Page 73 of Cry Madness
But again, she tenaciously jumps in my path. “Maddox, please,” she pleads. “I’m sorry.”
I stop, aware of the eyes on us. I grasp her by the arm and drag her off to the side of the room. “Wrong person to be apologizing to.”
She has the audacity to do that whole doe-eyed thing with me. “You don’t understand.”
“I don’t want to understand anything about you,” I spit as I, again, attempt to walk away.
However, Scarlett shouts, “Wait!” freezing me mid-step. I slowly turn back around to face her, nearly colliding with her because she scurried up behind me…
…like a fucking hemorrhoid sticking out of my ass.
Clenching my jaw, I realize the people nearby are focusing too intently on us, and every nerve in my body feels raw. I wag my finger at her, growling, “Lower your fucking voice.”
She winces as if I slapped her. “Wait,” she repeats, quieter, and adds, “Please.”
Suddenly suspicious, everything about this whole scene is wrong. Scarlett would never act this needy, not even with me.Never. And she’s never,ever, said please, not in her entire bitchy life. Honestly, I’m shocked she can speak it at all, and when I destroy the space between us, she wisely backs up—until she slams into the wall. “What are you up to, Scar?”
With her arms positioned behind her to support her back, she shakes her head. Her already fair complexion pales to an almost sickly white. A hard swallow bobs down her throat. “Nothing.” Her denial is so full of shit I can smell the stink a mile away.
“Liar,” I accuse. “You don’t know how to function if you’re not scheming against someone. Tell me what the fuck?—”
“Is there a problem?”
I shut my eyes for a moment and take a deep breath. Sadly, it does nothing to soothe my escalating anger. When I turn to Roman, I’m nearly boiling with the raging need to find Alice. Yet here I am, dealing with her nonsense. “Ask your daughter.”
Roman’s mask is off, and by his expression, he’s not about to let us embarrass him in front of Wonderland’s aristocracy. “I’m asking you, Maddox.”
“There’s no problem, Daddy.” Scarlett’s sickly-sweet tone and the false smile she gives Roman make me want to puke.
His expression softens a smidge. This is Roman McQueen, after all, and while he’s definitely indulgent with his wife and daughters, he still has his limits. He’s also fully aware of whoScarlett is, that she’s a mirror of his ruthless personality. “No?” At her nod, he turns his attention back to me. “I’ll ask you again, Maddox. Is there an issue concerning my daughter that we need to address?”
I clench my jaw, gritting out, “Alice is gone, and for whatever reason, your daughter has taken it upon herself to become an obstacle.”
Scarlett is now shaking her head furiously. “That’s not true!” she insists.
“What do you mean Alice is gone?” Roman demands, ignoring Scarlett.
“Gone as in she went outside with Katherine, but one of them came back. The other didn’t.”
I can practically see Roman’s mind working, and predictably, those gears are now turning in the same direction as mine. “And you think?—”
“I don’t know what I think,” I snap, cutting him off. But I do, and the suspicion that’s rapidly morphing into fear has everything to do with Knavish. “Now, with all due respect, please get the fuck out of my way.” I look directly at Scarlett when I add, “And if you continue to be a roadblock, I’ll be forced to act accordingly.”
“You’re not threatening my daughter, Maddox.”
“I absolutely am.” I sidestep Roman. “Scarlett knows about Knavish, and I’d wager your entire fortune that she knows a shit-ton more than she has the balls to admit.”
“Meaning?”
But I leave his question open and unanswered, hanging in the air around him and his daughter. Time becomes a steady hammer, banging persistently against my brain, reminding me that every second wasted here is another moment Alice is outthere—alone. Plus, anything Scarlett might say will probably be a bunch of bullshit anyway. She’s a master manipulator with a knack for weaving seamless lies.
Weaving through the crowd, I’m almost at the back doors when March comes up beside me. “You look like a man on a mission.”
“I am,” I declare curtly. “Alice is missing.”
He drags a hand through his hair and mutters, “Jesus Christ.”
“If he’s here, he’s a dead man, March, I swear to fucking God,” I growl.