Chapter 33
Widow
Scarlett is stalking me in the woods.
I pause and turn back to look at her, emerging from behind a tree with a grin. There are all sorts of half-dressed girls running around this property now that her crew’s arrived on the scene. I need to start memorizing all of their names and faces so I know exactly what’s going on at all times.
I’ll keep testing the boys of Prescott, see if there’s any hidden talent in the male population. Wouldn’t that be nice, if I could contribute some of my own crew?
I force my thoughts to neutral territory, so I don’t freak out. Freaking out right now won’t help anyone, least of all Alexei and Ash. Fuck, they must be…I don’t know how they held themselves back when they walked up and saw Burt smirking at them.
If there ever comes a day where I could kill Burt and get away with it—
Fingers snap in front of my face.
I grab onto Scarlett’s wrist, blinking myself back to the moment. We’re at the edge of the property near the front entrance, the Stingray parked nearby. There’s an impressive gate, fence, and security system at this place. The hacker chick is up at the house trying to figure it all out.
“What’s going on inside that handsome head?” Scarlett wonders aloud, relaxing her arm until I let go of her.
“I’m distracted. Shit, sorry.” I’m sure I could’ve still reacted to a threat, but…maybe not. I have got to calm down.
I’m going to freak out anyway. It feels like an unstoppable tide, all of this fucking rage and energy.
I move away from Scarlett, stalking through the woods hoping for someone to kill.
There’s nobody, so I stop where I am, putting my right palm out on the trunk of a tree.
Breathing through all of my anger. Shaking through it.
Ash killed Maryanne. She’s dead. That stupid bitch is dead.
And Trish, she’s suffering alone in a shipping container with a single bare lightbulb. As for my uncle?
Yeah. I got him. My first kill, and it felt amazing. I loved the power that murder gave me.
I exhale. Close my eyes. Open them because I’m in the woods looking for mobsters.
I refuse to be useless in this group, and let’s be frank: Bohnes is a difficult man to beat.
Like, Jesus Christ, is he even a living man?
Owing him a favor is killing me on the inside.
I’m firmly in the wrong and I need to make it up to him as soon as possible.
“Look at me,” Scarlett says, appearing on my left side. I’m a bit surprised to see her here. Alexei needs her right now. So does Ash. Not me. Dark brown eyes peer into mine, like looking into a mirror. She’s so easy for me to read.
And vice versa.
“Shit,” I curse, scraping my teeth over my lip as I turn away.
Staring at the woods. Peering through cold, sun-dappled shadows.
Patches of darkness and light. Just a few weeks until I’m finally in control of my own fate.
My eighteenth birthday. And I’d have been homeless, kicked out of the halfway house.
But there’s Scarlett. There’s fucking Scarlett.
“Remember when I was having those panic attacks?” she says, smiling like she’s all sweet and no sour. Such a lie. There’s a slight hitch in that smile though, a worry that’s directed at me. “It’s okay to show vulnerability, Adrian. I’m not going anywhere. Neither are you. Let it out.”
She caught me.
I can’t breathe, putting my back against the trunk of the tree and letting myself slide down to sit on the ground. I honestly can’t believe I’m letting any other human being see me in this state. I force myself to remember Bohnes, emerging from his bedroom to find us all waiting at his table.
I’ve never seen someone look so discomfited and yet so devastatingly relieved. And I met a lot of hopeless, broken guys in the last five years. I think this is my moment to finish being one of them.
Scarlett doesn’t just sit beside me, she crawls in my lap. My arms go around her and it falls silent for a minute. Just trees and us sitting in the woods. I feel a surge of cool relief, fighting against the raging fire of my anger.
“Do you think you’re done with the panic attacks?” I ask, watching the sunlight catch on her profile. That expression, wry and knowing. Thoughtful. Sharp. An impolite mouth. Scarlett’s hair is all over me, that massive braid of raven-black. I want to bring it up to my face, but I don’t move.
I’m straddling a razor’s edge here, caught between calming down and going batshit crazy.
If I mess this up, I’ll fall and hit the blade, severing myself in half.
Yeah, I’m righteously angry on behalf of Alexei and Ash.
I also couldn’t stop the experience from forcing me into memories I wish I didn’t have.
“Mm. I have no idea. Doesn’t matter. But if you need to have a panic attack, I’ll do the same for you as you did for me.
