Wallflower

Chapter 68

The rising sun creeps onto the horizon, lighting the depths of Rose’s eyes the way I always knew it would.

After frolicking like a bunch of juveniles in the surf, I pulled a blanket from the duffle bag and spread it out on the sand.

There, beneath the rapidly disappearing stars, I told her every detail of the initial plan.

Her part in it as my way in, and why I’m not burning Bleakcrest to the ground.

It’s never been my intention. I relayed my worry about the subject.

How my team will be angry with me for taking over instead of abolishing it because I never told them the whole plan.

I expect Rose to be upset with me as well, but since we’re still looking for Chelsea, she’s tolerating it.

I’ll make her, as well as everyone else, see that it’s a smart move.

Not only did I just make a massive expansion from small drug ring leader to head of a criminal organization, but if I do it right, the workers will be willing and well taken care of.

Meaning, trafficking in my area will come to a stop.

I can have it all, I just have to play my cards right.

Honestly, I didn’t expect to get this far. Never in all my years of battling Maximus for every scrap he allowed, did anyone get one-up on him. I expected to be put down like a sick dog once he figured out who I was.

“So, was that all for show the first day?” she asks, infiltrating my worry.

“No,” I reply.

“So you really would’ve used my blood as lube?”

Inwardly cringing, I forgot I said that. “Yes, I would have. You didn’t mean something to me then. I wouldn’t do that to you now.”

“Why not?”

“Because the thought of hurting you makes me sick.”

“What if I asked you to?”

“I don’t know. That’s different, I guess.”

Rose rolls to her stomach, crawling closer as I prop myself up on my arm. “Would you cut me?”

“Would you like it?”

She shrugs. “I’m not opposed.”

I hear the resonance of her moans in my ear, and the feel of her slick, warm blood on my hands as I carve into her soft skin. If she wants it, I’ll deliver. Whether I detest it or not.

I haven’t hurt her, humiliated her, the way I have the others. Rose looks at me with so much trust and adoration, I can’t bear the thought of destroying it. I haven’t felt that fiery driving urge when I’m with her. The need for control, for retribution against someone I can’t confront.

“Wow,” she breathes. The sky explodes in a wash of oranges and pinks. It’s only a handful of moments before it dissipates back to the bright blue of early morning, but all I’m looking at is her.

Rose’s tired eyes drag away from the striking sunrise, locking with mine.

“Breakfast?” I query.

“Breakfast sounds great.”

Maple Jacks is a café that opens with the rising sun, ready to cater to all the early risers who swarm to the beach. It’s owned by a husband and wife team, two of the best people I know. I lead Rose toward it once we roll up the blanket and re-dress.

Rose glances up at me as we make our way across the beach, something on the tip of her tongue she isn’t sure she wants to let slip.

“What is it?” I ask.

“What?”

“Whatever’s got your lip begging for release from between your teeth.”

“It’s stupid.”

“Just because you think it’s stupid, doesn’t mean I will.”

Rose mulls over my words. Taking a few more steps before replying. “Do you really believe in that stuff?”

“You’re going to have to be more specific.”

“Krakens, and mermaids, and whatnot.”

“I think it would be ignorant of me to not believe there’s many things I don’t know or understand.” Like the way I feel about you.

“So… aliens?”

“Highly possible.”

“Bigfoot?”

“Not on this island, but completely plausible in the right environment.”

“The ships and planes that go missing in the middle of the ocean?”

“Obviously they fell into a portal.”

She beams up at me, an infectious smile blooming across her lips. I never would have guessed this was part of her make up. That somewhere inside, she likes the unexplainable and spooky.

Taking my hand in hers, Rose threads our fingers together.

The contact shoots me back to the small confined hallway of Bleakcrest, her cold touch sliding against my crimson palm.

My brother’s blood paints her skin, and I should feel like a piece of shit because of it, but I’m just shocked she’s comforted by my presence.

The contact grounds me now as I put one foot in front of the other, guiding us toward my favourite hidden gem on the island.

The seashell chime rings out when I swing the door open, guiding Rose in first. The spattering of the grill can be heard as bacon’s drool-worthy aroma floats through the space.

“Do you have a preferred spot?” Rose asks, causing something warm and gooey to slide through my body.

“How’d you know?”

“Just a hunch, lead the way.”

