19. Scarlet #3
“You made her breakfast?” Atlas sputters. Under, literally, any other circumstances the look of bewildered disbelief on his face would delight me.
“French toast.” There’s something in Ellis’s tone I can’t decipher, but Atlas latches on immediately.
“Fucking hell,” Atlas tips his head back and groans as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “This is worse than I thought.”
“What?” I scrunch my nose, my gaze volleying back between the two of them.
“Nothing,” Ellis says tightly, his tone completely at odds with the soft, soothing circles he’s rubbing on my back.
A million questions sit on the tip of my tongue, but I swallow them back. “Do you think they’ll finish soon? Being here makes my skin crawl.”
“Want me to go check?”
I nod, and he stands, venturing further into my house, leaving me alone with Atlas. The second Ellis is out of sight, his lip curls.
“What?” I ask, unable to help myself.
“It’s interesting, isn’t it?” he asks, leaning back against the front door frame.
“What is?” I brace myself for his answer, because I already know whatever he’s going to say is going to be brutal.
“The way you always seem to find yourself mixed up in some kind of bullshit.” He shakes his head. “You’re a fucking walking, talking trouble magnet.”
“Right.” I laugh, but it’s a dull, humorless sound. “Every terrible thing is not only my fault, I asked for it.”
I want nothing more than to curl up and cry, but I force myself back onto my feet, standing firm as I stare him down. “I wanted Nora, my literal only friend, to get kidnapped and almost killed.”
Atlas tries to say something, but I don’t let him speak.
I’m on a fucking roll as I throw my arms wide, completely uncaring of the fact Ellis, or the cops, could walk in and hear our little showdown.
“I’m so pathetic, that I must want a stalker, right?
I. Want. All. Of. This. That’s what you’re saying, right? ”
“Scarlet,” he starts, holding his hands out in front of him. “I didn’t—”
“Oh, but you did, Atlas. You’ve made your thoughts on me abundantly clear, and, honestly, a part of me gets it.
I get needing someone to blame for the shit that goes wrong in life.
I searched high and low for someone to blame when my dad left, but guess what?
That was my fault, too. Because apparently fucking everything is my fault. ”
I bat away the stupid tears clinging to my cheeks, hating the thought of crying in front of, well, anyone. But it’s useless because they just keep falling.
“But guess what? My mom still loves me. Nora still loves me. The people most affected by my so-called actions still fucking love me. So, you can either take a big ass step and get over whatever issues you have with me, or you can get the fuck out of my life.”
The asshole laughs. “And how am I supposed to do that when you’re the fucking maid of honor in my wedding?”
“Yup, you got me. Scarlet the hanger-on-er.” I wrap my arms around myself, trying to steel my spine for what I know comes next.
My circle’s small, practically nonexistent, for a reason—if I don’t let anyone in, I can’t ever get hurt.
Really, I only have myself to blame. “C-c-consider the problem solved. I’ll make sure to let N-Nora d-down easy. ”
I’m full on falling apart at this point. Borderline hysterical, really. “You are a good person. You deserve good things. You are enough. You are worthy of love.” I mutter my dumb affirmations out loud as I pace the length of my living room.
“Fucking hell,” Atlas grumbles.
I whip around to face him. “What are you waiting for?” I shout. “Leave, Atlas. Get the fuck out of my house. You’re neither wanted nor needed here, so leave!”
“What in the hell’s going on in here?” Ellis asks, skidding to halt between us.
“Nothing.” I cross my arms over my chest. “I’d like you both to leave.”
“What the hell did you do?” Ellis growls, which only makes me feel worse, because of course he’d take his best friend’s side.
“Nothing—”
“Not you, Princess.” He glares at Atlas. “You.”
“I didn’t...” Atlas starts, only to trail off.
“We’re all done,” the short cop says.
“Okay,” I whisper. “What happens next?”
“Here’s my card,” the bald one says. “If you think of anything else or see anything suspicious, no matter how small, don’t hesitate to call.”
I glance down, noting his name. “Thanks, Officer Harrelson.”
He nods my way before shaking Ellis’s hand. The short one follows suit, and then both file out of my house, leaving me alone with two clearly frustrated men.
An oppressive silence settles around us, the weight of it stifling, until finally, Atlas breaks. “You're seriously gonna take her side right now?”
Ellis shakes his head. “It's not about sides, man. You know I love you like a fucking brother, but you're out of line.”
Atlas looks away, grunting his disagreement.
“It doesn’t need to be this way.”
My surly ex glares. “You’re right, it doesn’t.”
Ellis sighs. “You need to go, man. We'll catch up later.”
“Whatever,” Atlas scoffs. “Fuck this.” He turns around and stomps out of the house.
“Thank you,” I croak, my voice barely audible. “You didn’t have to do that. But, um, you... you can go, too.”