Page 12 of House of Scarlett
Kelsey reaches diagonally across the table to cover my hand with hers and squeeze. “I’m so sorry we—”
“Stop. All of you.” I slowly scan around the table and make eye contact with each of my girls. “I’m fine. He’s just a guy. Things didn’t work out the way I wanted. Shit happens. I’ll move on with my life and barely remember him tomorrow.” The lies taste bitter on my tongue because they should be the truth.
“You fucked him, and he said that was all it would ever be, right?” Monroe is like a dog with a bone. She’s not going to let this go until I give her the dirty details. Thankfully, the restaurant is packed and noisy, and no one can overhear our conversation.
“In a nutshell, yeah. I said I wanted more, and he told me he couldn’t have me.”
Every woman winces in unison.
“That’s harsh,” Flynn says, glancing at Kelsey. “Now the hit-man comment makes sense.”
“Wait, wait.” It’s Harlow who interrupts. “He said hecan’t have you? Like he wants you but there’s something stopping him? Tell us more about that.”
I shake my head, my attention dropping to the busty cowgirl salt shaker and her pepper cowboy husband. “I don’t know what to tell you. His friend showed up at my house last night and dropped a bomb about him being in love with a girl who died. I just ... I can’t compete with that.”
“Dead girlfriend? Oh no, that’s the worst,” Monroe says with a grimace. “I’ve been down that road. College boyfriend. He was a total asshole about it too. Did Legend tell you he could never replace her?”
“No. He never mentioned her. Only Bump did. It was his sister.”
“The dude with the missing strip of hair on his head? They call him Bump?” Monroe asks.
“He was shot in the head. I’m guessing that’s his scar,” I reply, fiddling with the straw wrapper from my water.
“But he said he couldn’t have you. That means he wants you, but he’s afraid to give himself permission,” Harlow says, going back to the subject of Legend. “That means there’s something there. I don’t know, Scarlett. Maybe you shouldn’t give up just yet.”
I think of how I felt the moment his expression turned to anguish after I said I wanted to make it real between us. “I want to hate him. He gave me the best sex of my life and then ... he shut down. And he told me to go.”
“He has to die,” Kelsey says, gripping her butter knife like a dagger. “No one treats you like that and lives.”
“Whoa, street fighter,” Flynn says, pulling the knife out of Kelsey’s fist. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but I think I agree with Harlow. There’s something there. Not that you should be the one to work out his issues with the dead girlfriend, but ... I wouldn’t kill him yet either. He’s a good guy, from the research I’ve done.”
My gaze cuts to Flynn. “You’ve done research?”
She lays the knife on the Formica table and shrugs. “You’re practically still family. Of course I was going to look into the guy.”
Monroe leans forward, her boobs almost spilling out of her off-the-shoulder top. “What did you find out?”
“Gabriel Legend didn’t really exist before fifteen years ago. He popped up in New Jersey, and that’s when videos started surfacing of him fighting. He was smart with his money and ruthless with his opponents. He kept at it until he had the funds to open his own place—an illegal club called Urban Legend. It didn’t have a liquor license and the cage fights were unsanctioned, but it did extremely well. Then one day, he just closed it and announced the grand opening of Legend.” Flynn sits back and crosses her arms. “No one can figure out why he cut off the spigot to his cash cow. Then there was the shooting at the club, and you know the rest. Basically, he had it made, and then he tried to level up and it all fell apart—until you saved Legend.”
“We can still take the club down,” Kelsey says, and I shake my head while trying to process everything Flynn said.
“I told you last night. We’re not going public with any of it. We’re not going to do anything to the club. I’m not that kind of person, and none of you are going to be either.”
“I agree with that. Because I think he still wants you, and he’s just afraid he doesn’t deserve you,” Harlow says, and my attention locks on her.
“What the hell does that mean? He’s afraid of me?”
Harlow’s blond waves dance when she shakes her head. “No, he’s afraid he doesn’t deserve you. And if he has a dead ex, maybe he’s got guilt tied up with her too. Do we know how she died? Was it his fault?”
The questions are relevant, but I don’t want to think about the possible answers. Speculating makes me shiver. “I don’t know. I don’t want to know.”
“So, what are you going to do now?” Monroe asks after she drains her bloody mary. “Do we have a plan?”
“Nothing,” I tell all of them. “I’m going to do exactlynothing.”
“Oh fuck, he really did a number on you. You ... were you falling for him?” Monroe’s eyebrows, which normally barely move from the Botox, actually jump as her face contorts in horror.
“She wasn’t. No way,” Kelsey whispers, her jaw dropping as she stares at me. “It was just a walk on the wild side, right?”
