Page 24 of Paint the Town, Dove
And that’s why Mallory was my top pick.
No drama, nostress –
No Scar.
What a fucking buzzkill.
“Ready to go?” Speak of the devil, teleporting behind me like a ghost. Scarlett snagged her purse from the couch and headed for the hallway, spraying a mist of perfume on her pulse points.
“What took you so long?” I followed her out, locking the front door behind us.
“I told you –” she didn’t look at me – “I had to freshen up.”
The click of her heels faded down the hallway, towards the elevator doors.Away from me.
Chapter Eight
Scarlett
“… and what did it feel like to be cared for? Who would I adore? Would I still only love myself?”
Ryden fucking Spectre.
That lunatic, daring me to play his game of “Will I, Won’t I,” trying to get me to… to –feelsomething that could potentially wreck this whole empire. To ruin us.
(Or repair us) (What happened to us?) (What happened to you…)
NO. No, unacceptable.
I closed that door and I held my breath, caging the pain, the emotions, thepossibilities.
If we took it further, if I let him, if he let himself… there would be no going back. We’d lose each other. We’d implode.
He was my best friend. He was my client. He was the only person on this planet I couldn’t lose.
So I locked my words in the airways of my throat and I stared at myself in the mirror, baffled by the person I’d become.
“Scarlett Emory-Blake,” I mouthed, over and over until my lips blurred into red poker chips and all I could see was the money (I used to help us escape), the finesse (I used to secure this position), and the rage (that made me who I am).
Back to Black.
Wise words, Amy Winehouse. Wise words.
I learned how to compose myself, so walking out of that bathroom door was easy. Leaving Ryden behind was hard. Knowing he was staring at me, trying to find the cracks I tried so hard to patch up.
If I learned anything growing up, it was to limit your affection. If people could reach you, they could hurt you. Always watch your back, always learn the enemy.
That’s why I never did relationships.
People can’t twist the knife if they don’t know where to stab.
Not that Ryden would ever hurt me, I just didn’t want to give him the chance to. He did that enough in unmistakable ways, ways where he hurthimself.
He caught up, positioning himself beside me as the elevator doors closed. “How do you walk so fast in those?”
I felt the sudden urge to lean on his shoulder, to feel that closeness again, but I wouldn’t.Couldn’t. I stepped aside.
If he noticed, he didn’t say anything.
