Chapter 4 #2
“I don’t want you—or Bohnes or Widow or Alexei—to suffer because of me. I can’t justify that without feeling like Aspen.” I admit it, right there in the middle of the dim arcade. Scarlett turns her head, inadvertently painting half of her face red with light.
“If it weren’t for that, how would you act?
” she wonders, and I shrug my shoulders, holding my palms out in surrender.
That’s what I’m doing. I’m surrendering to her.
I’m not weak. I have no problem being violent if needed.
But I don’t want to have to be. I want to live where being violent isn’t necessary to have peace. How bloody naive.
Scarlett turns back to me and then lifts up on the toes of her heels and kisses me. She overbalances intentionally, knowing I’ll catch her hips. We have trouble saying no to each other, me and Scarlett. Even when it might kill me. Even when it might kill her.
“I’d probably order us a milkshake,” I admit, wanting to hold her on my lap and share a shake between us. I’m obsessed with the idea of using the same straw as her. “I might play some of these games to see if I couldn’t win a prize for you.”
Scarlett licks my bottom lip and I angle us in the direction of the shadowed corner beside the machine.
“Then that’s what I want you to do. For once in your life, you can relax.
” Scarlett slams her fist against the wall again.
Definitely kabedon’ing me. She tickles the fingers of her other hand beneath my chin.
Kisses me. “Relax.” Kisses me again. “If you have to share me with three other men, then you should reap some benefits from that. Bohnes can sleep. Widow won’t be poor.
Alexei can avenge his dad. You can breathe, Ash. ”
I flinch again. Ash. My eyes flick around, spotting Aspen’s corpse. I watch as it collapses to the floor and the head rolls away, blood soaking into the carpet.
Aspen is dead.
“And you can rot,” I say to the empty air, my voice so cold that it gives Scarlett goose bumps.
“It’s so eerie to hear you talk like that.
” Scarlett pushes me back against the wall, reaching her hand down to grab the front of my pants, palming my stiff cock in too tight fingers through the denim.
I look back at her, a calm settling over me that I’ve never felt before.
Not once in my entire life. “And you might not know who Ash is: but I do. Maybe not all the meaningless details, like what his hobbies are. But the core of who he is. Something gentle in you survived a storm. Most people would’ve broken and rightfully killed Aspen or Jonas or both. ”
I shot your sister. That strange truth will always exist between us. You killed my brother.
“Fuck, Scarlett.” I put my hand over hers, pressing them both down against my crotch.
My hips rock a little of their own accord.
I can wait until later, but I wish I hadn’t just climbed into that bed last night and passed out.
When I woke up, Scarlett was in my arms. I could’ve fucked us both to sleep last night.
“I’ll make myself into a human being worth your time. ”
“You already are worth my time, Ash. You’ve seen what I do to people that aren’t.” She puts her arms around my neck and kisses me again, the flashing lights cutting through my half-closed lids and blinding me to everything around us. “Now, watch this.”
Scarlett saunters over to one of the machines, reaching into her pocket for some change.
The machine doesn’t take it. Scarlett looks around for a coin slot and then sighs.
“Right.” She tugs out a prepaid debit card and then swipes it, giving me a saucy look over one shoulder. I notice her pulse, strong and hot. In her ears, I bet she can hear the same sound that I am: doki-doki, doki-doki. “Watch this.”
I step up behind her, wrapping my arms around her middle and resting my chin on her shoulder.
In the reflection of us on the claw machine glass, I can see myself smiling. I don’t recognize that person at all. I’ve never seen him before. Hello, Ash.
Scarlett tries to win one of the key chains inside the machine. Unsuccessful. I think it’s rigged. The claw had zero grab to it when it closed over the small box.
After eleven tries, Scarlett turns back to me and pats me on the chest. She’s absolutely livid at not being able to win anything. Kawaii. I want to laugh, but I’m worried that it might genuinely hurt her, after the loss she suffered on the Prescott track. The race that I won at her expense.
“The fact that you even tried to win something for me is what matters. You’re quite chivalrous, love,” I say, more boldly flirtatious than Scarlett expected. I step into her space, trapping her between my body and the claw machine.
Scarlett’s cheeks turn pink. From a blush? Or is that just light from a nearby machine?
“Oh, Queen!” Bastian calls out, bringing Scarlett and me back to earth. Disappointment flickers on both our faces before I take a reluctant step back.
