Chapter 2
Scarlett
The mayor’s goons are crawling all over Emma’s apartment. There’s neither hide nor hair of her, but several of my girls claim to have seen Ash in his new blue Shelby with Miss Emma Jean Thompson. With him refusing to answer the phone, it looks bad. I know it does.
I’m still right. His black eyes, like a scream wrapped around a bloody heart. Telltale eyes.
We race the pair of cars down Main Street, pulling over in front of the tattoo parlor, so a boy in a dark hoodie and holey jeans can slip into the passenger seat of the Chevelle.
Alexei, the fuck were you doing over here?
We start driving again, picking up speed until we’re squealing through the streets and Bohnes is putting me through my paces.
Widow is silent, hands tight against his denim thighs. Watching me.
If someone offered Alexis big money for my head, she’d take the deal. She’d take it because she’s desperate. She’d take it because she’s resentful toward me. She’d take it because humans are greedy animals.
The four of us arrive at Bohnes’ safe house together, just a handful of monsters gallivanting in the woods.
The Stingray glides onto the gravel beside the Chevelle. Bohnes climbs out and opens the sliding metal doors, so we can move the cars inside. He closes them again as the rest of us climb out, standing on packed earth floors in a cold, sad room.
I see why Bohnes moved Alexei into Emma Jean’s apartment. Because of the cold.
He also probably moved Alexei because he doesn’t trust Ash.
Alexei Grove Borisov, our resident blond mob brat, makes quick work of obliterating the few feet of space between him and me.
He cages me in against the side of Widow’s purple Vette, a gloved hand on the roof on either side of me.
I lift a brow. Feels like it’s been ages since we’ve seen each other. Really, it’s only been two days.
“I’m trying to get out of the car, Marie.
” I call Alexei by the name on his fake ID: Alex Marie Jennings.
If I stay saucy, maybe I’ll also stay sane.
My own sister, a Prescott girl, a snitch?
Somebody I was trying to save from this neighborhood and carry out on my back.
She’d double-cross me, huh? She’d stab me in the back?
I don’t want to accept it, but I can see the truth in it.
Snitches get stitches and end up in ditches.
Ash, though? No. No way.
I saw him for who he was from the very beginning: Aspen’s biggest victim. The mayor’s biggest victim.
“What happened?” Alexei demands, chin high, princely blond hair falling lavishly across his forehead.
It’s so bright and pure, it looks like frosting.
His expression though? Mob baby through and through.
His mossy eyes drag their way down my body and then crawl ever so slowly back up to my face.
With two fingers, he drags his skeleton-maw mask down to his chin, revealing pouty lips.
“I heard it from Bohnes on the drive, but I want to hear it from you.”
“No sense in repeating the story,” I sigh, trying to duck under his arm. He grabs me around the waist, pulling my back to his front. With his hands in front of me, he carefully tugs off his gloves. One bare palm ends up like a hot brand against my belly, snuck up under the fabric of my t-shirt.
With his other hand, Alexei curls his long fingers around the waistband of my sweatpants, brushing the edge of my panties.
This is the most possessive he’s ever been toward me.
I think he’s starting to defrost a little bit.
Good for him. Like Widow, like Bohnes, he’s offering me comfort over Alexis.
Comfort for Ash.
I squeeze his hands and push back another surge of raw emotion. It’s useless to me. Feelings don’t matter. Actions do. Emotions are luxuries that I can’t afford. I’m a moron. Such a moron. I let my sister get one up on me.
“I haven’t seen you in nearly forty-eight hours.
” Alexei is absolutely incensed, punctuating the words with a righteous sniff.
A single hot finger slides along the waistband of my panties.
Stroking. Petting. Touching. “You were assaulted in my absence. Disrespected at the track while under my patronage. Chased by the mayor’s mercenaries.
I must know every single fucking detail. ”
His molten fingertip drags across my hip bone, stirring desire in my lower belly. A tightening of my muscles. A steady exhale. Alexei smells like soap and antiseptics. He sounds like cold hell.
“See? You already know the sordid tale.” I grab onto his wrist, trying to stop the mind-numbing back-and-forth of that scandalous finger. Alexei cups my pussy. Just like that. Nice, hard cup. A squeeze. He whispers in my ear, stirring my hair.
“You’re wound up. Taut.” A weird pause. A shudder behind me. “Wet.”
I push his hands off and, unlike Widow earlier, Alexei lets me go.
I step away from both of them, closer to my Nightmare.
