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I bristle at his insinuation, rising from the bed in a flurry. “Of course not.” My cheeks heat, calling out on my bluff. “You’re all done. I’ll check on it again tomorrow. If there’s nothing else…” I head for the door.
“Scarlett, I…”
I don’t hear another word as I step out into the hallway, slamming the door shut behind me with a curse. My irritation increases as Gray, Ryker, and Axel stare at me inquisitively, but I can’t deal with them right now.
Pointing my thumb over my shoulder, I step away, half-wishing I had grabbed the bottle of scotch for myself.
“He’s all yours.”
TWENTY-ONE
Scarlett
Stepping into the bar area,I search for my target, but he’s nowhere to be found in here either. I rub my lips together, irritated by the nervous action as I sweep the room once more with no luck.
Emmett.
He’s got to be somewhere. No one answered when I knocked on his door a moment ago, but surely, he hasn’t gone too far. Not with an injured leg.
I fidget, my nerves attempting to get the better of me again, but I’ve let them take hold for too long as it is. It’s taken me longer than I care to admit to build up the courage to go in search of him since I stormed off like a sullen child yesterday. But despite my thoughts and opinions, along with my inability to shut my damn mouth, his injury needs to be checked.
If someone else is taking care of it, that’s fine, then I won’t feel guilty for not checking in sooner. .
Rolling my shoulders back, I hold my head high as I sense the Ruthless Bitches’ attention turn my way. I’m surprised there are as many people in here as there are since it’s only noon, but MCs can start as early as they want, I guess. Besides, if I stay in my room for a moment longer, I may claw my eyes out by going crazy.
I fight the urge to fiddle with the hem of my oversized Led Zeppelin tee, acutely aware that I’m only wearing panties underneath, but I originally planned to dash across the hallway and back. Now there’s a fucking audience, and as much as they might piss me off, I won’t back down under their gaze.
Heading through the bar area barefoot, I discreetly watch where I’m stepping as I move as quickly as I can. The stares from the Ruthless Bitches intensify as I get closer to them, but I keep my focus locked on the door.
“Fucking whore.” I internally roll my eyes at Molly’s comment clearly aimed at me. She won’t get the satisfaction of a reaction from me. Not today. Not when there’s other shit going on. She’s inconsequential in the grand scheme of things.
The general chatter of the room drowns her out as I near the door, my hand ready to knock, but before I can touch the wood and escape into the garden, a tingle rises up my spine, but it’s too late for me to react.
Hands shove at my forearm, making me stumble to the right as I nearly trip over my own feet, throwing my arms out to the sides to keep my balance.
What. The. Fuck?!
My hair drapes over my right shoulder as I glance back to confirm which bitch touched me, only to find Molly standing with her hands planted on her hips and a malicious smile spread across her face.
Aware of the silence in the room now, I stand and stare down the bitch that keeps on trying to get a rise out of me. “Are you done?” I spit out, my nostrils flaring with anger as my breath stutters in my chest.
It’s not like it was at the Reapers, I have to remember that. I’m a whore here. Just like she said I was. There aren’t certain things in place to keep me protected from her wrath, but that also means there’s nothing keeping me from putting my hands on her.
“I won’t be done until you get your shit and get out ofmyfucking club,” she snaps, tossing her hair over her shoulder dramatically as the remaining Ruthless Bitches murmur behind her. Sounds of agreement ring in my ears.
I’m failing to see what the fuck I’ve actually done wrong. We’re all here for the same reason, for shelter, protection, a place to hide out from the rest of the world. They’re all here, what’s the difference with me?
Sighing, I quirk a brow at her. “I wasn’t aware this wasyourclub.”
“It’s more mine than it is yours, so if you don’t get your shit and get out of my house, I’ll make you regret it.” She takes measured steps toward me with each word that falls from her mouth.
“I’m assuming your threats usually work, but I really couldn’t give a shit.” My nails stab into my palms, holding back the desire to throat-punch this bitch. My response doesn’t appease her though, not like I expected it to even touch the surface, but when she raises her hands to shove at me again, my restraint is tarnished.
In a flurry of movements, I whip my hand in her direction, my fingers clamping around her throat as I thrust her body into the wall beside the door. Her eyes almost bulge out as I loom in her personal space, a sneer tainting my lips as my heart races like crazy in my chest.
“I don’t care who you think you are, I don’t care that you’re trying to scare me, shit, I don’t care if you actually get what you want and force me to leave,” I whisper against the shell of her ear, unable to control the anger and annoyance storming in my veins. “It’syouthat should care about whoIam.Youthat should be worried about whatI’mcapable of. Andyouthat needs to watch your back because I don’t take too kindly to people touching me without my permission.”
My chest heaves with every breath I take, my body vibrating with the need to pound my fist into her face as she looks at me with glassy eyes.
