Prologue #2
I watch as she crouches down and bolts through the alleyway, before jumping the wrought iron fence to cut through the graveyard. I keep my eyes trained on her for as long as I can until she eventually disappears into the darkness.
“Good luck, Girl Scout,” I whisper to myself as I feel my goofy grin stretch across my face.
It’s odd timing, I know, but I can’t help the sense of pride I feel for her in this moment.
Seeing her finally let out some of that anger she keeps locked up so tight.
Maybe this is a turning point for her? I can only hope.
My leg bounces with nervous energy as I stare at the twenty-minute timer on my phone, impatiently waiting as the seconds tick by.
After fifteen minutes have passed, I can’t take the silence anymore. I type out a quick text to check on her.
You still good?
A couple of minutes later, my phone buzzes with a response.
Scout
Almost done. Ten more minutes, maybe?
Just hurry up and be careful.
I tap my fingers to the beat of the music that’s barely loud enough to hear as I try like hell to keep my mind from going to the worst-case scenario and tell myself she’s fine.
But when I catch sight of a white car speeding by out of my peripheral vision, my spine goes ramrod straight.
There’s a sickening feeling twisting in my gut, and I break out in a cold sweat—my fear tightens like a noose around my neck.
Two seconds later, another car passes by, going just as fast, heading in the same direction as Scout.
“Goddammit,” I hiss as I shift into drive and take off after them, turning down an adjacent road so I’m hopefully unnoticed.
Turning onto Main Street, I see Scout busy putting the finishing touches on her painting. It’s hard to make out exactly, it’s large and definitely more intricate than I was expecting. The bright green eyes catch my attention, and I immediately know it’s the Phantom.
The second thing I notice is the building where she’s spray painting. It’s the abandoned church smack dab in the middle of town… A historic church that’s still standing, despite its ramshackle brick walls. The building’s nearly as old as Ashford Falls, one of the very first built here.
You’d think someone would’ve bought it and fixed it up by now, but since it’s a historical building, the city’s more protective of it.
I guess they’re waiting for the right person to swoop in and fix it up like it deserves.
I don’t have time to figure out why Scout chose this building of all places, but knowing her, I’m sure she had her reasons.
I see the police cruiser turn down the block, and I pull the car to the side of the road, and I’m already out of my car, running to her, not even caring that I’m illegally parked in a fire lane.
“Scout, we’ve got to go!” I whisper-yell, waving my arms to get her attention.
She looks over her shoulder and drops the can of spray paint at her feet, as the bright blue lights of the police cruiser start to flash.
She takes off toward me in a sprint, reaching me just as the second cop car rounds the corner. “Oh, shit. What do we do?” Her round eyes go wide as she looks up at me, and my heart shatters into a million pieces at the sight of the fear on her face.
“Come on, we need to hide.” I take her hand and lead her to the back of the building, just as the cop’s bright lights illuminate the space. The siren’s wailing now, as if we didn’t already know we were screwed.
I hear the sirens grow louder as the second cop pulls up. Gravel crunches beneath the tires as another bright spotlight flashes around the building.
We lay low, our breaths coming out in heavy pants as I try like hell to formulate a plan.
We can’t run, we’ve got cops on both sides of us, and there’s no way we’ll be able to get past them at this close of a distance.
I look above me and see the broken metal ladder of the fire escape. It’s the only way.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I pull Scout to her feet. “You need to get up there. The fire escape goes all the way up to the roof. You can jump to the vacant building next door and climb down the other side. Then, you need to hide. I’ll come for you, okay?”
She nods, her eyes wide as saucers, as her whole body shakes in my hands.
“You can do this, Scout,” I reassure her before pulling her into a tight hug, wrapping my arms around her small frame. She hugs me back with all her strength, and when I pull away, I see her eyes are rimmed in tears. The dam in me breaks.
I press my lips to hers as the years of pent-up tension comes crashing to the surface, the gigantic waves washing my feet out from under me.
I lose myself in the feel of her soft lips as she grips my shirt and pulls me closer.
Nothing has ever felt more right than this.
My hand moves behind her head as I cradle her against me, my neck cranes down almost painfully because of our height difference.
Her lips are incredibly soft, and she tastes like a mix of strawberry lip gloss and peppermint gum. My body is a live flame burning hot as desire rips through me. I grip my fists in the fabric of her t-shirt as I pull her into me, needing to feel her more than I need air in my lungs.
And she’s kissing me back with just as much vigor, her fingernails clawing at my back just as desperately. Like she’s wanted this just as much as I have, and I can’t help but wonder how long we’ve deprived ourselves because we were both too afraid to act.
We lose ourselves in the kiss, drowning in all the promises we’ve already made and everything that’s to come. It’s a promise, a vow, a revelation all at the same time.
And when I finally find the will to pry my lips away from hers and tear our bodies apart, she lets out the sexiest whimper of protest. She blinks several times as awareness slowly comes back to her, and she slowly places two fingers against her lips.
I don’t have time to react before I hear a voice shouting in the distance. “Who’s back there? You’re already caught, kid, so you can do this the easy way or the hard way…it’s up to you,” the cop’s deep voice echoes through the megaphone, and I feel my heart drop to my stomach.
“Come on,” I say, just before I grab the can of spray paint from her pocket, then I’m hoisting her up before she can argue.
I lift her over my head with ease, adjusting her so she can climb up my shoulders.
When I feel her weight lift, I glance up and watch her quietly pull herself up the rest of the way.
She pauses for only a moment, like she’s trying to tell me something, then she takes off, climbing up to the roof.
I let out a sigh of relief, then uncap the can of spray paint and rub a little on my fingers.
With my hands held above my head, I slowly walk to the front of the building as the cops rush toward me.
I follow their orders to get down as my face is pressed into the asphalt and my hands are cuffed behind my back.
I know I said I’d try to get away, but we’re already busted. Better to turn myself in than have them come searching and find both of us, besides, all the evidence is already here.
It’s only when they pull me up to lead me to the back of the cop car that I remember the joint in my pocket…and I know I may have just royally fucked up.