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After he marked my skin, he gave me a list of rules I’m to abide to if I want my sisters to stay safe and out of this mess.
1). For the next five years, he owns me and he’ll be calling in all sorts of favors, the first being holding on to the mysterious box.
2). He can call on me at any given time and I’m to obey without arguing.
3). I’m to tell no one of the arrangement, including his sons.
4). I’m to never talk about what I see while working for him.
5). If my father does show up, I’m to immediately inform Mr. Porterson.
Yeah, the last one I have no problems with. The rest however, I’ve got issues with, starting with actually working for Mr. Porterson. From what I understand, he runs illegal gambling sites, but he wouldn’t give me any details. Simply said we’d be in touch.
I think now is definitely a good time to call up my dad’s old partner. I just need to find his phone number. I think the best place to start is in my dad’s locked-up bedroom at the house. I’m also curious what he’s hiding in there. I just wish I knew if I could go home without worrying about one of Axel’s men showing up.
Maybe I’ll find out the answer to that when I talk to Blaise, something I need to do sooner rather than later, despite what happened in first period today.
“So, where do you want to go eat?” Scarlett asks me as she skips up beside me with a sucker in her mouth.
I sling my bag over my shoulder. “Doesn’t matter to me.”
“You sound upset.” She pulls the sucker out of her mouth and frowns. “Do you not want to go to lunch?”
I want to nod, want to lock myself in the car and have a good cry, but when I ran into her earlier in the hallway and she asked me to hang out with her at lunch, she seemed so hopeful, so I caved.
“No, I want to go.” I put on my go-to fake smile. “I’m just not sure what’s good around here.”
“Well, the diner on Main Street has a really hot waiter, but it’s kind of far away.” A thoughtful smirk graces her lips then she loops her arm through mine. “I have an idea.” She tugs me down the hallway.
“Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise.”
I’m not a fan of surprises, but I’m too exhausted to argue.
We end up taking my car, since Scarlett doesn’t have a license or a car, even though she’s sixteen.
“I’m not allowed to take the driving test yet,” she explains after we hop into my car.
“Your mom won’t let you?” I wonder as I fasten my seatbelt.
She shakes her head, tucking a strand of her shoulder-length hair behind her ear. “Nah, the law won’t let me.” She stares down at her hands, picking at her fingernails, uneasiness flowing from her.
A thousand questions burn at the tip of my tongue, but I bite them back. “Well, you know what you should do?” I ask and she glances up at me, shaking her head in confusion. Grinning, I crank up the last song I was listening to when I pulled up to the school today—“I Fought the Law” by The Clash. Seemed fitting after an officer aided in my ass getting hauled up to Mr. Porteron’s mansion.
Scarlett chuckles as she straps on her seatbelt. “Yeah, except the law won.”
“Maybe he fought the wrong way. Like not dirty enough or something,” I say as I start the engine.
“You don’t want to fight the law around here.” She props her boots up the dashboard. “Trust me.”
“Yeah, Blaise told me they’re bad news.” I steer out of the parking spot and drive toward the exit.
“They are.” She twists in her seat to face me, her gaze colliding with mine. “A word of advice. If you see a cop lurking around on a street corner or alleyway, run the other way. It happened to me once and I didn’t.”
I smash my lips together, sensing a sudden heaviness in the air. “What happened?”
She dismisses me with a flick of her wrist. “If I told you, you’d turn around and kick my ass out into the dirt.”
“I would not—”
“It’s happened before. A lot, actually.”
“Okay, but I’m not as judgey as some people.”
She forces a smile. “Let’s just start out with going to lunch and see where this little lunch buddy thing leads us, okay? If we end up becoming besties, I’ll totally tell you my sob story. But only if you promise to tell me yours.”
“I don’t tell anyone my sob story,” I confess as I turn onto the road. “Not even my sisters.”
“Yeah, but telling your siblings stuff can be harder than just telling a friend.” She fiddles with the volume on the stereo. “At least, I think so.”