I steer us to the booth at the far side of the restaurant. The one with a perfect, unobstructed view of the beach, while keeping you out of the direct line of blinding sunlight. Rose slides in, shimmying across the vinyl, but I’m reluctant to release her hand to sit across from her.

“Are you going to sit?”

“Are you going to scooch over so I can?”

“You want to sit with me? On this side?”

“I’m waiting.”

“Isn’t that weird?”

“Do you think I care?”

Her face flushes the most perfect shade of bashful, as she slides farther in, making room for me. “You’re ridiculous,” she murmurs.

“No, I’m hungry.” Picking up the menu laid on the table, I pass it to her, already knowing what I want.

“Me too,” she replies. Relief swims through me. Thank fuck she’s eating. Rose plucks the breakfast menu from my fingers, opening it slowly. “What’s good here?” she asks.

“Everything.”

“What’s your favourite?”

A devilish smile threatens to appear, but I manage to suppress it. “The Big Island Breakfast.”

Her eyes scan the pamphlet, widening to saucers when they land on the description. “That sounds delicious, but I’d never finish it all.”

“If you want it, get it. Whatever you don’t eat we’ll take home for later. I don’t always finish either.”

“Are you sure?”

“Rose, get whatever you want.”

She flushes again, nibbling the skin of her lower lip. “Okay.”

Maple, the co-owner, approaches the table, face alight with curiosity when she clocks Rose next to me. “Beautiful morning, isn’t it, Mr. Morgan?”

“Yes, the view’s quite striking at the moment.” I cast a side-eye to Rose, who looks hot under the collar. She simultaneously wants to jump my bones and crawl under the table from embarrassment.

“Can we get—“

“Don’t you even think about ordering without introducing me to the first person you’ve ever brought in here.”

Rose leans forward, extending her slightly shaking hand. Mine slips from the table, landing on her thigh. The touch is meant to infuse comfort, but the hitch in her breath drags my mind to filthy fucking places. “I’m Rose,” she says clearly.

“Maple,” she replies, gripping Rose’s hand in a firm shake. “Where’s Ripley been hiding you?”

“Uhh…” Rose stammers.

“In my bed,” I interject, hoping to sidestep Rose’s nervousness.

Maple barks a laugh. “What’s so funny out there?” her husband’s voice calls out from the kitchen, head poking through the service window.

“Ripley!” He beams with his gap-tooth smile. “How ya been?”

“I’m good, Jack. What about you?”

“Maple’s cut me off from bacon. So, I’m dying a slow death.”

“I’m sure you sneak a piece here and there.”

“Shhh! Don’t tell her that!”

“It’s not like I’m an idiot, Jack. Especially when the grease is dripping from your damn chin!”

Jack darts from view, salt-and-pepper hair slipping behind the wall, hoping to avoid a scolding from his wife.

“Jack!” Maple calls.

“Whatcha need, love?”

She rolls her eyes, looking to Rose, “Don’t let this one sweet talk you.” She juts her chin at me. “He can be a smooth-talker.”

“Don’t I know it,” Rose laughs.

“Why am I under fire?”

“Because you’re a man,” Maple retorts. “Oh, Jack?”

“Yes, light of my life. What do you need?”

“Ripley’s got a date out here!”

“A date, you say? Who’d be foolish enough to smooch that gutter palate?”

My gaze swings to Rose, who’s working really hard to smother her laughter. Fuck, she’s gorgeous.

“Come see for yourself!”

Jack re-emerges from the back, kitchen doors swinging behind him, pulling my attention.

“You got a little…” I say, rubbing the corner of my mouth.

Jack picks up on the gesture, wiping the bacon grease from his lips while Maple scowls.

Risking his life, he sidles up next to his wife. A quick peck to her cheek melts her cold expression, and stars dance in her eyes.

Is that what love is supposed to look like? Warm, unending adoration and devotion? Not a snarling, ugly beast upon your chest?

Jack and Maple have been together since their adolescent years, and are nearing their mid-fifties together.

The only day of the year they close the cafe is their anniversary, having vowed to spend it together until the end of their days.

Any other special occasions they share with the island folk, claiming celebration and joy should be felt by all.

But their love, it’s just for them. Even if it’s infused itself into the very walls of this small café they share, and leaks out into the air around us now.