Bohnes is studying me with a disturbing frown, like he’s trying to decide if my judgment is compromised.
Widow scowls, folding his arms and staring at the warehouse doors instead of me.
“I’m always wet, Alexei.” My tone is dry, unbothered. Bullshit. I’m upset. I’m—I’m hot even though it’s cold. I slip the jacket off and toss it back to Bohnes. “What’s your plan, Marie? To fuck the tension outta me?”
“If necessary.” Alexei folds his arms, eyes adamantine. “I’m concerned. You’re pale, Scarlett.”
“She’s struggling, bad.” Widow shifts closer to Alexei, the pair of them exchanging a tense look that only lasts until Alexei notices the dirty socks on Widow’s feet.
Uh-oh. Alexei gags as he tugs new gloves on and Widow snorts a disbelieving laugh.
“Scarlett is fighting for Ash tooth and nail when we should be planning his murder.”
“Ash killed Emma Jean?” Alexei clarifies, but I’m already shaking my head. I can’t believe Alexei touched me like that. Willingly. Perversely. Possessively. Holy shit. Mr. Germaphobe has a crush, eh? “If so, he could send more men to this warehouse next. He knows an awful lot of our secrets.”
“Ash did not kill Emma Jean.” I’ll say it as many times as I have to.
“Did he take her? Probably. He knows the inner workings of Jonas and Chet, remember? Have some faith in the guy.” I examine Alexei, noticing that his jaw is as tight as Widow’s.
That his frown is as deep as Bohnes’. They’re going to unite against me on this.
I already have goose bumps. “And he won’t send any men here.
” I tap a finger against my chin in thought.
Alexis. Alexis. Alexis.
She’s the leaky faucet. It’s all coming together.
“Did you see Chet Jr. off successfully, Mr. Borisov?” Bohnes asks, pacing across an old rug that covers the dirt floor, his white trench billowing behind him like the coattails of an ancient spirit. He stops pacing to look over at his coconspirator.
Alexei nods, using long fingers to fix his hoodie-crushed hair. He’s still rocking the emo boy look, and I’d be into it if I weren’t struggling to keep my shattered psyche intact.
“I did.” Alexei stares at Bohnes, and he stares right back.
They have something going on, a plot that I don’t know about.
I consider the severed penis that’s sitting in the glove box of Widow’s car.
On my finger, I have a pair of rings. One is a diamond, the other is a rough circle of metal. Ash and Widow.
I look up as Widow moves close to my left side, his socked feet rough against the earthen floor. He puts a hand on my arm, like he’s trying to brace me for this next bit.
“You heard about her sister then?” Widow queries, and Alexei nods, his expression shifting to something like an apology. His green eyes remind me of a song: “The Moss King” by Ashnikko.
“During the interrogation last night,” Alexei adds, and it’s all that I can do to keep it together.
“This is what you wouldn’t tell me?” I ask Bohnes, whirling on him. He stops pacing and bares his teeth at me. We love each other; we’re just squabbling.
“Didn’t I tell you that I was going to wait for your rich boy toy to say it first?
Seems like Emma Jean had to be the one to spill the tea, as it may be.
” Bohnes lets his head fall back and closes his eyes.
“Your neighbor was fucking your sister and doing her favors. Make sense?” Bohnes cracks one blue eye and turns his head over to look at me.
“Tommy was keeping tabs on Lemon. That’s how Alexis met Aspen in the first place: through Lemon. ”
I don’t know what to say to that.
I keep it movin’.
“Something must’ve happened on Ash’s end.
” I bite my thumbnail in thought. And then my eyes go wide, and it hits me like the graffitied freight train that runs through town.
“Thanksgiving happened. Alexis was up our asses. She must’ve recognized both Alexei and Ash.
If she sold that information to the mayor… ”
I walked us right into this mess.
“Or perhaps Ash simply realized that taking the mayor’s side is a better bet for him.
” Alexei is fidgeting with his sweatshirt in a finicky, murderous way, unzipping and rezipping the front.
He notices and then shivers, removing his gloves again.
Uses an entire bottle of hand sanitizer.
“He can be rich, powerful, and alive. If he continues to help us, he’s headed for an early death.
Explains why he’s ignoring our phone calls. ”
All three of them are imperious tonight, insufferable and smug. I told Nisha that it was more fun when fuckboys bite back. In practice, it’s annoying.
“Bohnes and I are going to race Scarlett,” Widow tells Alexei with the haughty confidence of a grunge king. “Winner takes charge of the Ash situation. We want him dead. She wants to keep fucking him.”