Rose and the Thorn (Fallen Tales series)

Chapter 18

Chapter 18
Rose
Thunder clapped like a whip. Lighting lit up the empty rooms. The lamp on my table turned off and I realized I was in the dark. Damn it. I lit my way with the light of my phone searching through the kitchen cupboards.
"Damn it, damn it," I muttered as I searched for matches. Something fell and hit the ground with a thud.
"Damn it."
I found the small box and groaned.
Where the hell was Jenson?
I walked up the stairs and down the hall to the void knowing that there was a three piece candle on the table by the war. I found it, stumbling to light the match.
I felt like I could breathe again once it was lit. I shone it around the void. It seemed more haunted at night and storming.
Light creeped through the side of the curtains as thunder echoed the house.
"Patrick!" I called. It felt like I was alone in a haunted house. In a way I guess I was right. I walked up the stairs to the West Wing.
"Patrick!" I called again. I was at his door when I heard,
"Rose?" I jumped two stories high at the sound of Patrick's voice behind me.
"Son of a bitch, Patrick. Next time you do that to me I'm going to cut off your balls and feed them to rabid dogs!" I yelled my heart pounding a million miles an hour.
"Okay," I heard him chuckle as he moved up the stairs to me. I shone the candle so I could see his face. He seemed just as uneasy as I did.
"You don't like storms, hey," I said shocked.
"Never have," he admitted.
I laughed placing the candle on the old wooden table.
"And you're not?"
"No, I guess I don't scare easy."
A clap of thunder rocked the house. Without thinking I jumped into Patrick's arms. His safe arms held me tight making me feel his warmth.
"Don't scare easy, hey," I heard him chuckle to himself but I didn't care. I was too overwhelm by his smell.
"You can put me down now," I said wishing he wouldn't.
"I'm trying to."
I leaned back so I could see his face. His bright blues eyes shined in the little light of the candle. His hands slid to my waste letting my legs dropped.
We both coughed awkwardly to cover the moment.
"Come with me," he took the candle leading me down the stairs to the library. I followed him to the lounge. I looked around confused.
"What are we doing?" I asked.
"We're sitting."
"I know but why?"
He signed, "I don't know. I used to do this with Easter when it stormed."
"Easter, your youngest sister?"
"Yeah, my favourite."
I playfully hit him, "you're not supposed to have favourites."
"Like you don't."
"You have to have siblings to have a favourite," I wanted to move on from the fact that I spent most of my childhood alone, "so why was she your favourite?"
"I don't know. She was just full of life for such a tiny person. And she had this laugh right, it was the cutest sound you've ever heard."
I laughed at him.
"What?"
"Nothing, your face just lit up when you talked about her. What about your other sisters?"
"Well Carmel and Danette were very quiet. They kind of followed where ever Bethany and Adelaide went. Bethany was very smart. Smartest out of the five. Whenever she wasn't fighting with Adelaide she would be doing homework or reading. And then there's Adelaide," he groaned.
"What?"
"She was just the ring leader and had to be the head of everything."
He paused and frowned.
"What?"
"Just something she said one time. She wanted to be heir."
"I don't understand."
I watched him as his brain connected the dots.
"Maybe that's why we never got along because I was the only thing she couldn't control. She would control everyone. My sisters, the servants. I think she even gave Jenson an order once."
"But she was the daughter of the Lord, doesn't she have the right to?"
"Yeah but I mean really ordered him around. Even I don't do that."
I scoffed, "curtains."
He smiled, "okay fine, one thing I ordered. But I don't order him around. I mean, she did. Oh God. This makes so much sense."
He fell silent as he thought. The silence soon became tiring and I fell asleep on his shoulder.