I think we briefly forgot that we had people waiting for us. Not just that, but we’re in public with creeps like Jonas and Chet for enemies. Everything is dangerous, all the time.
“I’ll try again after we finish talking to Hype, okay?” she says with this over-the-top flirtatious grin. It works on me, that smile. All of the colors flashing over her face. The daring outfit. Her sweet scent.
“You’re good at everything else,” I remind her. “It’s okay if you’re not a claw machine expert, too.”
Scarlett doesn’t look like she agrees with that statement whatsoever.
“What kind of shake do you want? It’s on me.” I’m given the most outrageous, campy wink as Scarlett adjusts the pair of red sunglasses resting in her dark hair. “Come on, sweetheart. Just tell me what you like.”
Since the moment I met this woman, I knew we were doomed. I knew we were doomed in the way of lovers caught in the winds of a prophecy. I knew it. Not for one second between then and now did I allow myself to believe in something beautiful, pure, and perfect.
I do then. I believe it. I believe that Scarlett knows how to get us all out of this safely. I fucking believe it.
My hand clamps over my mouth, trembling.
I take another step back from her, those sensuous lips of hers twisted in a wry smile. She has two dimples on either side of her mouth. Four total. I didn’t know a person could have double dimples.
“Sit down, hime-sama.” Scarlett reaches out and grabs me by the arm, jerking me toward the table. I’m pushed back down into the same seat as before.
“Hime-sama?” I repeat belatedly. That means princess.
“Sit. Stay. I’ll be right back.” She takes off for the counter to order and I turn to look after her, catching the gazes of the other three boys by accident. Alexei dips his chin for me. Bohnes smirks. Widow seems perplexed.
“Fuck, Ash. Do you like it when she talks to you like that?” he asks me, and I laugh as Nisha, Bastian, and Hype engage in their own whispered conversation across the table. Probably about us. I don’t mind though.
I watch Scarlett order whatever random flavor for me (doesn’t matter because I don’t know what I want).
That’s the answer then, isn’t it?
“I have no idea,” I admit, shrugging loosely, eyes still locked on Scarlett. She’s giving me the space I need to figure all of that out. I don’t have to know the answer to anything right now.
“Can we finally get down to business?” Nisha asks, sighing.
Her eyes are on Hype as the girl sucks angrily on the straw of a milkshake and glares at anyone and everything.
Bastian’s arms are folded over his chest as he yawns and shakes his head, like he finds both of his love-obsessed friends obnoxious.
“My girl is here because I convinced her to hear you out against her better judgment. Start talking.”
“Not sure why you all asked me to look into who was in charge of the Borisov Group: as of today, it’s Alexei Borisov,” Hype grumbles, sucking on her straw noisily.
I glance over at Alexei, looking for a reaction. He doesn’t respond. He just stands there, folding his arms and waiting. Sharp lips pressed flat as he rolls that thought around in his head. Alexei is going to be the head of the Borisov Group? But of course he is.
Alexei’s pale brow twitches, disturbed by the sticky table we’re sitting at.
His green eyes are locked onto it, even as his mind is scheming.
I steal a few napkins from the dispenser and try to wipe some stuck-on sprinkles off.
Alexei notices my effort and tosses a wet wipe package onto the table in front of me.
For his sake, I use it to sterilize the surface on our half of the tabletop.
The arcade is relatively quiet. I can hear someone slamming buttons on a machine.
Cursing at it. I hear the sound of a winning jingle (maybe not all of the machines are rigged).
Bohnes is still obsessively staring after Scarlett.
I can feel Alexei and Widow against my back, either two horrific threats or two capable accomplices. The latter.
If Scarlett says I can trust them, then I will. That’s it. Easy as that.
“What? You four can’t talk without Scarlett around?” Nisha grumbles, drumming ringed fingers against the tabletop.
“We can. We choose not to,” Bohnes replies with a loose shrug.
“Yes, we know about Alexei. On paperwork, he’s in charge.
Practically speaking, who has been running the Borisov Group’s daily operations between Pavel’s death and now.
Tell us something useful, Hype. Earn your keep.
” Bohnes leans in toward me, like we’re co-conspirators.
Not like. We are. I turn toward him, too, my mouth twitching at the edges.
“This is why I don’t work with middle-class brats. ”
I laugh, thoroughly charmed.
Hype slaps her palm down on the table, causing Basti to jump and Nisha to sigh dramatically. Scarlett sweeps in, arriving in the nick of time. She leans down to whisper in my ear.