“I’m serious,” she insists. “This has nothing to do with… it doesn’t…ugh.”
“I’m not upset,” I reiterate. “Seriously. I appreciate you giving me a heads up.”
“Thereisno heads up to give! I—” she stuffs her fist in her mouth. “How can I make it up to you?”
Well… “Tell me more about the compound. If I’m gonna be stuck here, might as well get to know it.”
Something glimmers in her eyes—suspicion. But it’s gone as quickly as it came, replaced by guilt. “Right. Well, you got the official tour from Max—”
“It was segued by an argument.” I pause. “Over you.”
“Fuck,” she whispers.
Belaboring this point isn’t terribly nice, but if Scarlett feels like she owes me something, it’ll loosen her tongue.
She starts telling me about the fortress, going over all the buildings and their purposes. She tells me there are a few dozen guys here, all with different backgrounds but who have one thing in common; they’re very good at killing people. She tells me more about Cain, which is a particular point of interest to me.
I might not trust the man, but it’s difficult not to respect him. He’s smart, sharp, and has risen to insane power at a very young age. He looks like he’s in his early thirties.
“He’s not to be trusted,” she says emphatically. “All he cares about is power and ambition. Literally nothing else. Well… Grey’s told me he already has his chosen picked out, and seems to care about her, but I don’t know if he’s capable of caring about people. He’s a complete sociopath.”
I already deduced as much. “Interesting. Do the guys like him?”
“They respect him,” she says. “They like Grey and Max, and they appreciate, respect, and fear Cain.”
Interesting, indeed.“Why do you hate Cain?”
Scarlett blows out a long breath. “He played with my life and with Greyson’s. Hedged his bets and repeatedly put both of us at massive risk—especially Greyson.” She swallows. “The first time he took me, I poisoned Greyson and escaped before he brought me back here permanently. Cain is the one who got me the flowers to poison Greyson with, and knew that I stole an antidote from medical. He didn’t intervene, even though I planned on killing Grey. He knew all my moves before I made them—he orchestrated the whole thing.”
That’s the first thing she’s said that makes me respect her as a human. I lean forward, interested. “Why’d you try to kill him?”
“It’s a long story. Basically, Greyson thought I’d teamed up with my dad to kill his brother—I didn’t, but the old Nighthawk’s leader convinced him I did. Grey was insane from grief, so he kidnapped me and tortured me before realizing I was innocent. Cain did, too, and he knew I was innocent all along.” She sighs. “Once Grey figured out that I wasn’t at fault, he took me out of the cell and claimed me as his chosen. I hated himso much. I wanted to get out of here, so I did.”
Very interesting, indeed. Maybe Scarlettisa worthy ally, after all. “Why didn’t you escape again?”
“Because I realized Greyson actually did love me. He risked his life to spare me a punishment from Cain when I fucked up, and got his back shredded for the trouble. Almost died. Then, he risked his life for me again when my father attacked the compound.” She lifts her shoulders. “He proved again and again that I could trust him and that he loved me. Somewhere along the way, I fell for him.”
Huh. It could still be Stockholm Syndrome, but at least it sounds like Greyson genuinely cares for her.
As does Max.
The door beeps, and a second later, the man in question swings it open and steps through. “Ladies,” Max says. “Did youhave fun?”
“Somuch fun.” I bare my teeth at him. “I learned alotfrom Scarlett.”
Max catches the hostility in my tone and raises his eyebrows. Looks at Scarlett for explanation, who takes the opportunity to scurry out without another word, slamming the door behind her.
“Did you upset her again?” Max asks, frowning.
“Nope.” I stare hard at him. “You seem to care an awful lot about her emotional state.”
His face goes blank. Yup, fucker definitely still has a thing for her.Total. Asshole. “She’s my friend.”
“It’s nice to have friends as invested as you.” I stand from the couch, releasing a bitter laugh. “With a friend like you, who needs enemies?” When Max’s eyes narrow, I change topics. “I’d like to hit the gym.”
“Ember—” he trails off with a sigh. “Yeah, alright. Let’s go.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
