Chapter 14 – Scarlet
14
SCARLET
H e was glad he was wrong? Why was that?
I didn’t say anything as he headed back inside to refill our glasses, and I folded my hands over my stomach, frowning at the cityscape.
Noms sank to her knees beside me, balling her eyes out as Brent drew in his last, shaky breath. He’d not even noticed me shooting him up again, not stirring from the slumber he’d succumbed to. The place we were in was a rundown shack, one bedroom, and I’d been crashing on the filthy couch, surrounded by mess. Syringes were scattered around the place, and I’d been scared I’d get jabbed, and had to check the couch over before sleeping on it. I’d made sure to wear shoes in the house, a pair I’d stolen from someone’s porch before catching the bus.
“We shouldn’t have done this,” Noms sobbed, and I snatched up her hand.
“He was hurting you, Noms. This life, you deserve better. I know this is all you’ve known for a while, but this, this is shit. We’re going to get you help, and everything is going to be okay. I promise.” I stared into those dull blue eyes, the fire having been nearly snuffed out by this stain of a human.
I may have given up on myself to some degree, but seeing her living like this, no, I wouldn’t allow it. I’d do what had to be done to save the one person who had helped me survive my shitty childhood and family. The one person who I knew wouldn’t turn her back on me despite this hell she was in. She’d picked up my call, and as soon as I’d said who I was, she was ready to take me in, to be there for me. I may have been beyond saving, but she wasn’t.
“How can you promise that?” she whispered as she sniffled, staring down at Brent’s now still body.
“Because, just like when we were at school, we’ll stick by one another. Always, right?” I said, squeezing her hand and forcing her to look back at me again.
She wiped at her eyes, looking like a shell of the person she’d been a year ago. Her cheeks were sunken, and she was far too skinny.
“Right,” she whimpered.
“Good, now, where does he hide all the cash? We’re going to get out of here, start fresh.” I glanced around the shitty room, wondering where he kept it. There wasn’t much in here apart from the stained mattress on the floor and a dresser to the side, trash all over the place.
“In a vegetable bag in the freezer. The peas, I think,” she said with a sniffle.
“Good, let’s go. We can do this. I’m here, I’ll always be here for you,” I vowed as I dragged her from the room and away from the man who would’ve had her dead before she was thirty.
I dug through the freezer, finding the bag of cash under a few other bags, and we left that foul house behind .
“Here you go.” Tyrone handed me another full glass of wine, and I downed a hefty gulp as he sat back down across from me, perched on the edge of it as he nursed his whiskey. “So, what did you do when you first got to Starwin city after that?”
“Got Noms into rehab with the money we stole from that bastard. I lived on the streets while she was there, using what little money I had left just for food until I was able to find a crappy job. I was able to find a room for rent, and I slowly built my way up to an apartment in a few months in a rundown part of the city. Then Noms got out, clean and on the mend, and she got into stripping and sex work. Amazingly, she didn’t slip backwards, which is a miracle, and we lived together for quite some time. I met someone eventually, we moved apart, and she got a nicer place. That was where I began my path of dead-end relationships with wretched men until Tommy, who ended up just being another number on that list, while she danced and slept her way to Taboo Kisses , where the real money started coming in,” I said with a scoff, and he chuckled.
“We pay our girls well.”
“Yeah, well, I always wound up back at hers between men, sharing her rent or paying board until I dove into another relationship head first that was destined for disaster,” I said with a shake of my head. “I guess because I never had a good relationship to learn from, I didn’t know how to have one. I laughed at all the rom-coms and shows with them, thinking they were ridiculous. I know how it really is a lot of the time, the toxicity, the controlling men, the abuse, the nasty words. It’s never like the movies and shows, not really.” I chewed my cheek before sipping my wine, hating how I could feel him gazing at me with a strange look .
“Good relationships exist,” he said softly as before sipping his glass.
“Really? You had one?” I smirked, and he sighed.
“No, I don’t have time for that right now.”
“Not even when you were younger?”
“No. I figured I’d sort that out when life was more stable.”
“How is that going for you?” I said, and he gave me a less-than-enthused look. “How were your parents at least?” I asked, shifting the topic back to family. “Were they loving to one another?”
“Of course. My father doted on our mother, sure, they had their issues, as do all couples, but they were strong together. Then again, she got her hands dirty as well.”
“How so?” I leaned forward, intrigued by this as he smirked.
