Chapter Twenty-Three #2
“After you poisoned me,” I supplement. When she flinches, I put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m not mad about it. Not anymore. I fucking deserved it. I hate that you got away, but I can’t blame you for running.”
She looks back at me, surprise flaring in her beautiful eyes. She wasn’t expecting me to take accountability—I’m nearly as surprised as she is. This last month has done both of us good.
She clears her throat, offering me a small nod of acknowledgement, and drops her gaze to the floor.
I don’t force her to look at me—not this time.
I wait patiently, giving her the space she needs to talk, even though I want to claw my way out of my skin and interrogate her about whatever secret she’s been keeping. One that has to do with Cain.
Is that why he broke into my bedroom several weeks ago? To talk to her? Fuck, I have to know. Not just because I hate that she’s kept something from me, but because I need to be armed with knowledge to adequately protect her.
“Scarlett, baby,” I prompt. “Talk to me. Please.”
She exhales a long breath. “After I left the apartment that day… Cain caught me in the garage. He was waiting for me. He pinned me against a wall and asked me if I’d given you the antidote. Greyson… he knew. He knew my plans before I made them. He set everything up.”
Shock slams into me like a freight train. I’ve become intimately aware that life is just a chess game to Cain, but this… this goes beyond his usual scope of diabolical behavior. Insane isn’t a strong enough word to describe Cain.
He’s a fucking criminal mastermind.
A memory flashes through my mind. It pulls me back months and months in the past, before Scarlett escaped and I recaptured her. It takes me to the day I got Scarlett flowers and plants, after Cain and I met with Eric. Her brother.
I’d broken into the flower shop where I’d put in an order for Scarlett—it was late at night, and the place was closed, but I wanted to pick everything up while I was nearby. After I’d collected the plants I’d had prepared for Scarlett, I’d gone into the back to peruse bouquets.
Cain was with me.
Cain had picked up the oleander bouquet and suggested Scarlett might like it.
Cain tried to have me killed.
Only… he didn’t. Not if he asked Scarlett about giving me the antidote. No, that bastard gave Scarlett the tool to kill me and the tool to save me. Then, he sat back and watched.
My life is completely meaningless to the man I work for. That is a deep fucking blow. Even the whipping he administered didn’t hurt me this much—but I’m not really hurt.
I’m afraid. There are no limits to what Cain’s willing to do to achieve his goals. And worse, nobody actually knows what his goals are. We’re all playing a guessing game while he’s steering the ship in an unknown direction.
Scarlett keeps talking, heedless of my turmoil.
“I told him I gave you the antidote. He told me he knew who my brother was,” she goes on.
“That Eric Sharpe was Luther Sharpe’s son.
He said something cryptic about needing me out of the way for the prosperity of the Nighthawks and then let me go.
Even pointed me to a car with a faulty tracker and told me where to drop it and continue on foot. ”
What—the—fuck?
But… it makes sense. Cain recently told me he knew of Eric’s identity long before I did, basically since the beginning of this mess.
Cain knew Scarlett is Eric’s sister. He let her go to keep the peace with Eric and to make sure our weapon’s dealer wasn’t distracted.
Then, when it was time to get leverage on Eric, he let Scarlett back into the compound alive…
and mostly stopped encouraging me to kill her.
“Flower,” I murmur, my voice breaking. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
As shocked and horrified as I am, I’m also devastated that Scarlett’s been facing all of this alone, with no support.
“He told me he’d kill me and Eric if I said anything,” she whispers. “I was afraid. I’m still afraid.” Her tears fall harder, and a quiet sob escapes her. “Don’t let him, Greyson. Don’t let him kill Eric, please. I’ll do anything—”
“He won’t.” I inhale a deep breath. Take a beat to mourn my next words, and the terrible impact I know they’ll have on the woman I love. “But you have to do what he asked. Call your brother. If Eric’s cemented as a valuable ally, Cain would have no cause to kill him.”
For all of his faults and sociopathic tendencies, Cain isn’t dumb. We need Eric to sustain ourselves, our operations, and to grow. Eric is too useful an ally to kill. Conversely, Eric as an enemy would be an extremely complicated target to take out.
“I’ll…” she cuts off as the word cracks, inhaling a trembling breath. A change sweeps over her. She goes from shivering and terrified to standing tall. An impassive mask falls over her features as she finds her strength. I’m awed to watch the transformation take shape.
Even now, Scarlett’s mastering her fear. She’s sitting in it, living with it, and still persevering forward.
There will never be a day where I’m even a fraction as strong as she is.
“I’ll do it,” she says. “Not because Cain told me to, but because of what you did when you took the whipping for me. And to protect my brother.” She swallows loudly.
“But I don’t know what I’ll be like after it.
Eric’s the only person who’s ever cared about me, and I’m about to make him think I abandoned him.
That I ran away with a group of assassins I barely know and chose not to tell him.
I’m about to alienate myself from the only connection I have in this world…
” a slight whimper escapes her, and I gather her close.
I don’t think now’s the time to tell her that Eric’s not her only connection in this world; she has me, too.
“Thank you,” I say. “Whatever comes next, Scarlett, I’ll protect you… I just wish it didn’t have to be this way.”
But it does. Our die has been cast, and the graves have been dug. This is the hill we live and die on… but at least we’ll be doing it together.