Poisoned Rose (Dark Roses #1) (3 page)

Four

              Aurora woke to find herself covered with a blanket.  She looked around, rubbed the sleep from her eye and realized she had fallen asleep in the theatre room.  Her nightmares had been intense and even though she was awake, she still felt a tingling fear in the back of her mind.  She checked her watch; it was just past four in the morning.  The selection menu of the movie was up on the screen, letting her know that Vince had either fallen asleep too, or had left before the end.  Since she was alone, she assumed it was the latter and stretched her legs with a groan.  She yawned and pulled the blanket up to her chin, getting ready to go back to sleep when cries erupted from the second floor lounge room.  She struggled to untangle herself from the blanket, stumbling as she tried to run up the stairs and swearing as she landed on her knees.  What the hell was going on?

              Bursting into the foyer she raced up the staircase and down the hall only to freeze at the double doors.  Her entire family was in the room.  Dante was slumped on a couch with his head in his hands but looked up at her when she walked in.  His eyes were blood shot and wet with unshed tears.  He was still in his clothes from the night before and even from that distance she could smell the alcohol on his breath and see the bite marks on his neck, the telltale signs of a messy night out.  Had he done something her father couldn’t fix?

              Johnny was barefoot and shirtless, leaning against the wall with a cigarette in his right hand and smoke trailing out from between his lips.  He looked stressed but not angry.  If Dante had gotten into trouble Johnny would be raging.  Vince was sitting beside their mother, attempting to console her as she wept, and her father was standing at the window with his back to her.  If anyone was going to tell her what was going on, it was going to be him.  But somewhere, deep down in her psyche, something told her that she didn’t want to know.  It told her to turn around and walk away while she still could, before she found out whatever it was that she knew would change her life forever.  But she never ran away.

              ‘Dad?’

              When her father turned around, the sorrow in his eyes was like no emotion she had ever seen cross his face.  He looked tormented, like a man whose demons had embedded their claws through to his very bones.  At the same time, her mother stopped crying and looked up, using her palms to wipe away her tears.

              ‘What’s going on?’

              Her words came out rough and choked, fear lacing every syllable.  As her mother started to whimper, Dante put his head back down and Vince stood up to take her in his arms.  Taken aback by the intensity of his embrace, she held onto his biceps and sought out her father over his shoulder.

              ‘Maybe you should sit down.’

              Vince whispered into her ear as he cradled the back of her head in one hand, his other wrapped around her waist.  But she shook her head and pushed back.

              ‘No I don’t need to sit down, I need to know what the hell is going on!’

              If they didn’t tell her what had happened in the next couple of minutes she would lose control.  Vince was the brother she was closest to and it wasn’t rare for them to hug, but the way he was holding her was different.  It was fierce, as if he was trying to hold her body together.  Just as she thought she would explode from the silence, her father sighed.

              ‘Michael’s dead.’

              Her mouth went dry.  There was no way her father had just told her that Mike was dead.  Her fear and anger were causing her to create scenarios in her head and voice them through her father’s lips.  She needed to calm down and listen to what her father was saying.

              ‘What did you say?’

              ‘A couple of hours ago, Michael and his friends were asked to leave a club.  They were grabbed when they walked out and forced into a side alley.  They executed him.  One shot to the head.’

              Her knees buckled and Vince took her full weight in his arms, holding her head close to his and turning to press his lips against her hair.  For a moment she could do nothing but stare back at her father with her mouth open.

              ‘I’m so sorry.’

              An anguished cry escaped her lips as she felt the warmth of Vince’s tears against the side of her face.  She started to shake in his arms.  She couldn’t breathe, there was no air left in the room.  Her tears overrode her brother’s, and she continued to cry out in pain as she battered against his chest and biceps. But Vince refused to let her go and she gave up struggling, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her head in the crook of his neck.

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              The sun beat down on the mourners and Calvary Cemetery was crowded. There were so many people yet so few that were friends.  Aurora knew who was there for Mike and his family, and who was there to pay their respects to her father.  They were the ones who looked like they belonged on the red carpet of a Hollywood premiere, and it made her sick.  The men were weighed down with gold and dressed in designer suits, their hair slicked back and their expressions blank.  The women were even more extravagant, decked out in skin tight dresses and skyscraper stilettos, their hair sprayed and styled.  They all wore large sunglasses encrusted with crystals, and an array of diamonds and precious jewels iced every inch of their wrists, chests, ears and fingers.  In their left hand they clutched thousand dollar handbags, and in their right, a cell that many were using to text even while Mike’s coffin was being lowered.

