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A few seconds later, the door opened, and an officer strolled in with Scar behind him followed by another officer. Scar towered over them both, wearing an orange jumpsuit with his wrists and ankles shackled. He was tall and bulky, but he hadn’t changed much from the pictures I’d seen of him over twenty years ago. I was told he’d gotten his nickname from the number of scars on his body, and they were right. He was covered in them, his skin jagged and rough all over his arms and neck, most likely knife wounds by their looks.
Smirking, Scar sat across from me and clasped his hands on the tabletop. The officers nodded at me and exited the room, leaving me alone with him. He averted his gaze to the two-way mirror and shook his head, amusement in his dark, soulless eyes.
“I see your friend didn’t want to come in and say hi,” he said.
I leaned back in my chair. “And what friend would that be?”
Scar chuckled. “Striker’s son, or one of them, at least. But no worries, I’m perfectly fine with just you.” His grin broadened. “Well done on the title fight. You’re just like your father.”
I was not in the mood for chit chat. Leaning forward with my elbows on the table, I shot Scar a fiery glare. “Thanks, but I’m not here to shoot the shit. You’ve always been straightforward with what you want from what I've been told. I know you’re getting out of here in two days.”
With a curious gaze, Scar tilted his head to the side. “I am. Good behavior, so I’ve been told.”
“I doubt that,” I snapped.
Scar threw his head back and bellowed. “Ah, I’ve missed the Reynolds’ biting wit. Your aunt was a firecracker too. How is she these days?” His hollow eyes gleamed. “I saw her walking the red carpet on TV with your cousin, Peyton. Both of them are very beautiful.”
A fire like none other burned in my gut, and I slammed my hands down on the table. “I don’t know what sick, twisted game you’re playing, but I want answers.”
Scar shook his head. “You’re not a part of this, Reynolds. Your dad never crossed me, but if you venture over that line ….”
Seething, I leaned over the table. “You stepped over that line the day you sent Emma that letter.”
Scar’s eyes twinkled evilly. “I see. What makes you think it was me who gave it to Emma?”
“It might not have been you who physically delivered it, but I have no doubt it came from you somehow. And let me tell you, if you go after Emma, you’ll be making a huge fucking mistake.”
Scar sat back in his seat. “Hurting your …” He paused for a second and smiled. “Friend is not what I want, son. She’s innocent in all of this. When I get out of here on Friday, I want to live my life in peace.”
“You expect me to believe that horseshit?” I hissed.
Scar shrugged flippantly. “Take it for what it’s worth. Although, I have a feeling I’ll be seeing you soon.” He leaned closer; his voice barely audible so only I could hear. “Tell Emma I said hello when you see her. She’s a little busy right now.”
My stomach clenched with dread. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
With an unnerving smile, Scar let out a small laugh. “I’m happy to know she can be trusted to keep her mouth shut. Guess she didn’t tell you about her date today.” His leer turned menacing. “I think my guy has a thing for her, but don’t worry, nothing will happen to her … yet.”
I kicked my chair back, grabbed his shirt and jerked him up. “Motherfucker! You better hope Emma’s okay. I don’t give a shit who you know in this world, I’ll rip off your goddamned head if anyone hurts her!” To hell with the consequences. At this point, I was ready to break his neck and be done with it.
The door burst open, and the officers pulled me off Scar, pushing me toward the door. “That’s enough,” one of them shouted. “You need to leave.”
Grinning smugly, Scar fell back into his chair, which pissed me off even more. Fuck him. I had to get to Emma. Brooks rushed out of the adjoining room and threw his arms in the air when he met me in the hall.
“What the hell? I couldn’t hear anything he said toward the end,” he said.
I grabbed his arm and pulled him down the hall, my patience running thinner by the minute. “Never mind that right now. We have to find Emma.”
I felt sick and overcome with rage just thinking about her being with one of Scar’s men and what they could be doing to her that very second.
Brooks’ eyes widened. “Why? What’s wrong?”
We stopped at the locked door, and I slammed my hands against it, desperate to be let out. “Scar has someone with Emma right now.” I punched the locked door. “Open the fucking door!” The gate buzzed, and it slowly opened to let us out. I needed my phone, but it wasn’t allowed in the room with Scar. Once we reached the front desk, they handed it to me, and I rushed outside, my hands shaking so violently I could barely press the call button.
Brooks and I ran to his truck as the line rang and rang. Once inside Brooks’ vehicle, I called again, impatiently tapping my fingers on the dash. “Answer the damn phone!” I shouted, running a hand angrily through my hair. All I wanted was to hear her voice, to make sure she was okay. I called three more times and nothing.
“She’s not answering.”
The tires squealed as Brooks laid on the gas. “Keep trying. I’ll get us back quick.”
Unfortunately, not quick enough.
