“Funny. They’ve made a big show of you bein’ dirt beneath their feet,” O’Banion said, flashing me a smile that turned my blood cold. “Wouldn’t be the first time the Heirs got caught in a lie. So who are you to them, Scarlett Livingston?”
I frowned at the feeling that I’d just royally fucked up, and the fact that he knew my name sent warning bells off in my head.
"Well, we don't really talk much. Mostly I use one of them just as a fuck buddy," I said with a shrug, trying to backpedal. But based on the pleased look on his face, he knew I was full of shit. I started rambling, grasping at straws while he stepped closer. "Rogue’s actually supposed to meet me here any minute." I said, looking around. The train tracks were completely deserted. I was out of sight, and wasn't sure that anyone would hear me if I screamed. I had to make this guy believe that I wouldn't be alone for long.
"Here? Out in the open?” he asked, and I could hear the smile in his voice. “Kinky. I like it."
"We're not much for having an audience," I said. I tried to take a step back, but he grabbed my arm.
"I'm not much for bein’ told no," he said with a smile that made a shiver travel up my spine. I nearly choked at the implications of his words. I started thinking about all those fighting lessons Bonham gave me. I could yank out of his grip, maybe kick him in the balls. If I just ran fast enough, maybe... "But luckily for you, my purpose here is short-lived. I just needed to see you."
A gust of wind blew his hood open for a moment, giving me a glimpse of his pale face and bright blue eyes. His head was shaved, and I got a glimpse of a tattoo on his neck that read "Brothers," before he readjusted the fabric to cover himself up once more.
"Why do you need to see me?" I asked, hating how my voice sounded weak and timid.
He squeezed my arm harder, making me wince. "I needed to see what was so special about you that got those boys all out of sorts. They put on an awful good show on when it came to you.”
I frowned in confusion.
“Had us nearly tricked, til we heard you showed up at his party and then our guy went missin.’ My boss Johnny Jack needed to know what was worth killing one of his men for,” he looked me up and down. “Now we know. You tell those boys that we know about you, and we know what they took, and my boss ain’t happy.”
I swallowed hard, my heartbeat blaring in my ears. Off to the distance, I could have sworn I heard another person approaching, but I couldn't see them when I turned to look.
"Bye, Scarlett Livingston. You tell those boys what I said now, you hear?"
Dean O’Banion let go of me and walked away, leaving me alone on the train tracks. I watched him retreat, my body trembling from fear and adrenaline.
What the fuck just happened?
That man knew. He knew that the guys had killed someone, and he knew my name.
My heart raced, and it felt like my feet were stuck to the ground, too scared to move. Oddly, I felt more fear now, than I did when I saw Rogue murder a man. It was like my intuition was trying to warn me where the real danger was.
Once O’Banion was out of sight, I sucked in a deep breath, and then I ran. I ran so hard my skirt billowed up with each step. I pounded my shoes into the concrete as I fled past shops and restaurants and curious people. Me feel ached, my backpack bounced against my back, but I ran until my lungs felt like they were going to burst. I needed answers, but most of all, I needed to feel safe again. So I went to the only place that could give me both of those things.
I went to Rogue's house.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Rogue
Last period ended, and I gathered my shit to leave. Mr. Davidson wouldn’t meet my eye as I passed. I was pretty sure the fucker pissed his Chinos every time he had to teach a class with me in it. But that might have something to do with the time I caught him looking down Scarlett’s shirt when she was bent over his desk, picking up her papers. I stayed after class that day and reminded him that it would be in his best interest to keep his eyes where they belonged, or I’d have someone remove them. He didn’t look at Scarlett anymore.
As I was walking out of class, I got a text message, and I instantly tensed up when I read the words on the screen. “Fuck.”
“What?”
I looked over to see Bonham come up behind me, forcing people to walk around him as they tried to spill out of the classroom.
“It’s Jeff. Said Scarlett didn’t make it to last period.”
Bonham cursed under his breath. “And he’s just now telling us?”
I read more of the text. “Said he was trying to let us know, but Ms. Bitch snatched his cell before he could send it off.”
I quickly sent her a text. She didn’t reply. I tried calling her next, but it went straight to voicemail.
Bonham ran a palm over his head. “She was in fifth period. Luis was in there with her.”
I nodded. “Which means she cut out right after.”
“Did she catch a ride with her driver? Maybe she just went home.”
I was already ahead of him. I raised the phone to my ear, listening as it rang. “Hello?”
“You pick Scarlett up early?” I asked.
Scarlett’s driver paused on the other end. “No, sir. I’m waiting in the school parking lot to take her to dance.”
I cursed again, shaking my head no for Bonham’s benefit. As soon as I did, his expression turned worried, and he pulled out his phone, no doubt to text the other guys and get them to meet us here.
“Drive to the dance studio and see if she’s there, will you?”
“Of course, sir.”
I hung up the phone and started texting a couple of my contacts, putting the word out that I was looking for her. I had to be careful. The number of people I could trust these days was few and far between.
Pretty soon, Luis and Godfrey strode up, and based on their expressions, I knew that Bonham had already filled them in. Scarlett might’ve thought that she would just be pissing us off by ditching early, but there was way more going on here than she knew.
I wasted no time in giving out orders. “We split up. I got her driver looking for her at the dance school. You two go to her house, see if she walked there. Bonham and I will go to that stupid fucking college boy’s place.”
“She might be at the train tracks,” Godfrey offered.
My eyebrows raised in surprise. “She still goes there?”
He nodded. “Sometimes.”
“Alright, check there. We’ll go to the gym first. She likes to go there, too.”
“I didn’t know she was still taking classes,” Bonham said.
“She’s not. Her mama won’t let her. Said she got too muscular looking or some shit. Scarlett sneaks in on her own sometimes. The coach lets her.”
The others frowned. Principal Livingston was fucked in the head when it came to her daughter. I remembered what Scarlett had looked like when she was doing gymnastics lessons, on route for the Olympics. She looked fucking hot as hell. And even though she wasn’t doing rigorous training anymore, she’d kept her fit and tight body, and she still looked hot as hell. I could bounce a quarter off her ass, but mostly, I just pictured taking a bite out of it. Or bending her over and fucking her.