Love Hurts: The Killing of Rose
Love Hurts: The Killing of Rose
Love Hurts: The Killing of Rose
Midpoint
Love Hurts
The Killing of Rose
By Holly Hood
Also by Holly Hood
Wingless Book Series:
Wingless V.1
Polar V. 2
Scattered and Broken V.3
Prison of Paradise V.4
Letters to You V.5
Back to Life V.6
Ink
Love hurts
The killing of Rose
Volume 1
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used factiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. Do not duplicate or distribute without the permission of the author.
Copyright © 2011 by Holly Hood
Artwork by © olly - Fotolia.com
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, places or things living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.
For my family, with gratitude and love.
Love hurts
The killing of Rose
Acknowledgments
Big thanks to everyone. It’s simple to pick a select few to thank. But this time I will say thank you to everyone, readers, family, friends, life, and god. Thank you for inspiring me.
I hope everyone enjoys this series. It’s my second, and I am really looking forward to giving Wingless a run for its money with this one.
And to Mom jr, Keep on fighting!
The killing of Rose
Soft yellow light streamed through the tall windows of the diner. The sun was close to disappearing all together. The last of the patrons finished up their cobblers and coffees and even they were packing up to leave.
Rose hummed a soft tune as she busily swiped the counters with an old rag making fast circles in hopes of getting home before her boyfriend. She wanted to clean up a little before he got there, she hated for him to see her in her work clothes.
The final chime echoed the desolate confines of the diner. Rose looked around as she untied her apron. She was tired. But she still had to make the long drive to the country where she lived. It took her thirty minutes on a good day to make it home.
Rose slung her apron over a box, her high heels clicking ever so gently against the concrete floor of the restaurant. That’s when she saw him. The image was enough to set her heart into a million fluttery beats. She stumbled backwards completely shocked.
“You’re not supposed to be in here.” She told Sam. Sam was only supposed to be a fling. A onetime mistake that she regretted every day since it had happened. She knew from the beginning she would live to regret the day she involved herself with Sam there was just something off about him.
Sam wasn’t wasting anytime. He grabbed hold of Rose’s wrist yanking her into the back room of the diner. The room they kept all the non perishables. He was there for a reason. Sam was angry. Angry that Rose had shunned him so many times before after the night they had together. But now he had his moment to make her pay for ignoring him for so many months.
He wanted to be with her but he didn’t understand why. His head was so filled with confusion after Rose. Rose had to be his. But she never saw it the same way that Sam did. So now he just wanted to get rid of her.
Brandishing a large knife—the kind he carried in his pocket on a daily basis. He stepped forward, her arm yanking his violently as she struggled to break free—but she never was going to get loose, Sam was much stronger then Rose. Rose was a petite girl and Sam had a good hundred plus pounds on her. He brought the knife to her throat, his heart egging him on, the adrenaline coursing through his veins was exciting him more then he thought it would.
“Rose, why won’t you just be mine,” Sam whispered in her ear, his rough chin prickling her flesh from his lack of shaving. He smelled like a brewery.
Rose pulled at his arm, searing her nails into his flesh. “Let me go, Sam,” she pleaded, but it was no use. Sam had his mind made up and she knew this. She could feel it.
The cold metal ripped through her flesh quickly. Rose cried out in agony as she felt something warm evading her undershirt. She gasped, first staring down at her bloody hands and then back up to Sam. The knife crashed to the ground with a clang and that was the only thing she could hear anymore. She feared it would be the last thing she heard.
“I wanted you to love me like you do Tad. But you didn’t love me and you never will. So now I want you to die,” Sam said. He felt it imperative to tell her while she was standing in front of him bleeding. And he planned on staying until she took her last breath. Then he would be satisfied.
Rose was hunched over now. She took in short painful breaths, tears falling the wrong way and meeting up with her blonde hair instead of her chin like she was used to when she cried. When she couldn’t stand any longer she dropped to her knees staring at the knife with her blood on it, Sam’s black shoes inches away from her. He was going to let her die.
Rose prayed for her life, prayed that someone would find her. And lastly, she prayed that her boyfriend would never find out what she did. She was okay to die for her wrong doing but she didn’t want to hurt her family.
Sam kneeled. He lifted her face with his large hand, one that she once enjoyed against her skin. But now it only made her stomach hurt more than it already did. Why hadn’t he just stabbed her in the heart?
“Please don’t tell anybody what we did, Sam. Just leave and let them think it was a robbery. Go. Now.” She pleaded. But this only caused Sam to become even angrier and more upset. He balled his fist, sucking in sharp breaths of air. Swinging his fist in a blurred daze, he came in contact with Rose’s face over and over again. Eventually he grew tired and dropped back against the counter, trying to catch his breath. He pried his ring from his swollen fingers wiping the blood against his shirt pocket.
