The Blossom of Rose

25 • Soft-hearted

"You can't even see it." I roll my eyes.

"But you can see a shit ton of skin from your bare shoulders. Put the fucking jacket on." He snarls and passes his blazer to me. I huff, taking it from him and putting it on. I roll up the sleeves and tie my hair into a small bun.

Luca leans over and clicks open the glove compartment, making sure the gun he grabs is loaded before tucking it into his waistband. "There's one in the inside pocket."

We exit the car and I shiver as we step into the night, pulling the jacket closer to me. The look he sends me is smug and I hold up a hand, "don't say it. Just don't."

There's a blinking 'Closed' sign at the front entrance of the club.

Before he pushes the door open, I say, "just so you know, Kyle has a short fuse. Say one little thing to make him angry and he'll start blurting out important information." Luca nods and pushes the door open.

The decor is dark and frightening, like his home, with couches along the side, a bar in the middle, and a wide window. It gives off an elitist vibes club.

The chairs are upturned on the tables and in the centre, Kyle is tied to a chair next to a large pail of water, a tall guy and Brando both standing over him. As we enter, their gazes are drawn to us as we draw closer to them.

I watch as Kyle struggles for his life underwater and Brando pulls him out of it.

Kyle is barely conscious and droplets of water trickle from his face. Brando clutches his hair and lifts his head, but his eyelids flicker rapidly, possibly to clear the water from his eyes.

His malicious eyes flit to Luca and then set directly on me. "Told you the bastard cared about you, pretty girl," his lips uprise in a smirk.

Luca's jaw tightens and he pulls out his gun, shooting both of Kyle's hands. My hands fling to cover my ears, my heart also jumping in fear, and Kyle's hollow screams echo on the walls.

A string of curses flies from Kyle's mouth to the point where they become incoherent. I almost cringe for him.

"That's for laying a fucking hand on her," Luca sneers and my stomach lurches in a load of different emotions.

Kyle hiccups between the spasms of pain. "It's a shame I couldn't see your reaction when you opened that letter," he inhales a deep pained breath and I wince, "I would've loved to see the look of defeat when you realised someone had messed with a person you care about."

"I don't think you understand that when you take something from me, I bite back a hundred fucking times harder," Luca smirks evilly, malevolence trilling from every word. He presses the gun into the bullet holes in Kyle's hand and his lungs cry out.

"Stop the fucking bleeding. He can't die yet," Luca demands and wipes the gun on Kyle's shirt, the remnants of his blood staining it. The tall guy grabs two strips of fabric and ties each of them around Kyle's hands, who winces at the impact.

I touch a hand to my wound. The cut on my lip only remains as a thin streak and there's a small purple bruise that I covered up with a bit of concealer.

Thank you, Lord, that these are the only wounds I have.

I don't think you should thank the Lord for that.

I'm craving a soda. I go to the bar while they continue to scare information out of Kyle and pour a glass of it straight from an unopened can. Then, I take a seat on the couch facing them.

I catch Kyle's words. "The beautiful rose struck from the paws of a wolf. What is it that happens next? Oh yes. Do you want to tell her or shall I, Armani?" He smirks, crookedly, and looks directly at me.