Chapter 6
Colleratal
Scarlett
My visit with my father unfolded in an unexpectedly positive way, and by the time I returned to the church, my anxiety had evaporated, leaving no trace of the voices and shadows that usually haunted me.
I slipped off my heels as I strolled down the hallway, my sore, bare feet softly tapping against the creaking floorboards.
A brief glance at the altar revealed the four skulls observantly watching me descend into the darkness, their steady presence helping to soothe my remaining nerves.
Once in my room, I turned on some music, fully aware of how it calms the darker corners of my rotting soul.
I quickly shed my work attire, slipping into something tight, black, and comfortable.
Trading my pencil skirt for a mini skirt, I pulled on a pair of black socks, rolled them onto my feet, and laced up my combat boots with precision.
Soon, the warm scent of incense enveloped the room, its smoky vanilla aroma wrapping around me like a weighted blanket.
As I rolled a joint and took a few puffs, I knew the guys would be here any moment.
I left my hair down, running my fingers through my curls instead of a brush, and touched up my makeup, giving my tired, psychotic eyes a dark, smoky allure to complement my overall look.
I replayed my conversation with Gerald in my mind, my heart racing as I made my way toward the altar.
With deliberate care, I lifted each skull and kissed its forehead, lingering with each one as memories flashed before me, reminding me why I was doing this.
I was born this way. I never had a choice.
I never had a fucking chance. Everything had clicked into place after our talk—it all became crystal clear.
I settled on the floor, surrounded by skulls, my gaze drifting to the tanks filled with snakes and spiders beneath the stained glass windows, each creature desperately striving for escape.
I softly glided my fingers over the rosary around my neck and a grin spread across my face as clouds of smoke enveloped me, excitement brewing for the twisted games I had planned.
"You're really into those fucking skulls, aren't you, Doc?" boomed Hunter's voice from behind me, its echo resonating through the empty church.
Still smiling, I turned around still clutching my necklace, rose to my feet, and carefully navigated around the guys' skulls to reach Hunter, who stood with open arms, ready to embrace me. I allowed him to pull me into a hug, but I hesitated to return the tightness he offered; it felt like betraying the guys’ memory with him so close and them watching.
Even though all that remained of them were their bones and the memories I desperately clung to.
"You're early," I remarked, pulling away from the embrace.
"I didn't want to be late," he replied with a hint of sarcasm, producing a Marlboro from a nearly crushed pack and lighting it.
Before I could respond, a sharp knock at the church's front door caught my attention. Without a word, I slipped past Hunter, eager to answer it. I was taken aback to find Kell, Michael, and Jax standing there together, but I welcomed them in and locked the door behind them.
"Did you all come together?" I asked as we entered the side room turned living room, where Hunter now stood, flames flickering along the walls as darkness from outside seeped in through the windows.
"We're all in the same halfway house, so we figured, why not?" Michael replied, flashing a charming smile that revealed his dimples, looking as if he wanted to devour me.
"Smart thinking. I like that." I took a seat while they lingered, awaiting my instructions.
Seeing them squirm was half the fun, so I remained silent a little longer, savoring the sadistic delight in my eyes as my fingers rubbed every worn bead. I needed to remind them who was in charge, and that was me. We were playing my game by my rules, and there was no turning back now.
"Scarlett, what are we doing here?" Jax asked, glancing around with curiosity.
"This is where I live," I announced, nodding to the black leather couch behind them. "Now sit. The four of you will get to know each other while I finish getting ready, and then we’re heading out for a drink," I instructed, striding out of the so-called "living room."
As they whispered among themselves, I sensed their eyes on me while I lifted the skulls from the floor and placed them back on the mantle, lighting new candles and blowing off the dust from my display.
"I wish you guys were here," I whispered, pressing another kiss to their skulls, feeling tears welling up that I quickly blinked away to avoid ruining my makeup. "But don’t worry, I have a new mission now, and I know if you were here, you’d be along for the ride without a second thought."
I sauntered off to my room while they continued their hushed chatter, the creeping feelings of dread and unease beginning to consume me once again.