I nod in agreement. “I actually agree with you.”
She presses her hand to her heart. “Aw, look at us. We’re like one step away from sharing all our secrets.”
I chuckle. “Maybe.” Inside, though, I’m not laughing.
Scarlett seems cool and everything but considering I’m working for her dad and not allowed to talk about it, I doubt we’re going to be sharing all our secrets with each other.
“So, where are we going?” I ask when I realize I’m driving down the road without a clue as to where I’m supposed to be heading.
“It’s just a few blocks up.” She points out the window with her free hand, using her other to pull out her phone from the pocket of her jeans. “You’re going to love this place.”
“Does it have good food?”
“That and good service.”
“Awesome.” I speed up because I’m starving and driving slow drives me mad.
A few blocks later, per Scarlett’s instructions, I make a turn down a side road lined with mostly houses. My confusion only deepens when she instructs me to turn into an old auto shop nestled beside a bar and a two-story house that looks like its seen it’s fair share of decades.
“We’re having lunch at an auto shop?” I ask as I park near the air pumps and silence the engine.
She shakes her head and points to the bar. “We’re going in there.”
“But we’re not twenty-one.”
“The owners will be cool with it.” She reaches for the door handle, glancing at me funnily. “Have you never been in a bar before?”
I snort a laugh. “My dad’s an alcoholic, so yeah, I’ve been in bars before.”
She nods in understanding. The fact that I don’t have to explain to her why my dad’s alcoholism means I’ve gone into bars says a lot about her.
She shoves open the door. “Come on; you’re going to love the food here.” She hops out. “They have the best chicken wings.”
Grabbing my keys and phone, I climb out and bump the door shut. “Do you know the owners?” I ask we cross the gravel parking lot of the auto shop and make our way toward the bar.
She nods. “They’re probably the closest thing to parents that me and my brothers have.” She gives me a sidelong glance as we veer down an alleyway that runs between the bar and the parking lot of the auto shop then hitches her finger in the direction of the auto shop. “Blaise, Alex, and Rhyland actually work there.”
“Oh yeah, I remember Blaise mentioning he worked at an auto shop.”
“So, you have talked then?”
I waver, unsure how much she’s aware of the disaster that is currently my life. “We’ve chatted a little bit.”
“Without fighting?”
“Sort of?”
A grin takes over her face as we near the back entrance of the bar located right beside the trash cans. “Good.”
I grow suspicious. “Why’s that good?”
Her grin enlarges as she pulls open the door and steps inside, the smell of barbeque sauce and greasy French fries wafting out. “Because my brothers eat lunch here too.”
I freeze, one foot in the bar and one remaining outside. “Really?”
“Why’s that a problem?” she asks innocently, holding the door open for me. “It sounds like you two are sort of getting along now, right?”
“I guess.” I
scratch my injured wrist, a reminder of how I shouldn’t even be here eating lunch with Scarlett.
Her smile evaporates. “Is it really a problem? Because we can go eat somewhere else. We’re running a bit low on time, but there’s a coffee shop a few miles from here that has sandwiches and stuff. It’s nowhere near as good as here, but it’s not awful.”
I consider nodding, but the scent of chicken wings and fries touches my nostrils again and my stomach grumbles. “Here’s cool.”
“Are you sure?”
I nod and step inside a hallway lit up by neon signs. “Besides, I’ve got a bone to pick with your brother anyway.” And I need to see if he’s heard back from his old social worker and if he’s found out more about my father. Sure, I know how much trouble he’s in with Mr. Porterson but I’m not sure about this Axel guy. And what about the drugs and money buried in the backyard.
I could always just text Blaise and ask him—might be easier than trying to pretend I didn’t get branded by his father this morning—but this way I get to eat too. And I can have a chat about that little beautiful ass message he sent me during first period.
“What bone do you have to pick with him?” Scarlett’s eyes sparkle with curiosity against the neon light
“Well,” I start, “he sent me a very strange message today in class.”
