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Killing Roses

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- Thrilling tale in which a troubled, young Detective has to keep a stubborn, sassy social worker out of the clutches of a shadow-faced killer-

"""----Roman made a face. "You can't just trust anyone, especially not now."

Valerie held up her hand. "That's enough, Mr Detective," she said in a bored tone. "Don't you have a case to solve? I'm alive, you've seen that, so you can run along now."

Roman's eyes narrowed in irritation. The silence stretched between them and when Val saw his eyes darken, she quickly turned hers away, shamelessly retracting her silent challenge. "That mouth of yours..." he growled. "...will get you into trouble one of these days."

Valerie suddenly felt how exposed her long legs were in her short robe. She knew she was crazy to be feeling like that, but her breasts tingled either way, her n*****s tightening in her pajamas.

"Maybe," she said, staring into his eyes. "I'm hoping it does."---"""

♪♪

He was bad news.

Valerie was sure of it.

Short-tempered cops who looked like demigods from the Avengers were bad news.

Especially when they took your phone and discovered your kinky little secrets.

That was it. Valerie decided to make sure she steered clear of him.

Until she became the target of a psychotic killer and Detective Roman Parker was her only way to stay alive.

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Prologue__Valentine's Rose
14 February 2007. 00:15 am.   She begged him. Her eyes were wide and full of terror as she pleaded for her life through the dirty gag in her mouth. He laughed, couldn’t help it. He drew the knife slowly, gently across her throat as her wide brown eyes stared up at him. The third cut he’d made across her throat in the last hour and she gargled with the pain. He lifted his hand quickly away, always clever enough to cut not too deep, not too close to that spot. She’d lasted longer than any of the others and he was strangely proud of her. That pride dimmed quickly as his irritation rose. Damn b***h should have been dead by now, but her eyes continued to have life in them. She continued to beg as if it would make a difference. He was tired of her, he wanted something new to play with now. So he pressed his hand a little harder, flicked his wrist a little quicker and watched as the blood flowed from her throat in a thick scarlet river, some spurting out in that way that he found entrancing. She gurgled as the life bled out of her. “Shhh…” He stroked her skin. “Happy Valentine’s Day, darling. Here’s a rose.” Her body jerked about as the life flowed out of her much faster than anyone could imagine and he stroked her soft brown skin, watching every moment of it. She was as beautiful as the roses he had laid reverently around her body and he watched as life seemed to fade from both her and the rootless flowers at the same time. It always fascinated him, how rapidly the moment was over. But each time, he paid careful attention and could swear that he could pinpoint the exact second that the light, the life, was snuffed out from their eyes. Hers, initially alive with bright emotion, were now dull as they stared up at him. She was dead.   ****************** 16 February, 2007 11:00 am   The boys sat huddled together, the older of the two holding his baby brother close. Detective Michael Cooper felt sick to his stomach. Two days ago, he’d been called in at the discovery of their mother’s body, brutalized beyond anything he could have ever imagined. She’d been the fifth victim of the Rose Killer and the bastard had done every sick thing in the book to her, leaving her in an alley with rose petals scattered over her stiff corpse. Nicole Parker was taken on her way home from her second job and left not a trace behind. It was like she’d left the bar and just vanished into thin air on the dark Bronx streets. Cooper didn’t get it. In the eleven years of his career, he’d never seen a case with as many victims and as few leads as this. Nicole Parker was one of the only two women whose bodies were found. The others, taken from their homes or workplace parking lots, were never seen again. The only trace was the flowers he left behind. Rose petals found in their beds and cars. But Cooper couldn’t tell the boys that, could he? That their mother was dead, killed by a psychopath who should have been stopped long ago, but roamed free because the police were incompetent. Leaning on the old coffee machine, Cooper watched as the dark liquid filled his cup before letting the hot drink burn down his throat and allowing himself to pretend it was something stronger. Something way stronger. “Did you find him?” Cooper raised his bloodshot brown eyes. It was Nicole Parker’s eldest son, Roman Parker. She’d been the only victim who’d had kids. Cooper gulped as the fourteen-year-old stared up at him with hard, unwavering grey eyes. “What was that, son?” The boy didn’t flinch. “The person who did this to our mother. Did you find him?” Sweat gathered on Detective Cooper’s brow and he wiped at it with his sleeve. “Not yet... I haven’t, but I will, I promise you that.” Cooper lowered himself to face the boys where they sat on the bench. The younger was only four years old. Just a baby. He kept his eyes closed, clinging onto his brother. Roman Parker stared at him. “He killed many women. And now he killed our mother. Why haven’ you found him?” The question hung in the air and Cooper found himself unable to respond, the shame bore down on him and he found himself lowering his head. “Detective Cooper?” Cooper’s head snapped up. A prim and proper little lady with bags under her eyes strode up to them with two files in her hands. “Yes.” “I am Rene Vosloo, I’ve been assigned to the case of Roman and Liam Parker as their social worker.” Cooper nodded as he shook the woman’s hand. He turned to the boys as they stood up, and sighed sadly. “Roman, Liam. This lady—” “She takes us to a new place,” Roman stated. “Why can’t we just stay in mama’s apartment?!” Rene Vosloo stepped forward briskly. “Sweetheart, it’s not safe for you to stay alone, both you and your brother are under-aged.” “I can look after Liam,” Roman stated. “I know how to cook. I can make