Want to man-punch a tree trunk until your knuckles break?
” Scarlett turns, putting her face right up close to mine.
Stroking hot fingers down the back of my neck.
She’s all over me, touching me everywhere, and I love it.
Touch isn’t always torture. Like this, it’s bliss.
“I do kind of want to man-punch a tree. How did you know?” My voice is supposed to be teasing. Doesn’t quite get there. It’s sort of…cold. Empty. I’m not empty at all though. I’m so full that my stomach hurts. Stuffed with feelings. Too many of them. Conflicting ones.
“Alright then.” Scarlett goes to stand up and I grab onto her.
She sighs and puts her hands on my shoulders.
“You need to expel some negative energy? Do it. Honey.” She captures my face and stares right at me.
That word—honey—it does something weird to me.
“Did you see our new garage? There’s a black and red Bugatti in there. ”
Our new garage, huh?
My gaze drops to Scarlett’s hand, to the inked moons that match my own.
Scarlett takes my distraction and wields it against me, untangling herself from my grip and standing up.
She bends in half to brush leaves from her knees, braid swinging over her shoulder and hitting the ground.
When she stands back up, she has as many leaves tangled in the end of her hair as she had on her knees.
I get up quickly, fast enough that she takes a step back and the air is wild between us.
Without a word, I turn and hit the tree we were just leaning against. I punch it hard enough to crack the bark, to split my skin, to send a cold chill of pain up my arm bones and into my shoulder. It hurts. A lot. I threw way too hard of a hit at an immovable opponent.
Blood oozes over the sides of my hand as Scarlett tsks her tongue and comes up beside me, taking hold of my arm.
She kisses the wound and then licks the rest of the blood from her lips with a quick flick of the tongue.
I’m actually convinced it wasn’t meant to be sexual.
Feels like a mark of trust, her unafraid to taste me like that.
“Ash and Alexei are okay, Widow. Thank you for being concerned about them.” Scarlett stops, like she thinks maybe she was too soft there for a minute.
She grabs my face again, her blood-smeared hands getting red everywhere.
On tiptoes, she kisses the side of my mouth, holding onto me for balance.
“I love you, Adrian. You’re going to be okay. ”
On my next inhale, I catch a sweet scent—the smell of floral shampoo from the girl’s locker room.
“Scarlett.” I reach up and ruffle my hair. When I drop my hand, Scarlett’s takes its place. I don’t even flinch when she tousles it all up. Touch is becoming a happy place for me, at least when it comes to her.
“Yeah?” she asks as my body slowly remembers how to breathe again. From the lair of a child predator to juvie to a halfway house to…this. Scarlett. Home. Working on the Stingray was the best choice I ever made because it led me to her.
“Is this how you’re going to act for the rest of our lives?” I almost sound like I’m accusing her of something. I’m not. But it definitely sounds that way. “Because if so, then I’m looking forward to it.”
Scarlett blushes a little—so fucking rare for her—and I feel my lips split into a different sort of grin. That gaze of hers, steady and warm and competent, leaves an indelible mark on me.
She reaches for my hand. The half-broken one. It hurts like hell when she grabs it, but I don’t say a word.
I’d rather have Scarlett grind my ruined bones together than let go.
“The property is clear,” Bohnes says, swinging around from behind a tree.
I’m not as bothered by his presence as I usually am.
The way he’s looking at me says that he understands.
That we’re both from Prescott. That he is an unloved, unwanted little boy, too.
Kellin doesn’t know what it’s like to be part of a family either.
“But we have police cars incoming, which annoys me. I was hoping that Ash would make us dinner. You know, to celebrate.”
Police. For real?
“Did it ever occur to you that he might be too traumatized to cook?” I sound deranged. Scarlett gives my hand a squeeze, and it fucking hurts too good to be bad. Ugh. Cops. Probably for me. I’ve violated my parole numerous times. I saw this one coming.
Ash sighs, seated on the ground at the base of a tree. I also didn’t see him approach. Either I’m totally dropping the ball today or else these guys are just good. And I don’t see them as threats anymore. That’s part of it.
“I would love to cook, Adrian. I figured that I would be the one eaten by a rat on the front lawn. Here I am. Still breathing.” Ash laughs hysterically, and it stops the crickets and frogs from singing. He frowns at that, like he noticed and didn’t like it.