She was crumpled in a heap on the concrete floor. Her hair draped over her badly battered face. Sam pushed it away, staring at the barely identifiable beauty she once was. He let out a long grunt, standing up, batting at her lifeless body with the toe of his shoe. He waited for her to move, to breathe, to do anything.
Sam listened to the passing cars, the ticking of the diner clock. But he heard nothing from Rose.
The diner door chimed like every time before when a patron was passing through.
Rose’s eyelids twitched under her swollen lids. She slowly opened her eyes afraid to make too much movement for fear Sam was close by. Maybe he had intentionally chimed the door in hopes of calling her bluff. But after a few more minutes she raised her head, looking around the back room, her blurred vision making it hard to see that he was gone, and she was still alive.
On to the next
Sam vigilantly watched the crowd. The bar was hopping. All sorts of college aged girls were up for partying and getting drunk. He held tight to his glass of vodka, watching the many varieties of girls as they passed by him, some bashfully giving him a smile. Some not shy at all.
“Hey there, handsome,” a tall, lengthy, blonde said, doing a mouth-watering walk around him like a furry feline before she came to a stop in front of him.
Sam smiled, taking all of her in. She was wearing a short red dress, cleavage out for the entire bar to see. She was asking for it. “Hey yourself.”
She offered him her hand. Sam obliged. It wasn’t hard to get any girl he wanted. He was good looking and well-off. One look at his dirty dish water blonde hair or his muscular hulking frame was enough to break through the toughest persona. He was magneti
c. He was charming. He knew what to say. It was just a matter of how long he wanted to portray all of these things before it got old and he wanted something else.
He watched her red heels excitedly click across his driveway. They were at his residence and this didn’t bother him at all. He lived on a street with less than five houses. Amongst a rather prosperous group of people that were too busy traveling the world to notice what Sam was busy doing on his private property.
“Wow,” she said, staring at his large oil painting hanging in the foyer. He crept up behind her, nestling his face in her neck, breathing in her cheap floral fragrance that quite honestly gave him a headache. She stroked his arms, enjoying the feel of his muscles like all the girls before her.
“Sorry for the mess,” he told her, unbuttoning his shirt. She stopped admiring the painting and put all her attention back into admiring him, just like he wanted. “What did you say your name was again?”
She smiled, amused by the question that he so easily paired with an innocent enough grin. He knew her name was Hannah. But he liked to put them on edge and take them down a few notches.
“Hannah. I told you like three times now.” She giggled, allowing him to unzip her dress, stepping out of it as it dropped at her feet. She walked through the rest of his home in nothing but her panties and red heels. And he thought it was hot. He enjoyed watching her smooth back arch and crane at every luxurious item she marveled over.
He poured two glasses of wine while she went on and on about just how awesome his house was.
“Hannah, why don’t we go to the bedroom?” Sam asked, shutting her up. She agreed, taking the glass from his hands and followed him into his bedroom.
“What do you do?” Hannah asked, staring around the room in awe. She had never seen anything like it. Nobody in her friend circle had the amount of money this guy had. And she was willing to do anything he wanted. Guys like Sam were hard to come by. She figured if she gave it up he might be willing to give her anything she wanted.
Sam took her drink, setting it on his nightstand. He rather forcefully pushed her down onto his bed, climbing on top of her, his body straddling hers in a way that prevented her from getting loose. Sam wrapped one arm tightly around her, pretending to be doing nothing more than embracing her passionately as they made out on his expensive bedding. Why hadn’t he changed the bedding? He hated to get it dirty.
“Sam you’re so hot,” Hannah said, biting at his neck. She dropped her head back, enjoying the soft kisses down the length of her neck. Going along with everything that Sam was doing to her.
Sam grew tired of all the heavy petting. He unzipped his pants, allowing her to help him out of them. He coaxed her head down, closing his eyes at the feel of her mouth around him. He relaxed for once, his guard dropping long enough to nearly climax. And just before he was fully there he yanked her by the hair ending her attempts at pleasuring him. The look of fear in her eyes, they were rather amazing blue eyes. And with one swift twist he snapped her neck and tossed her off of him.
Sam watched the last of the life drain out of her body through a few measly twitches. He zipped his pants back up, securing his belt in place, studying her perfect body, now nothing more than a corpse on his bedroom floor.
The only thing on his mind now was the disposing of her.
The Garden Surprise
“Smile for the camera,” Isabella shouted. Sam obliged laying it on thick as he wrapped his arm around his blushing soon to be bride. He kissed her cheek, taking in all the enthusiasm that was all for them, enthusiastic onlookers happy to be under the deep black sky that twinkled with about a million stars.
