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“Thanks, but I like my men a little more fucking stable.”
I let the door slam shut in my wake, storming toward my room as I pray the angry motherfucker doesn’t follow me. Because despite the anger in his demeanor, the knowledge that this man is relying on drugs, and can’t see past the end of his own fucking nose, my body is tingling with his close proximity. Just like it does near Gray, and last night with Ryker.
I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me, but I need to get over it, and fast.
FOURTEEN
Scarlett
I stare at the ceiling,completely lost in my thoughts as a murder investigation podcast plays from my cell. I’m barely listening, but it’s enough to keep me grounded and not spiraling down the path of my past.
If that fucker gets a hold of me, I’ll be drowned in darkness with no end in sight. I’ve clawed myself out of that deep, dark hole too many times to count already, and I won’t succumb to it anymore.
Axel got under my skin, there’s no denying it. Gray, on the other hand, watched it unfold without knowing what to fucking say.
Am I surprised he checked on me? Yeah. Am I shocked he got nothing? No. But that doesn’t fucking help me out in this situation I am trapped in.
It seems the Ruthless Brothers are more trouble than I was prepared for, but even more than that, I have a feeling I’m not going to get the chance to leave on my own either. Not now that Axel has painted a target on my head, even if it is only him hunting me down. For now.
A small rap of knuckles against my door pulls my attention, but it doesn’t magically pull me from my bad mood.
“Fuck off,” I grumble, loud enough for them to hear as I continue to lie on my bed.
“And I thought you weren’t a Ruthless Bitch.”
Emily?
I’m up off the bed in a flash and darting toward the door before I can even take a breath. Swinging it open, I find her smirking at me with her arms folded over her chest and her hip cocked.
“I had a feeling that would get you to open it,” she says as she brushes past me and steps into my room without an invitation, but it doesn’t bother me.
“I mean, you could have just said ‘hey, Scar, it’s me, Emily,’ and I would’ve opened it.” I close the door and turn to face her with my eyebrow raised, but she waves her hand at me dismissively.
“Please, where would the fun have been in that?” She doesn’t wait for a response as she spins on the spot, taking in my temporary room, and I use the moment to take in this crazy girl.
Her blonde hair is in a ponytail, her glasses fixed in place, framing her heart-shaped face perfectly, while she wears a simple white ribbed-tee and high-waisted jeans. She’s cute. Far too fucking cute for a place like this, which explains why Emmett seems to want to keep her as far away from here as possible.
He could work harder at it, I’m sure. She doesn’t need to be tainted by all of this.
When she comes full circle, her eyes meeting mine, something shines in them, like she knows exactly what I’m thinking, and there’s more to her than her innocence. A sign that she’s already tainted on the inside.
“Fuck, please tell me you’re not wearing that to the barbecue. Maggie will send you back in here to change so fast you won’t even feel the breeze on your face.” Her words pull me from my head as I glance at my band tee and jeans.
“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” I grumble, completely caught off guard by her approach. I’ve never had someone question what I’m wearing before. I’ve never had someone seek me out. A girl at least. I’ve never really had… friends? Is that what this is?
“Oh, nothing’s wrong with it. It’s just…”
“It’s just what?” Her hand is poised in my direction, her lips parted like she’s trying to find the politest words, but nothing comes out. “You’re almost wearing the same thing as I am,” I add, pointing in her direction, and she rolls her eyes.
“Please, that’s only because my asshole of a brother doesn’t allow me to wear anything else.”
“Do you need me to beat him up for you? Because I definitely can,” I state, taking a step toward her, and she shakes her head as a smirk spreads across her lips.
“Nope, not today at least, but I’ll definitely keep that in mind.” I offer a small nod in response before she turns to scan my room again. “Where are your clothes?”
“Why?”
“Scar…” She quirks a brow at me, and I sigh, waving down at the open duffel bag that’s laid out at the bottom of my bed. “You haven’t put anything away?”
