“Got any friends as batshit crazy as you are?” he asks.
“How many do I need?”
“Just one.”
There’s only one face that comes to mind, but that means I’ll have to track her down. Tonight.
“I have someone. But I’ll need to find her first.”
“Aye,” he says. “Well we better get to it then.”
Thirty-Six
Scarlett
What a foolI was not to tear my heart out on the day when I resolved to avenge myself- Alexandre Dumas
It’sno small wonder that Booker hasn’t been able to locate Storm himself.
If I hadn’t already seen her in the flesh, I’d think she didn’t even exist.
We asked around the usual sources- people who are always good for giving me the information I need- and they didn’t know jack about her.
Which leaves us with good old fashioned detective work. Trawling through bars and hotels and clubs and anywhere else I think she might be.
It’s after midnight, and these heels are hot but uncomfortable, and Rory’s acting like he hasn’t noticed them at all.
All I want to do is curl up in his bed. To feel him against me again. To breathe him in and have his whispered words.
I want him to make me crazy promises all over again.
But we’re still a long way off from that.
When I look at him right now, I’m not sure if we’ll ever get back to that place again.
He can barely look at me.
I touch his arm, and he glances down at me.
“Kiss me,” I tell him.
He’s going to say no, so I make up a whole thing.
“If she’s here, then she’ll see it, and she’ll want to take you away. She likes to play with my toys.”
He grabs my wrist, and his grip is hard and unforgiving.
“I’m not a goddamn toy, Scarlett. And I’m not kissing you either.”
“Fine,” I pout. “Then I guess we’ll be here all night.”
Only we aren’t.
Because there she is.
Across the room, in the shadows, seeking out her next prey. Tonight, she’s wearing a blue wig and horn-rimmed glasses while she sucks on a lollipop.
She is not lacking for victims, and I need to do this fast.