He was getting married.
“You seem tired, love,” Delaney, his fiancé, whispered in his ear, stroking the back of his hand with much adoration for him. She loved everything about Sam. She was happy to be there sitting next to him, soon to be his wife.
“I’ll sleep when I’m dead. Besides, seeing this smile on your face is enough to keep me up for years to come.” He softly pulled her in for a quick kiss on the lips that grew into something more. The two love birds without any apprehension had one of the most passionate kisses most of their guest had ever seen. The connection between the two was something of a fantasy come reality. It was quite mesmerizing.
As the crowd clapped and cheered for Sam and Delaney, Sam spotted a rather eerie presence off in the distance. The moonlight across her skin was enough to set his heart pumping and his palms sweating. He released his hold on Delaney, slowly standing up. There is no way he thought to himself, shaking hands with guest as he passed by them. He fixed his gaze on the petite blond that stood on the cobblestone path. Her hair spilled lazily over her delicate shoulders. Sam patted Delaney’s father on the arm and quickly drifted in between dancing couples and kids that were spending all their energy on circling the fancy ice sculptures and stone fountains that were sprinkled along the garden grounds.
He had to know. It had been several years since he even thought about Rose. He shook the insane hum in his ears and the shock suddenly shredding through him. Little by little he stepped closer. She delicately pushed her hair behind one ear, tilting her head as she laid eyes on him.
She hadn’t seen him in a long time, since that night at the diner when he attempted to kill her and leave her for dead, but now there he was, about to marry a long time friend of hers. It was dreamlike. Never had Rose thought she would lay eyes on Sam again. But there he was, still so attractive and domineering. But she knew from the skittish way his eyes wandered over the length of her body, and the way they ended at the large scar on the side of her face—just below her right eye—she knew he was shocked.
Rose stayed in New Mexico, while Delaney moved to Arizona to study culinary arts. The world had connected them again and Rose was out of her mind with a colossal amount of emotions. She couldn’t believe she was standing before Sam in another state—and even more so he was about to marry her best friend.
She had not spoken about the assault. And most days she felt foolish for not fingering Sam for what she knew was right. But her pride and self-respect kept her mouth shut. She didn’t want to be the laughing stock of her town—or even her family. She had a boyfriend; she didn’t want to lose him by admitting to her betrayal. It had been a mistake, one with dire consequences.
Rose brought her hands together, lacing her fingers in front of her. She drew in her bottom lip wincing in pain once she realized she was unconsciously biting it. A horrible wave of nausea slinked over her.
“How is this possible?” Sam asked. He cleverly looked away from Rose as if he was simply making small talk with a stranger.
“Possible that I’m alive, or that I’m at your engagement party?” She asked him, searching his eyes for a shred of compassion. But they were still the same blues that too many women were attractive, but to her, the way they rimmed with darkness when he was becoming angry was enough to stop her heart.
Sam took her by the elbow, disappearing them both behind a large bush. That way nobody knew what was about to take place. She couldn’t be there. Rose pried his fingers away in a state of panic. “She’s my friend. I hadn’t any idea she was about to marry you. You don’t even go by Sam anymore.”
She was right. Sam was his given name, and one he commonly used when he lived in New Mexico. But when he met Delaney he showed a side of himself to her that had been hidden for so long. Vance was his middle name. And Vance was what he admitted to when he first saw Delaney. It was unintentional, something that she magically pulled out of him with hardly any effort at all.
“You need to leave. Tell her you’re sick and get the hell out of here,” Vance said under his breath, nervously staring away from Rose and her scars.
Rose sighed, running her hand through her hair, the soft waves straightening and then recoiling as soon as she dropped her hand. Her blue eyes flickered with something. Sam wasn’t sure what.
“I don’t believe that is possible. Your about to marry my go
od friend, a friend I care a lot about. I don’t want to see her hurt.” Rose told him.
Sam shook his head in revulsion. She had his heart running at speeds that took him back to that very place he was trying to get away from. “I love Delaney. I would never do anything to ever ruin what we have together.”
Rose studied his eyes, weighing what she knew of Sam and what he was saying. She was at a loss of what to do. Her eyes wandered passed Sam to the dance floor where Rose was busily chatting away with all her guest. She floated through the air on a high that was only achievable when you were in the amount of love that she was. Rose didn’t think she could ruin that.
“I’ll keep my mouth shut for now,” she vowed, dodging his attempts at anymore conversation or threats. She hurried across the lush green grass, bumping into an older man holding a champagne bottle. Soon he lost sight of Rose all together. But he still couldn’t shake the eerie feeling of doom looming over the night now.