              She knew they didn’t care about Mike.  What they did care about was being seen to care, because if they were seen to care, they were thought to be a friend or acquaintance.  If they were seen to care, they showed they valued the relationship they had with her father and his associates.  But most importantly, if they were seen to care, they kept up the pretense that they weren’t the one who gave the order or pulled the trigger that killed Mike.

              After her meltdown, she had come to realize that she had spent the last day of Mike’s life planning on breaking up with him.  While that was something she could never change, she became determined to find out who was behind his murder.  Rage had replaced sorrow and she’d found herself unable to cry, her body tense and her mind obsessed with thoughts of what she would do when she found the bastards.

              Following the burial there was catering at the Evans’ household, where people offered their final prayers and words of comfort.  His parent’s had covered all the mirrors in the house and stopped the clocks, superstitions she was surprised to find they believed in.  Mike’s photo was on the wall, above the table filled with food, and some of his award winning artwork was on display, the warmth and beauty of his paintings juxtaposed with the sorrow within the room.  She excused herself to go to the bathroom but as she was walking down the corridor, Austin pulled her aside.  After the required condolences and offers of support, he took her hand.

              ‘Before Mike died, he told me to tell you that… he was sorry.’

              She shook her head. What did Mike have to be sorry about?

              ‘Are you sure that’s what he said?’

              Austin admitted that he thought it was strange and that even though he’d been throwing up at the time, those were Mike’s final words.  With nothing left to say and no way to gain clarity over the situation, she thanked him and headed back towards the lounge room, her trip to the bathroom forgotten.  After the last guest had left, her parents approached Mike’s family.  Austin had let everyone know the message Mike’s killers had left, that his murder was ‘just the beginning.’  But unlike her family, his had no idea what it meant.  They hugged and parted ways.  Her brothers went next and then it was her turn to say goodbye.

              ‘We’re always going to love you Roar, don’t ever forget that.’

              Mike’s mother hugged her.  They were moving to Arizona the next day.  They weren’t putting their house up for sale, but they weren’t planning on returning to L.A anytime soon.  Aurora managed to whisper a soft response before turning to look at Eve.  Mike’s sister took a deep breath before throwing her arms around Aurora.  No words were exchanged when they pulled away and Aurora allowed Vince to take her hand and lead her to the car.

              They drove back in silence but once they were inside the front door, she watched her father toss his keys on a side table and loosen his tie.  He’d taken out his cell and was heading for his study when she felt something inside her shift.

              ‘This is your fault.’

              The words were spoken with a vehemence that caused everyone to turn and stare.  She began to walk towards him.

              ‘Aurora.’

              Johnny’s firm voice tried to stop her, her name used as a simple warning to quit before she did any damage she couldn’t undo.

              ‘This is just the beginning? Do you expect me to believe that that warning wasn’t meant for you? Tell me dad, how does it feel knowing that an innocent man, a man who played no role in your world, was shot in the back of his fucking head because of you?  That his brains were splattered all over the road, and that his brother tried to commit suicide because he blames himself? Well I’ll tell you how I feel.  I feel sick.  I feel disgusted knowing I have a lying, cold hearted bastard for a father.  I don’t want to talk to you ever again.  If you pass me in this house I will look the other way.  If you walk into a room, I will walk out.  I hate you.  Do you understand that? I hate you!’

              She was screaming by the end and Vince was holding her back.  Her father said nothing, dropped his head and walked to his study.  He paused, then entered and closed the door behind him.  He didn’t look back.

Five

              Hawk got home from the funeral, took off his blazer and threw it on his bed, then started unbuttoning his shirt.  But when he reached the last button instead of taking it off he stood with his hands on his hips taking deep breaths.  One… Two… Three… Nope.

