank to my stomach just thinking about that day. About August being so close and holding me against my will, even as I asked him to let go. Briggs was right—August was going to do terrible things to me had he not saved me. “Rose? You good?”
“Yeah, sorry.” I looked out over the water again, the edges of it covered in a thin layer of ice. “August hurt me too many times. If Briggs hadn’t found me, I’m not sure what would have happened.” That was a lie, but not one Minnie needed to think about. Not this early in the morning, at least.
Her dark, precisely trimmed brows pinched together. “Are you…are you sure you’re okay?”
I nodded, taking a deep breath. “Yeah, I’m okay. It was a lot at first to think August could ever be like that. He wasn’t always like that.”
“Yeah, he was an asshole, but not like…aggressively.” Her eyes washed over my body again. “He didn’t hurt you, right? ”
“Not like he probably planned to, no. Just made it hit home for me about how blind I’d been.”
The glass door slid open, and we both turned. Every inch of my skin froze, but not from the weather. Dean stepped out from behind a blonde woman, taking Jasmine’s hand and leading her back into the house before she could get a word out, the confusion lining her face making the moment more daunting.
And then it was just her and me. The woman’s eyes were hazel, the dark green swirls in them making it harder to pull my gaze away. She smiled at me, popping a faint dimple where barely-there makeup highlighted the rosiness in her cheeks. Rubbing her hands together, she took the seat Jasmine had been in before. “I’ve been there before—being blind to the nature of men.” Her laugh warmed a fraction of my skin. Not enough to let my guard down. “Really hope you aren’t talking about my son. You must be Rose.”