Page 30 of Queen of The Reapers
“And the s… scratches on your face?” Tristan asks, squinting his eyes to get a better look at them.
“Happened two days ago.” She says, bitterly. “You know, when I was helping you guys save her stupid ass. Remind me again why I did that?”
“Because we would’ve killed you, if you didn’t.” Atlas clips before letting out a heavy sigh. “How did it happen?”
“After you guys left, Jessie saw an opportunity to escape, and she ran with it. Luckily, after a minor scuffle, I was able to take her down.”
Atlas studies her for a second. “She’s telling the truth.” He says, turning to look out at the infinity pool.
“Of course I am. I didn’t even know crazy pants had a sister until you guys mentioned it two days ago. Aside from having no reason to do it, I wouldn’t have had enough time to find her, let alone pull off something that horrific.”
She’s right. And if I had just come into this with a clear head, I would’ve seen that. Not only did it not make sense for her to go after Alex, but she had no time to make it happen.
“Then who else would target her sister?” Cyrus asks, looking back and forth between the two of us.
Melanie smirks and slowly opens her eyes before glaring at me. “How do you know your sister was the target?”
My brow furrows in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Isn't it obvious?” She scoffs, flipping her hair back as she sits up in her seat. “I mean, I don’t blame you for being dense. It seems to be part of your charm. But you guys have been in this game for years. How do you not see it? A motel room gets trashed. Who’s the target?”
“The occupant.” The twins retort in unison.
“What’s your point, Mel?” Atlas asks, brushing off her not-so-subtle dig at my intelligence.
“One, maybe two people had a big enough issue with Stevie to make something like this happen. One is rotting in prison, courtesy of moi. You’re welcome, by the way. And the other is sitting in front of you with a rock solid alibi. What does that tell you?”
“It’s someone else.” Atlas says, rubbing his chin. “We know that, but there isn't anyone else who knows about her sister.”
“My point exactly.” She says, with a smug smirk. Seeing the confusion on all of our faces, Melanie shakes her head and sits up in her chair before elaborating. “What if her sister wasn't the intended target?”
“What do you mean?” Tris asks, cocking his head at her. “This was s… some kind of mistake?”
“You said it yourself.” She retorts, shrugging her shoulders. “Stevie's enemies are all accounted for, but what about yours?”
“That's impossible.” Cyrus says dismissively. “Even if it is one of our enemies, how the hell would they know who her sister is?”
“Therein lies her mistake.” Melanie says, leveling her eyes on me. “Tell me, Stevie… who’s the room registered to?”
My jaw slacks, and my pulse skyrockets. I don't want to believe it, but everything she’s saying makes sense. I caused this. I'm the reason my sister was taken. I spent so much time blaming everyone else, but it was me all along. I'm the monster. Inadvertently or not, I led The Reapers’ enemies to my sister. Whatever happens to her from here on out is because of me and the choices I made.
“This attack wasn’t someone trying to get back at her, it was someone getting back at the four of you. I'm surprised this didn't click for you sooner, then again, you’ve never really had anything worth taking. Until now.”
The three of them stand there in silence. Their hard faces, completely unreadable. But they know as well as I do that she's right.
“You practically own one of the wealthiest cities in California.” Mel adds. “That kind of power comes with a price. And it looks like Stevie's little sister is the one paying for it.”
After a few moments of silence, Atlas is the first to speak up. There's a storm of emotions behind his eyes, but his expression gives nothing away.
“I’m sorry about this, Mel.” He says, changing the subject as he rakes a hand through his hair. “We should’ve never brought you into this.”
Melanie scoffs at his apology and turns away.
“I don’t need your sympathy.” She hisses, laying back down in her chair. “I need you to get the fuck off of my property. This was fun, but the next time you decide to show up at my house again, uninvited, I’ll kill you myself.”
Fourteen
Sweat tricklesdown my brow as my feet pound against the treadmill.‘Jokes on You’ by Charlotte Lawrencestarts up again and the lyrics rip into me. I’ve been running for almost an hour and my legs already feel like jelly, but I can’t stop. If I stop, I’ll think. And if I think, I’ll feel. Feeling isn’t an option right now.