“Mom worked as an assassin for my father in the early days, before anyone knew who she was involved with. Way before we were even thought of, let alone born. Women make good undercover killers,” he said, shaking his head, a hint of pride in his tone, but then his face dropped. “We never did find out exactly who orchestrated the car bombing that took them out. If it was a rival family or someone who had issues with my mother. She’d come from a family involved with ours, hence how my parents got involved.”
“I’m sorry you lost them,” I said softly, and he nodded, his face hardening.
“Shit happens in this life, you just have to move on and deal with it. But she was a force to be reckoned with. A woman unafraid to get her hands dirty. My father, he was a man who ruled with an iron first, kept all the families in line. Something I’m trying to maintain.” He leaned back, taking a swig of his whiskey, and I mimicked him with my wine .
“Sounds like big shoes to fill.”
“If he could do it, then so can I. I was groomed for it, taught everything.” He frowned as he looked down at his glass. “It’s my duty. I have to keep his legacy alive and intact. And he never would have stood for this stunt the Russos pulled. They’ll pay for this entire fiasco.” He met my gaze with a hardened look of steel that made me swallow. I had no doubt that by the time this week was through, the Russos would be no more.
And I didn’t feel the slightest bit of guilt.
It didn't take long before our conversation waned and we sat in comfortable silence for some time, enjoying the moment of peace and freedom. Well, whatever freedom this was, although the wine was making me care less about all of that right now, since Tyrone had refilled my glass a few times more now.
"Let's head in, see how the other two are going," Tyrone finally said, breaking the quietness. The soft look he gave me could have been mistaken for tenderness, but then it was gone as he rose and offered me his hand.
I accepted, allowing him to pull me to my feet and guide me inside, my empty wine glass dangling from my fingers. The welcome buzz was making me light-headed, but I melted into the feeling, enjoying the way all my worries faded away.
We found Julian and Cristian in the living room, hunched over a card game spread out on the coffee table. They both looked up as we entered.
"Well, well, look who's back," Cristian smirked, his eyes glinting mischievously. He gestured to a plate piled high with golden, flaky pastries on the table. "Care for a sweet treat, kitten?"
Something about his smirk made me pause, but the alcohol coursing through my veins pushed aside any hesitation. "Don't mind if I do," I replied, plopping down on the couch and snagging a pastry. It was still warm, the buttery layers melting on my tongue. Food was a good idea with how many glasses of wine I'd downed.
"Why don't you join us for a game?" Cristian suggested, shuffling the deck with practiced ease. "Unless you're too tipsy to remember the rules."
I scoffed, licking sugar from my fingers. "Please. I could beat you blindfolded, I'm barely tipsy."
Julian chuckled, shaking his head. "Careful, Cristian. Sounds like a challenge to me."
Tyrone cleared his throat. "I'll grab another bottle of wine for you, Scarlet."
"No more for me, we need our wits about us," Julian said steadily, and I pursed my lips. I'd noticed Tyrone hadn't refilled his glass either. As was to be expected of the man who had to remain steadfast and ready at all times. A weight I couldn't imagine shouldering.
As Tyrone headed into the kitchen, I settled in at the table, accepting the hand Cristian dealt me. The tension from earlier seemed to have evaporated, replaced by an almost cozy atmosphere. It was strange how quickly things could shift in this place.
"Alright, boys," I said, arranging my cards. "Let's see what you've got."
"Prepare to have your ass handed to you, kitten," Cristian teased, and I snorted. Although, considering just who I was playing with, I didn't doubt he'd own my ass with ease .
Tyrone returned with the now open bottle of wine, setting it on the table by me before accepting his own hand of cards.
As we played, I found myself reaching for the wine bottle more frequently than I should have. After the morning's events, I craved some escape, and the smooth, rich liquid seemed to offer just that.
Before long, I'd downed an entire bottle to myself and devolved into a giggling mess, the card game becoming pointless.
Tyrone cracked a smile when Cristian coaxed me into sharing some of my horror dating stories. The alcohol had loosened my tongue, and I found myself spilling embarrassing tales I'd normally keep locked away.
"What? He really said that?" Julian chuckled, shaking his head at one particularly awful tale. His eyes sparkled with amusement, a rare sight that made me feel oddly proud.
I nodded, hiccuping slightly. "Yep. Told me I reminded him of his mother. Talk about a mood killer. Then said he was always close with his mother." I grimaced, earning another round of chuckles from the brothers.
