Chapter 5
Widow
I park in Scarlett’s space since she’s a few seconds behind me with the Devil. Her fault for agreeing to let Ash ride with her at the last minute (as opposed to in the trunk). The early bird gets the worm.
“Are you kidding me, you dumb-shit fuckboy?” she growls out, leaning into my open window and trying to snatch the keys from the Stingray’s ignition.
I hold them out of her reach, climbing from the car before she can assault me.
I’ll have to be careful with these keys or she’ll pinch ‘em from me during our library period together.
I scan the street for activity. Don’t see anything. Yet.
“Move your car, Widow, or I’ll move it for you.” Scarlett puts her hands on her hips, facing off against me. I very purposefully tuck the keys into my front pocket, pushing them all the way down with my fingers.
“Make me.” My voice is cool. I’m not upset though.
I’m…something else altogether. My emotions are ping-ponging all over the place.
Last night was weird. Eating food cooked by Ash.
Hanging out in a kitchen that’s bigger than some people’s houses.
Sleeping in a freakishly large bed in a cavernous bedroom.
“You want to go there, huh?” she asks, pressing her breasts against me and looking up into my face. “Because I can always steal your car again.” A pause. A smirk. “Oh wait, I forged your signature on the title, so I guess I already did.”
Scarlett’s palms slide up my stomach to my chest, curling over my shoulders. Fuck. The way Bohnes was screwing her into the wall last night was… Goddamn. I want that, too.
Right now. Right here.
“You think I care if my woman holds onto the title for our car?” My smile is full of shit. I feel possessive over both the woman and the car. It’s all mine. Her other boys, too. They’re also sort of mine, aren’t they?
“Hey.” A guy walks up to me, edging around the Stingray like he’s nervous. He should be. The look I give him isn’t just cool but frigid. How dare he walk up on me when I’m vibing with my girl?
“What?” I snap, and he cringes. Scarlett sighs and tries to steal my keys.
I manage to get a hold of her wrist, and she curses at me.
Attempt thwarted. Some of her girls are popping their heads up from their spots on the steps, watching us cautiously.
If needed, they’d swarm me. Take me down. Protect Scarlett.
That makes me feel better.
“I got told by a bunch of dudes who hang around in the woods out back that all the hired muscle left yesterday,” the guy says, shifting his foot against the dirty sidewalk. Somebody spray-painted the words No Dancing Allowed on the curb next to my car.
I dig around in my pocket and draw out some of the cash I stole from Ash’s house.
It was in one of his bedroom drawers, so I took it along with the Ruger.
Eight hundred bucks. I’ll start paying my crew with this.
Like Scarlett, I’m stubborn. I’ll earn my own money.
The guy takes it with a mumbled thanks and scuttles off.
“Look at you,” Scarlett teases, playing with the sleeve of my jacket.
Still one that belongs to Bohnes. I miss my shitty hand-me-down clothes.
They had…I dunno, legitimacy to them? Besides, this goth shit is not my thing.
What’s worse though is Alexei’s wardrobe.
Ain’t about to dress like some yuppie bitch.
“Look at me?” I repeat, still a little off-kilter.
A little fucked-up from yesterday. “You’re surprised I’ve got these boys running errands for me?
” I’m teasing, but it doesn’t sound that way.
Scarlett picks up on it, meeting the challenge.
I love this, our back-and-forth. It’s a good way to work off all this excess energy I’ve got.
I exhale. Flex my hands. Catch sight of Bohnes, Alexei, and Ash moving down the sidewalk to join us.
“Not surprised about that. Just surprised at how quick it happened.” Scarlett gives me an odd look.
“Five years wasted in juvie when you could’ve been out here by my side.
Shame.” Her hands are parked on her hips, that tight silk blouse bunching expertly around her tits.
Christ. I blink it off and smirk, reaching out to chuck her chin with my fingers.
She tries to slap me off, but I take her hand in mine and squeeze. Doesn’t fight me on that at least.
“Turn me into a cuck bitch, and I can’t even chuck your chin?” I ask, cocky even to my own ears.
Scarlett makes a face, releasing my hand and then letting me smooth a thumb along her jaw while she glares at me.
“Happy now, Cuck?” she shoots back, and my blood boils. I release her as the other boys pause beside us. Bohnes, hunched in a black sweater. Ash, hidden behind a mask and a hood. Alexei…wearing a suit.
“Thrilled,” I return with a curl of my lip.
Scarlett smirks.
“Alright, y’all. We’ve got some errands to run.
