64. Scarlett
Scarlett
T he villa was too quiet.
I closed the door behind me and leaned against it, eyes shut, breath held. The ocean whispered outside, soft against the glass, like it knew something I didn’t.
I kicked off my sandals. Pulled the hair tie from my wrist and let the waves of my hair fall wild around my shoulders.
Trace’s voice echoed in my head.
I would’ve given you everything. And you left me with nothing.
I walked to the bathroom and turned on the tap, letting the water run. Stared at my reflection in the mirror—flushed cheeks, wind-tangled hair, the shimmer of firelight still clinging to my skin.
I peeled off my clothes like they were made of memory, tossing them into a pile. Stepped under the stream and let the water burn.
My hands braced against the tile. My head hung low.
No one understood. I didn’t pick between them. I picked the silence. The space between choices. The stillness that let me pretend none of it was real.
I chose not to decide .
Because choosing Trace would’ve meant stepping into fire.
Choosing Alden would’ve meant settling in the shadow of something I couldn’t name.
And now?
Now I still didn’t know who the hell I was supposed to pick.
I sank into the oversized tub, knees pulled to my chest, the water up to my chin.
Maybe I wasn’t meant to choose at all.
Maybe I was always just the girl standing in the middle, pretending the fire couldn’t reach me.
But it did.
It burned through everything.
And I didn’t know how to stop wanting it.
I rested my head back and stared at the ceiling. My skin still tingled where Trace had looked at me—like his gaze had imprinted itself, scorched a memory onto my spine.
They all lied.Not just about feelings. About everything.Every glance. Every touch. Every word they didn’t say.
No more excuses. No more waiting for them to come clean.
I was going to get to the bottom of it.Whatever they were hiding—whatever truth they buried beneath tattoos and firelight and broken promises—I was going to find it.
Even if it shattered everything.
“Fuck your secrets,” I whispered into the steam.Let them burn too.
***
I curled up in the bed, the sound of waves licking at the villa walls, my hair still damp from the bath. My brain still spinning from Trace.
I wasn’t ready to sleep. Wasn’t ready to think too hard either.
So I grabbed my phone and pulled up the group chat: Chaos Club? — Sloane, Lena, and me.
I stared at the screen for a second.
SCARLETT:
Alive. Mostly.
Kinda miss you. Kinda wanna scream into the sea.
Hemingway still being dramatic?
A minute passed.
Then two.
Then my phone lit up like they’d both been waiting.
LENA:
HE MISSES YOU. He stared at the door for like an hour. I cried. He farted. It was a moment.
SLOANE:
You better not die.
If you do, I’m not adopting your pug. He smells like beef.
SCARLETT:
Beef is his love language. Respect it.
LENA:
Are you safe?
I hesitated.
SCARLETT:
I don’t know.
But I think I’m where I’m supposed to be.
…also there’s an outdoor shower and I feel rich.
SLOANE:
We’re putting that on your headstone.
LENA:
Be safe. We love you.
SCARLETT:
Love you more. Tell Hemingway I said to raise hell.
I put the phone down on the pillow beside me.
And for a minute, I let myself breathe like I wasn’t being hunted.
Like I wasn’t in love with two men I didn’t understand. Like maybe—just maybe—I could still find my way home.
But the silence pressed too loud.The kind that crawled under your skin and made you question everything.
I reached for the phone again.
Hesitated.
Then typed it out in the search bar anyway.The Hollow Order.
My thumb hovered. Then hit search.
At first—nothing.Just a few scattered mentions. An old newspaper clipping from decades ago. A blurry photo of men in black with their faces turned away. The words ancient allegiance, ritualistic, unconfirmed sightings.
I clicked deeper.A Reddit thread. Deleted.A broken link.An archived forum post that said they don’t exist on paper. Only in blood.
My breath caught. My heart stuttered.
I wasn’t looking for proof anymore.I was looking for what they didn’t want me to see.
And I was going to find it.
Even if it killed me.