As the day wore on, Julian opened up a bit, surprising me with his candor. Tyrone had suggested he enjoy a few more drinks, while Cristian had brought the brownies over for us to enjoy, and I'd happily nibbled on a few.
So now we were all in pleasant moods, our tension and walls having dissipated, only Tyrone remaining entirely sober.
I caught Tyrone's eye as I finished recounting a disastrous customer at work which had ended comically with him walking into the glass door in his fit of rage. Tyrone's stoic expression softened ever so slightly as our gazes locked. Though he maintained his composure, there was a glimmer of amusement in his dark eyes that hadn't been there before .
As Julian and Cristian laughed at my story, I noticed Tyrone's gaze sweep over us all. His shoulders seemed to relax a fraction, the ever-present tension easing from his jawline. For a brief moment, a ghost of a smile played at the corners of his mouth.
He leaned back in his chair, now that we'd wound up around the dining table swirling the remnants of his whiskey. His eyes lingered on Cristian, whose face was red as he clapped, his laughter having devolved into gasping for air and clapping his hands, which had me in hysterical fits. It was clear that seeing his volatile brother in such a lighthearted state was a rarity.
It took us a moment to gather ourselves, and then Julian cracked another joke, eliciting more giggles from Cristian and me. I cast Tyrone another glance, and I caught a flash of warmth in his expression. It was quickly masked, but not before I glimpsed a hint of fondness there.
As the giggles and snorts died down, Tyrone's gaze met mine again. There was a softness there, barely perceptible but unmistakable. He raised his glass in a subtle toast, a silent acknowledgment of the unexpected joy permeating the room.
"You know what I can't stop thinking about? That horror date of yours, pyro. I can't believe that prick bailed out the back door and left you with the bill. Why would anyone do that? I mean, you're pretty good on the eyes, and witty," Julian mused as he swirled his glass thoughtfully, clearly still bothered by my tale.
"Guess I was just too much for him," I said with a sharp laugh. "Some men can't handle a woman with snark. He was probably thinking ahead on how much I'd butt heads if we became a couple."
"Possibly." Those dark eyes held mine, a flicker of something in their depths before he took a swig of his whiskey. " Never had an actual girlfriend myself," he admitted, his voice tinged with a hint of regret. "Just doesn't seem ideal in this life. Though I do hope to find a strong woman someday to carry on the family legacy." His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken implications.
Curious, and emboldened by the wine, I turned to Tyrone. "What about you? Ever had a girlfriend? You said you hadn't had a good relationship, so did you have a messy one?" I asked, my eyes searching his steeled face for any hint of emotion.
He shook his head, his expression unreadable. "No. Cristian's the only one of us who has had a partner of any kind." The words were clipped, matter-of-fact, but I sensed a story behind them.
I frowned, surprised by this revelation. "Really? You guys didn't date at all?" The question tumbled out before I could stop it, my filter completely dissolved by the alcohol.
Tyrone shrugged, his broad shoulders rising and falling in a smooth motion. "Like I said before, it just doesn't seem like the right time for it. Nothing is stable enough."
"Is stability ever really possible?" I said quickly.
He scoffed. "Yeah, you have a point." His dark eyes met mine, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of something - longing, perhaps? - before it vanished, replaced by his usual mask of indifference.
I couldn't help but press further, my curiosity getting the better of me. He'd said he'd figure it out later on in life, but was it something he actually wanted, or something he felt pressured to have to carry on the family legacy? "But you do want it, right? For yourself, not just as a means of carrying on the family business?" I asked Tyrone, leaning forward slightly.
"It's not that simple," he said, his voice low and measured. " Our life... it complicates things. We can't always have what we want, we need to think of the bigger picture."
He reached for the whiskey bottle, pouring himself another glass. The amber liquid swirled in the crystal tumbler as he brought it to his lips, taking a long sip. Heavy silence stretched between us, and Cristian began drumming his fingers on the table, glancing around at all of us.
Suddenly, Tyrone's phone buzzed, breaking the suffocating quietness that had descended. He pulled it out, his expression hardening as he glanced at the screen. Without a word, he stood up, downing the rest of his whiskey in one gulp.
"I'll be in my room," he announced, his tone leaving no room for argument. "I need to take this call."
With that, he strode out of the room, leaving me alone with Julian and Cristian.
"So, want to play another game?" Cristian asked, a smile teasing his lips.
I arched a brow, my head swirling from all the wine. "What are you thinking?"