Page 29 of House of Scarlett
Alive is good. Especially when I can’t shake the lingering fear that Flynn drilled into me earlier.
I can’t even be mad at the kid for what she did. Hell, if anything, I owe her a massive thank-you. I may never recover the couple of years she shaved off my life, but I’ve never been worried about living a real long time, anyway. That’s not something you expect for yourself when you grow up the way I did.
After my mom got arrested, I ended up in foster care during her trial. She couldn’t make bail and couldn’t afford to bond out, so they held her over, and I got acquainted with a broken system in the up-close and personal way unwanted kids do.
My first house didn’t last long. Emergency placement, they called it. I was dropped on someone’s doorstep, and they fed me some dinner and sent me to bed like the rest of the kids in the house.
I never went back to the trailer park. They wouldn’t even let me get my stuff. I wore the same clothes for three days, before a caseworker showed up to take me away again.
I figured that’s how it would be from then on, but it wasn’t.
The second family I was placed with was even more chaotic than the first, but in the best way possible. Because that’s where I met Bump and Jorie Billips, the two people who would become the only family I thought I’d ever need.
Jorie and I were the same age, and Bump was four years younger, but he refused to be left out of anything. Jorie took care of him like he was her kid, and I helped. Together, the three of us made life worth living. And once Jorie and I aged out of the foster care system, she and I both worked every second we could so we’d make enough money for her to get custody of Bump.
The first night the three of us spent in our shitty little one-bedroom apartment in the projects was one of the best I’d ever had up until that point. We were poor as shit, but we were happy because we were together.
Until I fucked over Moses and painted targets on all of our backs. Then I lost them both.
Bump would never grow into the man he was meant to be. Jorie would stay forever young in my memories, and would never sing at the clubs in LA the way she’d dreamed about.
I lost myself after that. I morphed into a stranger, doing things to survive that were downright criminal. There was nothing I wouldn’t do to numb the pain. I punished myself by taking every fight I could. When I started stashing money away, it was to somehow prove to Jorie that it wasn’t all for nothing. That I could make something of myself. That I could become a man she could be proud of again.
Two gunshots, ordered by Moses Buford Gaspard, ended life as I knew it. And ever since then, I’ve been going through the motions and picking up the shattered pieces. Slowly but surely, I fought my way out of the dark, but nothing has ever been the same.
Until the woman in this hospital bed beside me changed life as I knew it one more time.
Sitting here in the dark, I feel things swirling inside me. They’re not things I should be thinking or feeling. I have no right after what I did, but I can’t stop.
Scarlett should have thrown me out the minute she saw me. But she didn’t.
I’m not so naive as to think second chances come around all that often, so I’m not fucking this one up. That is, if it’s really a second chance and not a cosmic joke at my expense.
Even if I don’t know how to be what she needs, I’m going to learn.
With that vow burning itself into my brain, the door opens and a nurse shuffles inside. She stops short when she sees me.
“What are you doing here? Where is her sister?”
Her hand is inches from the security button near the bed, and I slowly rise with both hands out to my sides.
“I’m Gabriel. I’m Scarlett’s ... friend. Flynn had to go and asked me to make sure Scarlett wouldn’t be alone. That’s all. I promise.” My voice is a hushed whisper, since I’m trying not to wake Scarlett.
“You were here earlier. The other nurse mentioned you. You own that nightclub where there was a shooting.”
The fact that either of them were able to identify me and connect me with the shooting after seeing me for a short time tells me just hownotunder the radar my identity is anymore. If Moses remembers even a fraction of what I look like, it won’t be long before he sends someone up north to finish me off. Except this time, I’m going to be ready.
I glance down at Scarlett. I have to keep her safe. That’s nonnegotiable. I’ll figure out the details with Q, and we’ll put it all in action as soon as possible. I can’t be distracted when her well-being is at stake.
“Yeah, that’s me.”
The nurse’s gaze flicks between me and Scarlett. “And Ms. Priest was recently photographed at your club ... I think I see what’s going on.”
She has no clue, but I don’t mind letting her think she does.
“Thank you for understanding.”
The nurse’s chin goes up. “I wouldn’t say I understand, but I know what a man looks like when he’s falling for someone.”