noodles, toast, and even eggs. We’ll be okay in mama’s apartment.” A tear escaped and Cooper watched the kid wipe it furiously away. His effort to remain strong for his little brother made Cooper clench his jaw in fury. Some days, being a cop wasn’t worth the damage it made to his soul. His eyes fell on Liam, who wordlessly clung onto his brother, staring wide-eyed up at the woman. The four-year old’s big grey eyes matched his brother’s but showed all the fear, sadness and confusion that Roman was currently fighting to hide. Cooper crouched before him and the child stared at him. A fat tear rolled down over the little boy’s cheek and Cooper raised a hand to wipe it, but Roman jerked his brother away. With a sigh, Cooper dropped it. Being born and raised in Tremont, Bronx, one of the worst parts of New York, had taught the child to be fiercely protective of all that he loved. Cooper didn’t blame him. “Hey, Liam,” he began. “I know you’re scared… and I know you’re sad, but I need you to be brave, okay? I’m so sorry that your mom ain’t here no more, I’m so sorry, son, but you gotta be real brave now. Yeah?” The four-year-old blinked, dropping tears onto his cheeks. “I’m… I’m not s-scared. I’m not scared.” Nodding, Detective Cooper straightened and turned to the social worker. Rene Vosloo gave him an eye roll and a tight smile. “They’re always this way at first, they’ll be alright.” He didn’t know what she meant. Always how at first? Mournful over the loss of their mother at the hands of a maniac killer? He turned away so as to not glare at the woman. “Just please take good care of them,” he said. The woman nodded. “Of course.” She put her hands on their shoulders and began leading the children away. Roman glanced back, ice-cold eyes glaring. Cooper sank onto the bench. He needed to see a shrink. *********** It had been two months since they had been taken away. Roman hadn’t thought they’d survive for that long with their mom gone. The first social worker had brought them stuff from their apartment, including their family photographs and books and stuff. Clothes too. He was glad she’d done that. It made him hate her just a little less. He sat on the sofa in the new social worker’s office and stared at all the things in her office. She was rich, he could tell. The woman had a classy leather coat wrapped around her office chair, the scent of expensive perfume filled the small room and his nostrils. Roman snorted, getting rid of the offensive smell. She was a rich broad, there was zero chance that she actually gave a damn about him and Liam. Why was a rich broad even working with orphan brats like them? He didn’t get it. He sighed and glanced at the door again, wondering how long they would be. The new social worker had taken Liam into the next room for his medical check-up. They wouldn’t let him stay in the room with Liam, but Roman had gone first, so he knew they wouldn’t hurt his brother. Still, he kept his ears sharp, ready to hear any trouble the second it started. Mama always told him, above all else, to protect his brother and Roman had no intention of letting her down. “Roman!” Roman immediately jerked up. Liam. The cry came from the other room. He jumped off the sofa, running for the door just as it flew open and the new woman filled it, her hands held out, ready to catch him. Roman wasn’t deterred. He ran straight at her and the lady yelped as she struggled to hold him back. “What are you doing?!” Roman yelled, fighting to push her away. “What are you doing to my brother?!” “He’s fine!” the woman responded, but Roman wasn’t convinced. He could hear Liam sobbing somewhere in the building and it shot panic into his heart. “Let me go! Liam!” Roman was losing his young mind. He couldn’t hear Liam crying anymore. Had they killed his baby brother? A man came hurrying into the room. “Sasha! Let him go. It’s… it’s okay.” “You sure, Barry?” He nodded. Her arms fell away and Roman pushed her back with all his might, breathing furiously. “Where’s my brother?! What did you people do?!” Sasha eyed the boy’s fisted hands and took a step away as she straightened her hair. She and Rene had managed to keep them together for the past two months with the family that accepted to take them in after their mother was a victim of the Rose Killer. However, having both boys became too much for the family so when a couple came forward, looking for a young boy to adopt, Sasha saw herself looking at a solution that would take plenty of work off her desk. It was best for the boys, they’d just have to adapt. “Now, listen, Roman.” She held her hands together in what she’d been taught was a calming pose. It didn’t seem to be working on the child. “Liam is fine, perfectly fine. I just need to tell you that he won’t be going back to the Shaw’s home with you today.” Roman’s skin went cold. The Shaws were he and Liam’s foster people. What did she mean? “I don’t understand. Where’s my brother?!” “Calm down, Roman!” said Sasha sternly, but he wasn’t having it. When the boy tried to push past her, she blocked him, ensuring to keep him from leaving the office. The child was more trouble than Liam’s new parents could handle. “Liam’s found a new family, Roman. I promise I’ll find you one too, just calm down for now.” Roman stared at her as his struggle died away. “What? What new family?” She saw his eyes fill and unlike before, he didn’t shamefully wipe the tears away. “Liam’s fine, Roman, I promise!” “He’s my brother!” the child screamed and Sasha flinched. “Yes, sweetie, I know, but—” “No, he’s my brother! I’m his family! Bring Liam back! Bring him back!” The moment Roman leaped at Sasha, Barry interceded, holding back the upset, sobbing teenager. “It’s alright, Roman,” he tried to convince him, but the child was beyond listening. Roman stared at Sasha through his tears, feeling even sadder than before. Liam. She sent Liam away. Roman thought of how scared Liam probably was and he stared at the woman, wanting to kill her. He wanted to smash her face in and cause her pain for what she’d done. But he didn’t. He just stood, held back by Barry’s hands on his arms, feeling all the anger course through him. He stared at the woman, stared her in damn blue eyes. “I hate you.”

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