I look at her, and for once, I’m at a fucking loss.
[ 14 ]
SCARLETT
Cross grabs a holdof my arm and drags me over to another door. “Let’s go.”
I huff and try to tug out of his grip. “Go where?”
The door opens, and instead of the noisy crowd appearing, it’s a long dark hallway. Cross glares at me over his shoulder. “To get the money to pay off yourboyfriend,” he hisses.
I jerk on my arm again, but Cross keeps pulling me behind him. “He isn’t my boyfriend,” I stress.
He rolls his eyes. “Ex-boyfriend, then.”
“He’s not even an ex-boyfriend!” My voice echoes against the walls and follows us all the way out to the back parking lot.
Cross spins me around, his grip on me still tight against my arm. “Then what is he?”
My mouth clamps shut, teeth clattering against one another. Cross raises an eyebrow. His swollen cheek bone is bruising, and there’s dried blood on his lip. I move my eyes back and forth between his as he waits for me to answer, but I don’t.
Ican’t.
Eventually, he rolls his eyes and continues pulling me over to his car. I try to put the brakes on, but it’s no use going up against Cross.
“What about my phone?” I ask as he angrily opens the passenger door.
He pushes me inside. “Tyler will get it.”
“And what about–” The door slams in my face, and I growl.
As soon as he’s settled in the driver’s seat, I continue. “What about Sawyer? I came here with her. She’s going to wonder where I went.”
Cross floors the pedal, and we zip out of the parking lot. “Tyler will get her too.” He glances at me, and his mouth flattens. “Put your seatbelt on.”
I do as he says, though it nearly kills me.
It takes us no time to get back to the house. I put my hand on the door handle when the car is in park, and he snaps his attention over to me so quickly the air moves.
“Stay here.”
I cross my arms. “I’m not a dog!”
His eyes narrow in the dark. He gets out and slams the door again.
I’m tempted to get out and run, but after seeing Nicholas and learning that he’s so close, I’m more afraid to do that than stay in this car with my broody stepbrother, whom I’ll now owe twenty thousand dollars.
When Cross gets back in the car, the silence is nearly deafening. He drops a thick, padded envelope on the center console. It’s folded in half and secured with a rubber band.
His hands, still wrapped around the knuckles from his fight, grasp the steering wheel. Wordlessly, we head back the way we came.
The closer we get to the warehouse, the more nervous I am. My fingers tremble so much I’m forced to tuck them underneath my legs.
Gravel crunches beneath the wheels as Cross comes to a stop, putting the car in park, and if I weren’t here an hour prior, Inever would’ve believed there was an elaborate fighting scheme. The warehouse is desolate now, the crowd leaving without a trace.
More silence stretches between Cross and me, and I refuse to look over at him.
I hate that he's privy to something so personal in my life and that I owe him. But there’s also a small part of me that’s full of gratitude, because he’s willing to part ways with his money just to banish Nicholas from my life–if he sticks to his word.
