Page 35 of Fuckboy Psychos (Scarlett Force 1)
Pretty sure they can all sense that I have no intention of hitting the track again tonight.
“Wrong with me?” Lemon breathes out, looking over at Nisha and Basti for support. She turns back to me, looking like she’s as righteously angry at me as I am at her. What the actual fuck? “Did I ask you to race for me, Scar? Did I ask you to blow up my phone and hunt me down? I’m eighteen now. I’m an adult. I don’t need you or anyone else telling me what to do.”
“You want to throw yourself on Aspen’s cock for cash? You go for it. But you’re worse than an overpriced whore because you know what? You’re not going to get paid. Not a single goddamn cent.”
“You’re taking it too far, Scarlett,” Basti warns me, but does he know that I almost just lost this race? That I almost let a monster fuck me because I was so desperate to find my friend? “Lem, you can’t just disappear on us and not answer your—”
“I can do whatever the hell I want,” Lem snaps back at me, and I can feel it again, the shift of the crowd. People are watching us, watching me get my ass chewed out by a five-foot-two blonde with horrible taste in men.
How can I run my crew while I let my bestie disrespect me in front of everyone like this? Not only did she make a fool out of me last night, but she’s digging both of our graves tonight.
Against my better judgement, I accepted Aspen’s conditions knowing what I was getting myself into.
“You can’t control me anymore, Scarlett.”
“If that’s the case then you have no business in my crew or at my school,” I tell her, regretting the words even as they leave my mouth. Nisha gasps, and Basti sucks in a surprise inhale of breath and then chokes on it. He’s still coughing and trying to gather himself together when Nisha puts her hand on my shoulder, and I shove it off.
“You know what? I don’t give a shit. Aspen cares about me.” She looks away, a slight, almost demure smile on her lips that turns into a smirking sneer as she lifts her head back up to look at me. “He told me he loves me last night.”
“Did he? Before or after he tried to win a race with the sole purpose of sticking his dick in me?” I quip back, raising a brow as Nisha once again tries to intervene.
“Alright you two, that’s enough. Tempers are up; we were worried. Lem, just walk away and let it go.”
We both ignore her. This has become so much more than a simple disagreement. This is fundamental.
“He told me he loved me, but he wants to put his dick in you because you’re nothing but a whore, Scarlett. Just ask Bohnes—”
Before I can talk myself out of it, I raise my hand and crack Lemon so hard across the face that she stumbles, falling to her ass in the mud as Basti rushes to her side, trying to help her up. She throws him off with a scream, finding her feet on her own as Nisha remains silent and still by my side.
“You’re a whore!” she screams at me as I cross my arms over my chest.
“You are banned from the track, the school. Shit, if I see you on the streets, you better run in the opposite direction. Don’t come back until you’re ready to get on your knees and apologize to me.”
“Fuck you!” Lem barks, panting and then pausing as the Shelby Cobra rolls up beside us. With one last triumphant look thrown my way, Lemon storms over to the car and climbs into the passenger side. “Get fucked, Scarlett.”
She slams the door before I can respond—not that I’d deign to. I’ve said what I need to say.
The last thing I see through the window before they roll away is Aspen’s disturbingly pretty smile, cocky and self-assured and impudent.
I turn to Nisha, her own face dark with anger. Both for me and Lem, most likely.
“Find me Jennifer. Now,” I say, and then I’m climbing into the Pantera and heading back to the parking lot. There’s something sticky on my steering wheel and smeared across my dash.
It only takes me a second to piece together what it is.
Widow’s cum. In my car. In my fucking car.
I slam my palms against the steering wheel and let out a scream of frustration.
I’m going to destroy him. Him and Aspen and anyone else who gets in my way.
Lemon, too, if that’s what she wants so damn badly.
On the outside, I’m angry. On the in, my heart is breaking for my friend.
But there’s nothing more I can do.
You cannot help someone who wants to fall into darkness.
Scarlett
Prescott High just isn’t the same without Lemon around. I think about her all day on Monday. I almost text her, too, but I know that I can’t. In order to maintain my position, sacrifices have to be made. I have to wait for her to apologize or at least reach out to me. If she doesn’t, I have to accept that she’s made her choice.
