Page 6 of House of Scarlett
“You’ve got nothing to say?” Kelsey jabs me one more time. “You’re a piece of shit, Legend. I told her to steer clear of you. I told her you were bad news. I love being right, but not this time. You fucked up. Whatever happened here tonight, one thing is for sure—you just lost your shot at the best thing that has ever happened to you. Go fuck yourself.”
I take the onslaught. They care about her, and I’m responsible for what happened. I can’t deny it, and I have no defense that anyone would understand.
Kelsey spins around and grabs Monroe’s hand. “Let’s get the fuck out of this place. I don’t want to breathe his air, or I’ll stab him.”
“The only person who gets to stab him is Scarlett,” Monroe says, shooting me a look with enough acid to kill. “Let’s get Harlow. Then we’re out of here.”
She drops her husband’s hand and the two women march into the club, leaving me facing Nate Grafton.
“I don’t know what happened, man, but those women ... they aren’t the ones you want to piss off.” From the tone of his voice, I have a feeling he’s seen their brand of crazy in full Technicolor.
I glance down at my watch for no other reason than I’m too raw to make eye contact. “No offense, man, but I’ve got bigger problems than worrying about them slashing my tires.”
Nate Grafton huffs out a laugh. “That’d be minor. They’ll ruin your life.”
I think of the club that just rose from the dead, and wonder how long it will last once they start their crusade to destroy me.
Shouldn’t have fucking touched her. She wasn’t for you. You should have known better.This time, it’s not the voice in my head, but me tearing a strip off my own hide for fucking this up so badly.
Everyone I love gets hurt, killed, or walks away from me. I should have known better than to reach so far above my station.
“They won’t have to try too hard. I’m doing a hell of a job of it myself,” I tell Nate before I turn and stride through the crowd, with absolutely no destination in mind other thanaway.
Four
Scarlett
The momentI walk through my front door, my cell starts buzzing with texts and calls. I figured it would take them a while to realize I was gone, and once they did ... yeah.
It’s safe to say I have great friends. But I can’t handle them right now. Not when ...
A tear drops onto the screen of my phone, blurring the words I was trying to type to the group message I’m being interrogated in. My fingers shake so much that I keep hitting the wrong letters, messing the word up so badly that not even autocorrect knows what I’m trying to say.
I snuffle in a breath, sop up the tears with a tissue, and start over.
Scarlett: I had to go. Things happened. Long story. I’m fine, though.
Kelsey: You are not fine. We’re coming over.
Monroe: Nate didn’t hit him, but we can hit him with a car. Just say the word, and I’ll have a beater with no tags ready to go.
A watery laugh escapes my lips as I imagine Monroe stealing a car to run down Legend. The laugh dries up the minute I think about him being hurt.
Scarlett: No. Please. Don’t do ANYTHING at all. Not to the club. Not to him. Don’t say anything either. This is double-vault material, and I don’t want to see it in the papers.
Harlow, Monroe, Kelsey, and I instituted the concept of the double vault back after Harlow accidentally leaked something about Monroe and Nate to the papers, and their friendship took years to recover.
Harlow: I’m not saying shit, so don’t look at me. Double vault is secured. Bolt is thrown. But we’re still coming over. I need to see for myself that he didn’t hurt you.
My body twinges and muscles protest in places they didn’t before I walked into his office, but my friends don’t need to know I got dumped after the best sex of my life.
No. Not even dumped. I gotfucked and ducked.I think that was Kelsey’s term for the time she had a one-night stand disappear when she went into the bathroom to clean up after sex.
No matter what you call it, it freaking hurts. My pride, my ego, my dignity ... they all took a massive hit.
Yeah, and what about your heart?
The part of me that was worried about getting involved is smug and self-righteous, but I’m not thinking about my heart. If I don’t see blood, there’s nothing wrong with it.Right?
