Grievous (Scarlet Scars #2)

It’s quiet. Almost too quiet. Nothing happens for a moment. The guy who answered the door doesn’t come back. Did he leave? Nobody else seems concerned, though, so I try to relax, until out of nowhere I hear his voice—cool and calm, almost mockingly so. “No offense, Aristotle, but your parties kind of suck.”

My eyes dart to the doorway, right to where he appears. Lorenzo. My heart beats so frantically my vision blurs. He’s wearing black from head-to-toe: black slacks, black shirt, black combat boots. He looks almost sinister, standing there in the shadows, hands shoved in his pockets. He glances around at the men, gaze lingering on Declan, before he turns to Kassian, skipping right over me.

It’s like I’m not even here.

Like I no longer exist to him.

My insides twist in knots, and I swallow thickly. I feel like I’m going to be sick. Ugh.

“Ah, yes, well, there are usually more women,” Kassian says, reaching down to pat my head. “Tonight, we only have our little guest of honor, but she is quite enjoyable on her own. I am sure she would be more than happy to liven things up for you.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I’ve already fucked her,” Lorenzo says, those words nonchalant, but they hit me like a blow to the chest. “More than a few times, actually.”

“So I have heard.” Kassian fists a handful of my hair and roughly tugs my head up, so I’ll look at him instead of Lorenzo. “But who has not fucked her?”

A throat clears nearby, a voice chiming in. “I haven’t.”

Declan.

Kassian loosens his grip on my hair. “Ah, yes, you have a thing for one of the others. Lexie. Seems she took a liking to you, also.”

“Can you blame her?” Declan asks.

“Yes,” Kassian says with a laugh, “I can.”

Slowly, I turn my head again, my eyes shifting back to Lorenzo in the doorway. He’s staring at me now, his expression blank, not a hint of emotion to be found anywhere. I so desperately wish I knew what he was thinking, wish I knew what was going through his mind. I wonder if he came here with a plan, if he knows what he’s doing, if he realizes why Kassian told him to come. I wish he could hear my thoughts, so that I could warn him, so that I could thank him for everything he’s done to help.

So that I could tell him to get the fuck out of here.

As he stares at me, his cheek twitches, the slightest hint of a frown tugging his lips.

“Sit, Mister Scar,” Kassian says. “Have a drink.”

Blinking, Lorenzo turns away from me again, looking to Kassian. “I’d rather we get business out of the way first.”

“Fair enough,” Kassian says, shoving out of his chair, leaning across me to grab a black duffel bag from the floor nearby. He drops it on the center of the table before sitting back down. “A million. It is all there. Every dollar I promised for her.”

Lorenzo strolls into the room, coming closer... and closer... and closer, stopping so close to me that I can smell the faint hint of his soap as he leans down, unzipping the bag.

It’s overflowing with cash. I can see that from here. Lorenzo shifts through it, but he doesn’t bother counting before zipping it back up.

Snatching up the bag, he tosses it over to Declan, nearly knocking the wind out of the guy as it lands on his lap with a thud.

“Take that out to your car, Three,” Lorenzo says.

Declan forces his way up off the couch, not one to disregard an order. The guys in the room look around, not sure if they’re supposed to let him leave, looking to Kassian for some guidance.

“What is the rush?” Kassian asks, waving them off. “Sit. Enjoy yourselves. No need to run off.”

“I’m not running anywhere,” Lorenzo says, grabbing Kassian’s discarded vodka bottle from the table. He sniffs it before taking a swig.

Declan walks out, lugging the heavy bag with him. I can feel Kassian tense, his hand shifting to my shoulder, squeezing it hard, like he thinks Lorenzo might try to have me hauled out of here next.

Lorenzo steps over and drops down onto the couch, taking the seat Declan vacated. He looks at the guys on either side of him, assessing them, as he helps himself to the liquor. He seems at ease, more than he ought to, a fact that I know is ruffling Kassian.

His grip gets tighter... and tighter... and tighter.

I wince, trying to move from his grasp, trying to scoot to the right, out of his reach, but he isn’t having that. His hand shifts once again, this time grasping the back of my neck as he leans down toward me, saying, “It seems you were wrong, pretty girl.”

“Fuck you,” I whisper.

He laughs at me, and I shudder at the feel of his breath on my skin.

“Eager, are we?” he asks, running his nose along my hair. “Patience, pussycat.”

“So, tell me something, Jabba,” Lorenzo says, interrupting. “You got the kid frozen in carbonite somewhere?”

Kassian pulls away from me, but he doesn’t let go of my neck. “Jabba?”

“Yeah, you know, Star Wars,” Lorenzo says. “You seem to have a Jabba the Hutt thing going on with your chained-up dancers. Quite uncanny, really.”

“Star Wars?” Kassian’s voice is incredulous. “I do not like all that space stuff, with those aliens and the beam me up nonsense.”

Lorenzo coughs, choking on some vodka. Sitting up, he points the bottle at Kassian. “Did you seriously just...?”

“Star Wars,” Kassian says, waving him off. “It is all so stupid.”

Something happens in that moment. A flicker of rage flashes across Lorenzo’s face. Before the last syllable even passes from Kassian’s lips, Lorenzo snaps.

Flipping the liquor bottle around, he snatches it by the neck and swings hard, like a baseball bat, slamming the guy to his right in the head with it.

BAM.

The bottle shatters, glass scattering, vodka saturating the room as the guy falls limp. Knocked out. The guy to Lorenzo’s left grabs him, to try to stop him, but there’s not much he can do to ward off what’s happening. Still clutching the neck of the broken bottle, Lorenzo turns, not hesitating at all as he lunges, stabbing, the jagged glass plunging through the side of the guy’s neck.

The guy gurgles, gasping, panicked, and yanks the bottle out. Mistake. Big fucking mistake. Blood spurts from the wound, shooting out like a water fountain, not stopping even as he grasps his neck, holding tightly.

Lorenzo shoves the guy off the couch, unfazed as the blood splatters him.

Seconds. Mere seconds. If I would’ve blinked, I would’ve missed it all. Kassian reacts, shoving up out of the chair in alarm. His fingers wind tightly through my hair, forcing me to my feet, pulling me against him as he steps back, away from the table, putting some distance between the men. I cry out as pain radiates along my scalp, feeling like he’s ripping out clumps of hair. His hands shift, arm winding around my neck, putting me in a headlock from behind, my body shielding part of his.

Lorenzo’s on his feet, pulling a gun from beneath his shirt. He cocks it, aiming at Kassian. Aiming at me. My heart races.

“Hiding behind a woman?” Lorenzo asks. “Kind of a dick move, isn’t it, Jabba?”

“Sentimental fool,” Kassian says. “You would not risk hurting your precious Scarlet. You do not have the guts to pull the trigger.”

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