Jack finally drags his gaze away from Maple, sweeping it over me to Rose. “She’s not from around here. Where did you find her, son?”

My gaze darts to Maple. With a slight shake of her head, she tells me to ignore the slip-up.

Their son passed away on a fishing trip three years ago.

One of the notorious island storms swept in like a wrecking ball, capsizing the boat with its whipping winds and towering waves, leaving nothing but the scraps of the ship floating amongst the jagged rocks when it dissipated.

Every now and then, Jack drops an endearment.

It doesn’t bother me, as these two are the closest thing I’ve ever had to parental figures.

But it cuts like a deadly blade against the weak spots in Maple’s armour.

Looking to Jack, I let loose a big smile, wrapping my arm around Rose’s shoulders and tugging her close. “She was on that cruise that came through not too long ago.” Rose’s shocked gaze swings to mine. “I saw her step off the gangway, and just had to meet her.”

With a lazy grin, I turn her way. The heat in her eyes could melt my cock right off, and suddenly I’m not hungry for anything but her. If I had to hazard a guess, she feels the same.

“That sounds lovely,” Maple says.

“Yeah, simply meant to be,” Jack smiles.

“It’s not that sweet…” Rose pipes up. All gazes shoot to her, shock on every face. “I thought I had a stalker.”

The two café owners break out laughing, and I pull Rose close, planting a swift kiss on her temple.

“What can I get you two to eat?” Maple finally asks.

“Rose wants the Big Island Breakfast, with a coffee.” Maple jots it down on her note pad, then looks to me. “I’ll have toast, with a side of your homemade jam, and coffee as well.”

Rose’s death glare burns the side of my face, as Maple tears off the order and passes it to Jack. “Your food will be out soon,” Maple calls out, following her husband back to the kitchen.

Rose lands a hard swat to my chest, and the laughter I’ve been holding in so long my gut aches, finally breaks free.

“You tell me to order the biggest fucking meal on the menu, and you order toast. Toast!” she hisses, and I about piss myself laughing.

She picks up the discarded menu, hitting me with it before reading aloud the whole serving.

“Four eggs, four pieces of crisp bacon, three breakfast sausages, two pieces of back bacon, four fried pineapple circles, hash browns, and toast. Upgrade to pancakes, waffles, or French toast for an added $1.50.”

“Did you want to upgrade? Is that why you keep hitting me?”

“No, you ass. I keep hitting you because I look like a whale sucking down everything in my path, while you eat fucking toast.”

“Want to share?”

“Want to share?” she mocks. It’s so stupidly cute my heart trips over its stumbling beats. “No, you ordered toast, live with it. I’ll enjoy the delicious meal by myself.”

My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I doubt it’s Shantel. “One sec, flower.”

Bucky’s name lights up the screen, and I see Rose’s eyes glow with hope. Fuck, I don’t have the heart to tell her again that Bucky’s found nothing.

Pressing the button, I raise it to my ear. “Yeah?” I answer, as Rose leans closer.

“I’m not calling too early, am I?”

“No, the sun’s been up for a while, you’re good.”

“Are you planning on coming by today?”

“Where are you? The warehouse or Bleakcrest?”

“I’m home right now, but heading back to the hell hole later.”

“Want me to meet you there?”

“Sure. Within the hour?”

“Give or take, yeah. Just have to drop Rose off first.”

“Sounds good, see you then.”

Bucky ends the call, and I slip the phone back into my pocket. Rose deflates, and I’m sure her appetite goes with it.

“Bucky won’t say anything over the phone, especially if he knows I’m out.”

“How would he know where you are?”

“We all share our locations with each other.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t want to give you hope, but I hate seeing you so sad.”

Rose smiles, fake and half-assed, cutting me deeper than Maximus’s knife did.

Maple emerges from the kitchen, a massive platter balanced on one hand, my small plate of toast in the other. Rose’s annoyance with me flares to life once more at the sight. Well, that’s better than sadness.

The plates are placed before us, Maple making quick work of pouring the fresh coffee before departing. “Enjoy your meal,” she calls behind her, “holler if you need anything.”

“Will do, thank you,” I respond, not wanting to be rude.

I look from my plate to Rose’s, the difference is beyond comical.

Picking up my coffee, I breathe in its awakening scent. Rose’s voice breaks the silence, quiet and hesitant. “I want to come with you.”