Kobe, Bad Blood (Blood Roses Book 1) by Danielle Norman (great reads TXT) 📕

guys were loyal, they wouldn’t snitch on anyone, hence why there were still no arrests in my brother’s murder, I thought Dante would be just as loyal back.

Inhaling deeply, I closed my eyes as a horrid vision filled my mind: Dante with a gun in hand and pointing it at Jared.

I leaned back against my car and stared up at the lone star in the night sky as tears rolled down my cheeks.

“Kobe,” Ridley said, and a scream ripped through me as I whirled around, fists raised.

“Whoa there, hold on, calm down,” she said. “It’s just me.” Ridley stepped closer, her kind face drawn into lines of concern. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“Nothing,” I said and sniffed. The smell of exhaust and gravel filled my lungs, grounding me into this moment. “What are you doing outside of my apartment?” I asked and slid my hands into my pockets, hoping it would help them remain still.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” she said and gestured to the staircase that led up to my second floor apartment.

“Waiting? It’s after midnight,” I said and tried to remember if we had made any plans to get together.

“No, I know that,” Ridley said as she moved closer to me and leaned against the driver door of my car. “I’ve been thinking about earlier today, our training.”

“Oh,” I said.“I forgot that was this morning. It felt like a lifetime ago.”

“Yeah, looks like you’ve had one of those nights. Anyway, I was thinking about what you said about the DT Coyotes and about your brother’s murder. I don’t think you should stay here alone, Kobe.” She looked over her shoulder at the dingy sign that read Ciesta Lago Apartment Complex. “It’s not safe. I was about ready to pull my gun out no fewer than three times this evening.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “I didn’t know you carried.”

“I think every woman should carry, it’s not like a police officer is going to fit in our purses.”

I chuckled.

“Anyway, I came here to try to talk you into moving into my house with me.”

“I turned to face her. “You barely know me.”

“I know you more than you think. I have a two story house. It’s on the edge of Little Vietnam. Compared to here, the area is great.” Ridley kicked a pebble with the toe of her boot. “Someone has to be accountable for your safety, someone needs to know if you don’t show up at night.” She finished, and my throat tightened as I closed my eyes, and fought back the tears that were threatening to spill over.

“Thank you, Ridley.” I sniffled.

“Kobe, I didn’t mean to make you cry,” she said and wrapped her arms around me. She pulled me close as I buried my face into her denim jacket.

“Thank you,” I repeated as I clung to her, realizing how badly I needed to be held by someone.

“Of course. You’re welcome,” she said. When she inhaled, I braced myself for the question that had to be on her mind, but no question came.

We stood for a long moment as I regained my composure.

“You know,” she said, “I thought it would be harder to convince you to move in with me.”

“Let’s go upstairs.” I motioned with my head. We walked across the parking lot, and up the steel echoing staircase that led to my apartment door.

“Is this you?” she asked.

“Yep.” I slid my key into the lock and opened the door. I was relieved by the rush of cold air that dried the tears on my face.

“Are you sure you live here?” Ridley asked in surprise, and I flicked on the overhead light, and illuminated the closet of an apartment.

“I just never bought more than the sofa, mattress, and the coffee table,” I said with a shrug. “I have some pictures though,” I added as she examined the wall of photographs that I had hung.

“Is this your brother?” she asked and pressed her finger to the photograph of a smiling, gangly teenage boy with his arm draped around an equally awkward-looking teenage girl.

“Yeah, that’s Jared,” I said and felt the hitch in my heart that was there whenever I saw photographs of us.

“He was cute,” she said.

I laughed. “He would have said the same thing about you.”

“How about your parents?”

“Don’t know my dad, he left while my mom was pregnant. Mom died a few years before Jared.”

“Hmm.” Ridley sighed as she came to the next photo. “And this guy?” She flicked a finger at the photograph.

The sharp pain in my chest rippled through my body. “That’s our friend, Easton,” I said and looked at the photograph of the handsome young man in his high school graduation cap and gown.

“He’s cute too,” she said.

I nodded, knowing all too well how good-looking Easton really was. “My room is back here,” I said and stepped two feet down the hall and clicked on the light switch.

A single full size mattress lay on the floor decorated only by the cheap Walmart comforter and two hundred and fifty count thread sheets.

“Wow,” she said. “Talk about luxury.”

I rolled my eyes as I crossed to the pile of laundry in the far corner of the room. “I basically just sleep here,” I said with a shrug. “So I haven’t had company all that often.”

Ridley stepped across the fake wood floors that creaked under her weight and opened the closet door. “And what’s all this?” She pointed to three small U-haul boxes.

“Some of Jared’s things,” I said and turned away from her as I stuffed T-shirts and jeans into a duffel bag. It wasn’t totally true since one of the boxes was my mom’s stuff.

“Can I help you?” she asked. I nodded, and she lifted four hangers from the closet and a small stack of books from the closet floor.

“Whose glasses,” she asked of the round tortoiseshell frames. “They kind of remind me of James Dean.”

I snorted out a laugh. “They were my brother’s. I think that was what he was going for. Not that he wore them