My lips quirk. “I like cats.” They’re so… regal and ‘I-don’t-give-a-fuck’, it’s impossible not to adore them. I remember always wanting a cat.
“I’ll have to bring him sometime,” Scarlett says. She gazes around the living room. “Why is Max’s place still a bachelor pad?”
I arch an eyebrow. “Because he furnished it?”
“What I mean is, why haven’t you started changing it up to fit your personality? It’s your place too, now. I redid my entire place with Greyson.”
My eyes narrow. “He let you do that?”
“He encouraged me to. Whatever makes me feel most comfortable.”
Huh. Maybe the whole captor/captive thingdoeswork for them… but I know it’ll never work for me. I’m meant to be free, and I’ve lived far too much of my life caged. And, before I can attain freedom, I still have some pesky killing of a tyrant to do.
“Sorry about pressing you yesterday,” I say, forcing myself not to add on,though examining your insecurities and the causes of them couldn’t hurt.
Scarlett lifts a shoulder, shifting from foot to foot. “It’s fine. I can’t blame you for having questions. I’ll answer whichever of them I can.”
What’s the best way to get out of here?Instead, I go with, “Why do you think Max would let me decorate this place?”
She meets my eyes. “Because he cares about you.”
I resist the urge to laugh out loud at that. He doesn’tcareabout me; he wants tocontrolme.
Right?
“How would any packages I order even get here?” I ask, frowning. “The gates look uncrossable.”
“They’re crossed all the time by guys who have the clearance,” Scarlett says lightly. “The compound has several huge PO boxes reserved in a nearby town; they pick up deliveries from there every day.”
“Huh.” I decide to switch topics before she can grow suspicious. “I saw the greenhouse. Your plants… that one hybrid is fucking fantastic. Does it really recycle oxygen three times faster than most other plants?”
Scarlett’s eyes brighten and she walks forward, joining me on the couch. Then, she dives into a long, winding lecture about botany and editing the genetics of plants. I listen with mild interest, but really, I’m searching for any other clues she drops.
At the end, though, she lets a bombshell slide.
“The greenhouse was almost destroyed when we were attacked a couple months back. Max saved my life. Grey and I were still on bad terms then, and Max becamesuperprotective of me.” She leans forward and says in a conspiratorial whisper, “Cain actually threatened Grey with giving me to Max, and I think he was open to it.”
“Is that so?” I drawl. The urge to wrap my hands around Scarlett’s neck and squeeze is nearly overwhelming, but I hold myself back. I already speculated that Max was interested in her; she just confirmed it. It shouldn’t matter.
It shouldn’t make me feel anything.
But itdoes. I refuse to think the emotion that lights me with anger is jealousy; it’snot. I’m mad because of Max’s lack of consideration. Bringing me here when he’s hung up on a taken woman? Talking about a future, a life together, while pining after the girl that got away?
If I felt any guilt at the thought of killing him before, it evaporates now.
Scarlett slaps a hand over her mouth, eyes widening. “Oh, shit. He didn’t tell you? Fuck, of course he didn’t,” she mumbles. Slowly, she lowers her hand, cheeks burning. “I don’t think Max was ever attracted to me—he just didn’t like the tension between me and Grey, and made that clear. He has a bit of a white-knight complex.”
You don’t say. He sniffed around Scarlett because he thought she needed saving; now, he’s fixated on me. I’m sure there’ll be someone else in the future, too.
I won’t stick around to find out.
“Please don’t be upset,” Scarlett whispers, looking afraid. “I didn’t mean to give the wrong impression—”
“No wrong impressions given, and I’d have to care to be upset.” I shrug. “Pining after you is Max’s prerogative.”
“He doesn’t pine after me,” Scarlett says, a bit shrilly. “I promise. If he did, Greyson would’ve killed him.”
I examine her expression. She thinks she’s being honest, but it’s possible she doesn’t know the full story. “Uh-huh.”