              He turned and punched the wall, letting out a wordless roar before resting his head against the cool brick and attempting to control himself.  He’d let assassinations play out before without giving them a second thought, and he knew he shouldn’t care, but he did, and the reason he cared disgusted him.  He groaned and just as he was about to head to the shower, he heard the click clack of stilettos marching up the marble steps and striding down the corridor.  He knew it was Halo before her jeweled knuckles rapped on his door, the efficient, high pitched knocks slashing through his thoughts and demanding his attention.  He considered not opening the doors as she called out his name.  But he knew she wouldn’t go away and there was no point delaying the inevitable.  He ran a hand through his hair and opened his door.

              ‘We didn’t know.’

              She spoke the words in a matter-of-fact tone but he knew that the thought of him caring left her with a nasty aftertaste.  He knew how he was expected to respond, but what he wanted to do was tell her to go to hell.  His father wouldn’t have stopped the murder.  He may have warned Tony, but he wouldn’t have used his own resources.  But that wasn’t what pissed Hawk off.  It was the fact that even though they didn’t know before the murder, they would have found out before the funeral, and letting him walk into a situation where he had to work overtime to control his emotions, was them playing with his head.  It was his father reminding him who was boss.  But instead of telling Halo exactly what she could do with her message, he responded how he was supposed to.

              ‘Ok. Anything else?’

              She looked disappointed.  It was obvious that she had been itching for a chance to patronize him, the condescending smile already playing at the edge of her lips.  Instead, she looked him up and down and scoffed, turning on her heel and strutting back down the corridor, closing the doors to her room behind her when he had no doubt she wanted to slam them.  He swung his door shut and stalked past his mirror, refusing to look at himself.  Once inside his bathroom, he turned on the shower and stripped.  He let the water get to scorching before stepping under the spray, hissing as it hit his body.  He braced his hands on the wall and bowed his head, letting the water run down his back and feeling it warm his muscles.  It dripped into his eyes but he kept them open, staring at the cream tiles, his mind a million miles away.

              After receiving the funeral notice, Mario had called them into his office and said they’d be required to attend a funeral for an ‘acquaintance’.  Hawk and Honor had been pissed off, they’d had things to do and their father knew that.  They’d argued until the boss yelled that the topic was not up for discussion.  After that they’d stalked out of the office and gone straight to training to take it out on their soldiers.  They had missed the church service as a matter of principle, earning them warnings from Halo to tread lightly when they got to the cemetery.  They arrived just after their father and took their places behind him, Hawk on the left and Honor on the right, while Halo stood beside him.  Every other boss in attendance could be identified by the same constellation.

              Hawk had expected to stand with his father and run through Family figures in his head while the priest talked.  He’d expected to shake hands with the family of the deceased and offer his condolences.  What he hadn’t expected was to find the only person he would ever love burying the only person she had ever loved.  Just like every time he saw Aurora, his heart caught in his throat and he scowled, knowing he looked like a bastard but reassuring himself that it was better than the alternative.  But Hawk felt like he was five again and she’d just been born, making her a promise he’d never forget.

              She was as beautiful as ever, but it was her eyes that gripped him and left him speechless every time.  They were a green like none he had ever come across, a color somewhere between an emerald and a yellow sapphire. He had been right, they hadn’t changed from the time she was born. As much as he tried, he could never forget how incredible they were.  Then the priest stopped talking and the casket began its slow decent into the ground.  Vince had handed her a rose and at the moment she threw it in Hawk could see that her heart hadn’t broken; it had turned black.  He couldn’t let the darkness consume her.  He wanted to live up to the promise he’d made her over two decades earlier.  He would protect her, he would right all wrongs committed against her so she would never have to herself.  But she was not his to protect and he only had himself to blame.  There she was, a woman he had been adamant in keeping out of his life, burying her fiancé.  She had given her heart to the man in the coffin and knowing that made Hawk more jealous than he ever imagined he could be.  He was disgusted with himself.

              The water started to cool and he realized he had been standing there for half an hour.  He washed himself and stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his hips.  The air was thick with steam and he wiped the mirror with his palm, bracing himself on the marble sink to look at his reflection.  She would never be his; that was a decision he had made years earlier.  He wasn’t the same person who had made that promise.  He was a broken man whose actions would one day destroy him, and he vowed yet again that he would stay away from Aurora, even if it killed him.