I swallowed a few more pills to numb the rising anxiety and prayed that the night would go as planned.
With my target in sight, I longed for the freedom his death would bring me—the release that death offers, akin to the high that a junkie always seeks but never truly finds.
I tucked my pocket knife into my bra and slid my arms into my leather jacket, ensuring I had everything I needed to execute the first part of my plan. Just as the hair on my arms prickled, I felt Hunter’s presence behind me, his deep breaths sending a thrill down my spine.
"What’s the plan, Doc?" he asked, his voice low and steady, grounding me in the chaos of my thoughts. I turned slowly to face him, unable to hide the fire flickering in my eyes.
"We’re going to shake things up tonight," I replied, the corner of my mouth lifting in a wicked smile.
The energy in the room shifted, the air crackling with anticipation, even as I felt a familiar thrumming of fear beneath my confidence. Hunter nodded, a spark igniting in his own gaze. He stepped closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper.
"You mean the guys we’re targeting? You’re serious about this? Because if we do this, there’s no going back."
"Exactly," I said, my heart racing. "You need to understand that I'm not just playing games. I'm out for blood."
I pulled back the jacket’s zipper and pulled down the red lace across the neckline of my crop shirt, giving him a glimpse of the knife tucked within my bra—its blade glinting in the low light.
The dark urge inside me awoke, and I realized I was more than ready to embrace the chaos with them, but if I had to embrace it without them I'd still be fine.
Just then, the others entered, breaking the intensity of the moment. Jax, wide-eyed, glanced at Hunter and then back at me, a mixture of excitement and trepidation on his face.
"You’re really wanting us to go on some murder spree, aren’t you?" he asked, his voice a shaky whisper.
"Yeah, and I want all of you with me tonight," I declared, my resolve hardening.
"You got a taste of it in the house, but this—" I gestured around the room, my voice a venomous hiss, "this is the real thing. We’re not just surviving anymore; we’re living, and we’re going to make a fucking statement. "
Michael grinned devilishly. "Hell yeah. This is going to be fucking insane. Just tell us what you want us to do, hermosa."
Kellin stood there with his hands in his pockets, his green eyes full of wonder and desire, and it took all that I had not to pounce on him, the looks he was throwing out had my blood flowing like lava and my thighs quivering, aching to be touched.
I could sense the adrenaline coursing through them already, their eagerness to delve into the dark side again mingling with the palpable tension that hung in the air.
"First, we’ll need masks—disguises—for what comes next. For our faces to be hidden from prying eyes."
Hunter stepped forward, mimicking the action of removing a mask over his face, the movement strewn with mockery. "What, you think we need to protect our pretty faces? Come on, we’re not scared."
I chuckled, the absurdity settling amidst the tension, and then I grew solemn again. “It’s not about being scared—it’s about being smart. We’ll need concealment for the things we don’t want anyone to find out."
"You got a stash of masks here?" Kell asked, scanning the room.
I nodded and pointed toward a wooden trunk in the corner, cloaked in shadow with a soft black blanket draped over the top. "In there. Grab whatever you think fits your vibe."
The trunk creaked as they rifled through, laughter puncturing our dark circle as they tried on various masks—some sinister, others absurd.
As my boys tried on their disguises, I couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride.
A fucked up, twisted band of misfits ready to charge into the night.
They slipped into their roles easily, embodying the thrill of the unknown without second guessing a thing.
They were perfect to play the part I needed them to.
But that's why I chose them. Murder. Crime.
Weapons. They were exactly what I was looking for.
My shit wouldn't be anything new to them—some might even teach me a thing or two.
But at the end when my journey is over, it's over.
Whether we end up like me and the guys or we go our separate ways, there's one thing I can say for certain—I will be alone in whatever comes after.
Dead or alive, we don't take things further than our crimes.
I'm not looking for love—I already found it.
Not once or twice, but four times, and my heart has no more love to give out.
“Alright,” I said, clapping my hands together to get their attention. “Let’s go. Remember, keep your cool, and always stay alert.” I put a blonde wig over my hair and pop colored contacts in my eyes, trying to alter my appearance as well.