Grievous (Scarlet Scars #2)

“I know.”

She says nothing else, although I can tell there’s more she wants to. Whether or not she should is another question. Maybe I’m not the only one with a heart and a mind at odds.

“Goodnight, Scarlet,” I say. “Take care of yourself.”

Her voice is barely a whisper as she says, “Goodnight.”

Hanging up, I shove the phone back into my pocket before pushing away from the hood and reaching into the backseat of the car, snatching out the filthy, old teddy bear I’d thrown there days ago after cleaning out the car. I walk away, finally approaching the house, my footsteps quiet as I go through the gate and navigate the walkway. Stepping up onto the porch, I prop the bear against the door where I know it’ll be found.

Darkness falls over the rest of the house as I walk away, the bedroom light turning off. I climb straight into the passenger seat of my car, waiting for Seven to get in behind the wheel. A minute or so passes as I stare blankly at the dashboard, waiting for Seven to start the car, when I hear his voice. “Uh, boss...”

I close my eyes as I lean my head back against the seat, covering my face with my hands. “Not now.”

“But—”

“Just drive the fucking car, Seven.”

“Somebody’s here.”

Somebody’s here.

I look at Seven, but he’s not looking at me. His gaze is across the neighborhood, just past Scarlet’s now darkened house, where her and her daughter are in bed, probably beckoning sleep. Somebody stands there, in the shadows, watching. I struggle to get a good look until they turn, a nearby streetlight illuminating them.

Markel. “Shit.”

I look from him to the house to him again. You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. Instinctively, I reach for the gun in my waistband, even though I can’t use it. I can’t go shooting all willy-nilly in front of her house. The last thing she needs is to wake up to a dead Russian in her front yard, his blood splattering her pretty little fence.

So I keep my grip on my gun, just in case I have to use it, in case he doesn’t give me any other choice, and I watch him in silence, letting him make the first move.

Ten minutes pass.

Fifteen. Twenty.

He just stands there before walking away. Leaving. I watch as he gets into a black SUV down the street, starting it up to leave.

“Follow him,” I say.

Markel drives straight to Limerence, parking out front and going inside. The place is dark, no lights on, no open sign lit. I’m not sure what Jameson did about the girl in the basement, if he did anything at all. I don’t know what happened with all of the other girls, either, the ones who worked here every night, now that the man who controlled them is gone. It’s possible Markel took over, but I don’t know...

Honestly, and maybe this makes me an asshole, but I don’t really care, either.

But I do care what happens to Scarlet.

I’m not going to let anyone hurt her.

“Wait here,” I tell Seven. “I’ll be right back.”

I get out, still clutching my gun, and head inside the club. Dark and quiet, so quiet that the sound of my footsteps echoes through the vast space.

It feels abandoned.

I’m not sure where he went, so I start with the office, figuring that’s my best bet, under the circumstances.

The door is wide open.

Markel sits inside, alone on the couch, holding a bottle of vodka. He takes a swig from it as he looks at me, not surprised by my presence. I know he saw me there, at the house. He would’ve figured I’d follow.

“I mean them no harm,” he says.

“You expect me to believe that?”

“Ah, it doesn’t matter what you believe, but it’s true.”

He shrugs me off, drinking in silence, like that’s that.

“So, if you don’t mean them any harm, why go there?”

“Why did you go?”

“Pretty sure that’s none of your business.”

He laughs. “I could say the same.”

I stroll closer. Call it curiosity. Maybe it’s boredom. But I take a seat on the edge of the couch across from him, wondering what his end-game is.

It’s silent for a moment before he says, “Limerence. Do you know what the word means?”

“No.”

“It’s obsession, compulsion, when love is not love but something more... dangerous. It is an uncontrollable need, when you cannot live without someone. I always thought it was funny Kassian named this place Limerence, because that was how he felt about her. It was a sickness. I knew, eventually, he would grow so sick that he would kill them all... that is why I helped her.”

“You helped her.”

“I was supposed to keep an eye on her the night she escaped. I saw her. I knew what she was doing. And I knew it was her only chance. So I looked the other way, and I paid for that. He ordered me to find her, and I did, but I never told him. Every night, he sent me out looking. Every night, I would go to that house and I would see her.”

“Why?”

He shrugs. “I was invested.”

“That’s why you went there tonight? Invested?”

He shrugs again.

“So, how’d he find her?” I ask. “If you never told him where she lived, how’d he catch up to her?”

Markel stares at me, frowning. I don’t need him to answer to riddle that one out. Kassian followed him.

“He used to offer her to me,” Markel says. “Whenever he left on business, he would have me watch her. As payment, I could take her, all night, do whatever I wanted. He just had one rule: always use a condom. That’s why he planned to kill you, you know. He didn’t care if people used her for pleasure as long as they didn’t leave any trace of themselves inside of her.”

“That’s a fucked up way to think.”

He laughs humorlessly. “The nights Kassian left on business were the only nights Morgan had peace. It was the only time she smiled. That was pleasure enough for me, so I didn’t touch her.”

He takes a drink... a long drink... like he’s a thirsty man guzzling water. He drains the rest of the bottle before sitting up, discarding it on the table between us.

“So many nights, he hurt her. Must have been hundreds of times. One night, he was worse than ever. He left afterward, and that night, instead of peace with me, she sought comfort. Maybe it was wrong, but I showed her love... and I broke my brother’s rule as I did so.” He shakes his head, looking away. “Nine months later, she gave birth.”

Son of a bitch. “You think the kid is yours.”

It suddenly makes sense why he’d look the other way, why he’d show up outside of her house night after night, why he’d do what he did to try to help them while still protecting his own ass.

“Well, this has certainly been enlightening,” I say, standing up, “but I think I’ve heard enough.”

“So you know I mean them no harm.”

“What I know is that it doesn’t matter what you mean, because you are as harmful as they come.”

BANG.

BANG.

BANG.

I unload the gun, bullet after bullet, right into his fucking chest, not a second of hesitation from the first trigger pull to the very last, shot after shot lighting up the room, until the gun does nothing but click.

CLICK.

CLICK.

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