Page 19 of House of Scarlett
Zoe doesn’t flinch during my tirade. She crosses her arms in her lap and speaks softly.
“She lives in New York City. How many muggings happen here every day? Violence could easily be part of her life tomorrow, and the only thing you’re doing is making sure you’renot there to protect her from it. Pull your head out of your ass and look at the big picture. Do you really think you come along with so much evil and ugly that you’re going to ruin her snow-white life? Have you ever considered that you just might add some color to it and make it worth living?”
“Unless there’s something work related you need to talk about, get out of my office.”
Zoe rises slowly, giving me a measured stare. “You know I’m right. I just hope you act on it before it’s too late. Before you really lose her.” She strides out of the office and shuts the door behind her, leaving me alone with my mess of a brain and my phone.
I grab it off the desk and open Scarlett’s favorite social media app again. As I stare at the picture of her, my attention snags on the hashtags again below it.
#LifeIsMessy #EmbraceTheMess #LoveTheMess
Goddammit, Scarlett. What the fuck do you want from me? All I know is messy. I’ve clawed my way out of the gutter, but I’m a million light years away from your ivory tower. I’m not good enough for you. I’ll never be good enough for you. But if you want messy, I got that down.
The picture and the hashtags haunt me all day. I’m not fit company for anyone, so I keep to my office, and later, watch the club from behind the two-way glass. My attention catches on every single blonde, like there’s a chance in hell she would show up. But she doesn’t, and none of them compare to her.
What if she’s sick? What if there’s something wrong with her?Who’s going to take care of her? Her dad? He sounds like a dick. Her friends? The ballplayer’s wife would probably give her the wrong meds and be more likely to kill her by accident.
The very thought threatens to send me into a rage.If anything happens to her ...
My brain picks that moment to chime in.Then what, Gabe? What are you going to do about it? She’s not yours. You threw her away. You don’t even deserve a second fucking chance. Remember the look on her face? You fucking broke her. What kind of guy does that? A shitty one who doesn’t deserve a woman like that. You’re doing a bang-up job, asshole.
Hours later, I crawl into bed and palm my cell once more. I don’t have to go to the app anymore, because I saved the fucking picture to my phone. That’s how pathetic I am.
I may not deserve her, but no one is taking this picture from me.
But what if you just told her everything?
The thought floats into my head and gives me pause.
Could she understand why I did what I did? Could she forgive me? Is there any way we could make this work? Could I keep her safe from Moses? Figure out a different way to handle him?
The questions chase away sleep, because I know how I want to answer them. If there’s a single scenario in which Scarlett Priest could be mine, I want to find it.
I’m not giving up on us, ladybug. At least, not if you can forgive me. I’ll figure this out.
And if later, I jerk off to the image of her with no makeup and bed head, looking more beautiful than any woman has a right to look, that’s no one’s fucking business but my own.
Ten
Scarlett
“I thinkwe need to take you to the hospital, Scarlett. Something’s wrong.” Amy, my manager, looks at me with concern in her eyes.
She’s right. I haven’t felt like myself in days, and my doctor is out of town this week.
“I hate the hospital,” I say, letting my head flop against my pillow. “My mom ...”
I can’t finish my sentence, but Amy gets it. My mom spent her last six months constantly in and out of the hospital, but there was nothing they could do to save her. Cancer is a fucking asshole, and it can fuck right off.
“I understand you don’t want to go, but I think it’s necessary. Let me call the car service. I’ll go with you to the ER, unless you want me to call someone else?”
I’m weak, and the only thing I can think is that if Gabriel hadn’t told me to leave, this wouldn’t have happened. It’s irrational and completely ridiculous, but I don’t care. I feel like death. I haven’t gotten out of bed, except to puke, all day.
“Scarlett?”
Amy says my name again, and I turn my head so I can see her. What did she ask? Oh yeah. If I wanted her to call someone else.
“My dad. Call him. Tell him I’m probably not dying, but I’m not totally sure.” I pause, licking my dry lips and hating how shitty I feel.