Patrick
I woke up with the smell of Rose's hair in my face. Her head rested on my chest as she slept beautifully. Her body perfectly fitted mine as she lied on top of me.
I heard her groan as if she was in pain. I wrapped my arms around her getting drunk on the feel of human connect. How could I have gone five years without the feel of another? And now that I have I can't seem to get enough. I wanted to touch her. I wanted to kiss her. I want to love her.
It was like alert bells going off in my mind.
Warning, warning. Too deep too deep. Can't be loved, Can't be loved.
I immediately wanted her off me but her sleeping body was like dead weight. I had to lie there, trying to focus my feelings. It was torture.
Hearing her moan again, made me want to spin her on her back and kiss her till she couldn't breathe.
"What time is it?" she mumbled.
Grateful to forget my thoughts, I looked at the tiny clock that sat on a shelf of the bookshelf.
"Eight-o'clock."
She groaned sitting up. Her hair was a tingled mess and her auburn eyes looked doughy.
"I should go, can't have the day off today," she stated.
"I guess not."
She sighed, not moving from where she sat next to me.
"Thank you for last night."
"Well, it was your first storm. I know it can be scary."
"No, not that. When you talked about your sisters. I know that couldn't have been easy."
I thought about it. Had it been hard? It always had been but last night I felt a sense of proudness as I shared what my sisters had been like.
"It was easier than you think."



Rose
As I picked at the weeds between the marble tiles of the front steps, all I could think about was the feel of Patrick's body beneath me. The feel of his cotton shirt against my cheek as his chest rose and fell. He was even cuter in the mornings. His short blonde hair tangled and his shirt ruffled showing a little of his chest hair. Made me hot just thinking about it.
What are you doing Rose? Remember your track record with men.
Speaking with guys had always been easy for me. And leaving bars with them was even simpler. But it was keeping them that I had problems with. Even before Kobey, I had trust issues. One night of passion, that was my thing. If they wanted more, it was quickly over.
But with Patrick. I found myself picturing a future with him and we weren't even a couple. We weren't anything really. We drove each other crazy and it's only moments like this morning that makes things feel different between us. But then we're at each other the moment we have a chance.
I heard a rustling in the bushes by the road. My body tensed of the thought of it being a wolf. My blood went cold at the thought it could be someone from the village.
"Hello?" I said cautiously. I stood up in hope that I might scare them away.
I heard a crack.
"Hello?" I slowly moved towards the bushes. My heart was pounding with every step.
Then it showed its face.
"Oh my God!" I squealed and a little brown beagle came towards me. I sunk down to its size offering out my hand.
"Look at you."
Its eyes were burning with curiosity but its body was cautious.
"Come on, I won't hurt you."
As if it understood what I had said, it moved closer to my hand letting me pat him. I looked at him. He was covered in mud, wet and shaking. Had he been caught in the storm? I wrapped my arms around him, picking him up. He trembled with fear. I used one arm to carry him and the other to pat his head.
I took him in the house and down to the Servant's Hall. He needed to be washed. I made my way to my bathroom, turning on the light switch. He didn't want to leave my side as I turned on the tap to the bath. The hissing of water made him jump. I didn't realized what he was doing till I saw the puddle he had left.
"Damn it, stupid dog."
I will have to clean it up later. The stupid thing was probably scared to death.
When the water was high enough and warm enough, I pick him up and dropped him in. he made an effort to escape but soon exhaustion kicked in. he sat still as I used my shampoo to clean him and a spare towel to dry him. He had no collar on him and seemed to take a shine to me.
I carried him to my room and shut the door locking him in. Making my way to the kitchen, I got a bowl and filled it with water. I then searched through the freezer. I immediately thought, why doesn't Jenson cook nice food for us instead of mush or smooch?
I took out the left over stake that Patrick didn't eat two nights ago and cut it up into small squares and placed it in another bowl. I took both bowls back to my room. The poor thing was curled up in a corner, almost asleep. I wondered how long he had been out there. I placed the two bowls in front of him and his head lifted up in curiosity. He sniffed around as if trying to tell if it was real or not. His stomach gave in and he started to eat the squares of meat.
I sighed, "I guess you need a name, don't you?"
I thought about this. Baster and Spot were cheesy. I wasn't the sort of person to name him a human name like Fred or Bob.
I looked at him. His curious brown eyes looked up at me.
"How about Curious?"
I started to laugh. It's not curiosity that will killed the cat. Nope, just plain Curious.
Late at night, he wouldn't stop whimpering. I couldn't sleep. I had made up my mind and I thought we should take our relationship slow. So now he wouldn't stop whimpering at the end of my bed.
"Shut up Curious," I grumbled. He stopped for a couple of seconds and started again. I groaned.
"Fine, come on."
I opened my covers and he leaped up next to me. He gratefully kissed me and shuffled till he was comfortable.
"Are you right?" he grumbled as if he was answering me, "that's what I thought."