I crouch down and grab the rapist’s jaw. “You ready, Nick? You’re going to be a prison bitch. I hope your asshole is ready for overtime.”
With that, Tyler and I release him. He falls backward, tears falling down his cheeks. Scarlett laces her hand with mine, and we leave him. I’ll hand-deliver the phone to the police along with the code to get in.
Outside, Scar blows out a breath. “Thank you, Cross.”
The smell of smoke tinges the air. There are sirens wailing in the distance, but they’re not headed here.
I tug her to my side and kiss the top of her head. “Let’s go home.”
SCARLETT
ONE YEAR LATER
Sawyerand I get ready together at her place. Cross’s and my place has been overtaken by his friends during senior week–our last hurrah as a class before we graduate–which means Sawyer has had to put up with me this week.
Not that I think she minds. Her cozy one-bedroom apartment is clean and very girly, kind of the opposite of my house.
Sawyer gives herself a once-over in the mirror. “What are the chances Cross is going to propose soon?”
I choke on my water. “He isnotgoing to propose soon. I feel like we just got our parents to look us in the eye during our monthly dinners.”
Sawyer grabs her keys as I toss my water in her pink–yes, pink–trash can. “And you think he cares about that?”
I think it over.
Of course he doesn’t.
I mean, don’t get me wrong. He is respectful when our parents are in proximity, but the dirty things we’ve done behind their backs, in their house, in public restrooms at restaurants…
A huff of air leaves me. “Probably not.”
Sawyer laughs, and I join in.
The drive to graduation is less than a minute, and as soon as she parks the car, we both grab our caps to adjust them in the mirror. My blonde hair has grown in the last year, so long luscious waves flow over my shoulders to rest against my maroon gown. The diamond earrings my dad and Sofia gifted me with at dinner on Friday gleam through the strands, putting a smile on my face.
They gave Cross something less glamorous but surprisingly sentimental: a tactical knife.
I thought it was a joke, given that Cross had put me in danger–something my father likes to remind him of–but it was actually a job offer to work at the business with him.
The knife once belonged to my father when he was a field agent. He obviously retired it, and he now sits behind a big fancy desk to run the entire company, but he’s kept it safe all these years. He and Sofia had it engraved with the words:Earned, not given.
Which was my dad’s way of saying thank you, for saving his daughter’s life.
However, Cross hasn’t accepted the job offer yet.
“There are the guys.” Sawyer nods to a large group of lacrosse players.
I spot Cross right away, his dark hair neatly styled underneath his cap with his eyes directly on me.
His lip lifts with a hot smirk, and I roll my eyes playfully.
Tyler catcalls Sawyer and me, and Cross elbows him in the stomach. A year older and they’re still the same.
Cross’s hands find their way to my waist, the silky material of my gown snagging against his fingers. He pulls me in for a kiss, squeezing my sides gently.
He pulls back and hovers his mouth over mine. “I’ve missed you.”
“You saw me yesterday,” I say.