You gonna be good boys for me today?” She pouts, using the overly long sleeves of her blouse to cover her fingers, pressing the bundled fabric against her perfectly slutty lips.
My heartbeat picks up. My cock swells inside my jeans.
I work my jaw, pretending to be unaffected by her charms.
I’m sweating, man. That’s how into my wife I am.
“Good boys? Why are you so on this dog metaphor shit?” I scoff, looking away. Searching the street again. Bohnes, too, is preoccupied with the environment, keen-eyed and viciously thorough in his sweep. That son of a bitch always knows exactly what to do. He’s frustratingly competent.
“Are you using the safe word, Widow?” Scarlett asks mockingly, resting her hand against my arm.
I’m obsessed with it now, all this casual touch stuff.
It’s electric whenever our skin brushes.
I want more of that. “Did I hear you say parking space? No? Then be a good boy for me and I’ll give you a treat later. ”
“It’ll have to be quite the treat,” Alexei remarks, straightening his tie and then fidgeting with his needles like he’s considering stabbing the next person who walks too close to him.
He looks like a wet cat, an expensive one with a long pedigree and sharp claws.
“To make up for the horrors of Prescott High.”
“Hey Marie!” some dude calls out as he bounces up the front steps. “You’re awesome!”
“Hell yea, Marie. A mob guy?” another says as he strides past, nodding in approval. “Fuck yeah, man.”
“Yo, Marie!” This raucous shout echoes all the way down from the roof. “Is your family hiring?”
There’s no shortage of commentary this morning.
Why would there be? The Russian mob rolled up on the school. We left with them. We’re alive to attend this garbage institution another day. Alexei is the most popular guy in school now. I feel sorry for him.
Alexei and I exchange a look, and I know he knows that I feel sorry for him and Ash. They might’ve forgotten the blow job, but I haven’t. Who the hell does that Burt guy think he is, peeping on us like that? It’s sick.
“What are our chances of serious trouble today?” I ask Bohnes and he shrugs.
“Fifty-fifty. But only until the mayor decides which of us he can most easily kill without bringing the mob down on himself. You or me, I’d guess. They don’t know we have Hype as a hacker, and that we’re going to ruin their lives.” Bohnes sighs dramatically. “It’s all about who you know, isn’t it?”
He turns and takes off up the steps, pausing at the top like he doesn’t want to go in alone, like he expects the rest of us to follow.
It’s all about who you know, huh? I look over at Alexei in his suit and gloves.
Ash, hidden away behind a mask with a psychotic grin printed across the front.
Scarlett herself, peering at me with a knowing expression.
She and I are the same. She always knows what’s going through my head. It’s like being in love with a mindreader.
“Would you be particularly bothered if I shadowed you today?” Ash asks me, and I sigh, giving Scarlett a look.
“You see how much I love you?” I growl, teasing her chin again with my fingers. Scarlett pretends to bite me.
“Nah, you love him, too,” she whispers, and it’s not quite the truth but it’s not…not the truth either. When I think about hanging out with Ash, I’m not upset by the idea. The stuff he said, about how it’s easier to face the dark together instead of all alone, that hurt deep.
I jerk my head for Ash to follow along behind me. “Come on, Rich Boy. Enjoy the culture.”
Scarlett stifles a laugh as the pair of us turn to head up the steps together.
I have a friend at Prescott High. First one. First real friend.
Yeah, I’m sold on the damn fairy tale.
Taking Ash to the library is bizarre.
This is my space with Scarlett. But he’s so weird. He drifts off into the stacks with a smile, fingers running across the spines like he’s mesmerized. He has the samurai key chain attached to a denim belt loop, but thankfully he left the stuffed frog in the car. The hell is my life?
It’s good. I’m not complaining. Just…what the hell is it?
“Scarlett!” One of the librarians scurries across the room to grab my woman by the shoulders. “You didn’t go to the trouble of baking just for us, did you?”
The tough ol’ Prescott broad steals the tray of cookies from Scarlett’s outstretched hands without waiting for an answer.
“I didn’t actually,” Scarlett replies, chuckling. “One of my boyfriends did. I have four of them, did you know that, Agnes?”
“Of course you do. You’re adorable.” The old woman absconds with the cookies that Ash baked last night, stacked in one of Alexei’s deluxe tupperware containers. Glass, with a matching lid and everything.
I’m given an assessing look by the second librarian as she glares at me through horn-rimmed glasses, her eyes just barely visible above the high countertop.
Seems like maybe she’s noticed the matching ink on Scarlett’s and my hands and feels some type of way about it.
I know what I look like. If I were that lady, I’d be worried about Scarlett, too.