Page 22

21

SCARLET

I ’ve slept in all kinds of places over the years —a park bench, under a bridge, at a zoo— but never in a cemetery.

I woke half an hour ago and for the first time ever, I felt strangely at ease among the dead. It’s peaceful and quiet. Safe.

It might not have anything to do with the release of emotions from last night, or the man that guarded my dreams as I slept. Maybe it’s only because of that I can finally breathe.

Gently, I move Gunn’s hand off my hip and sit up. There’s still a light mist hovering in the air, coating everything in dew. Rivulets of water run down Alma’s headstone, and I reach to catch one on my fingertip.

A smile paints across my lips as something like peace washes over me.

“Good morning.” Gunn caresses my cheek.

“Hey.” I peer down at him.

“How do you feel?”

“Better.” I reach for his hand and entwine my fingers through his. “Thank you for bringing me here. How did you know what I needed?”

“I didn’t. Just kind of went with my gut.”

“You have good instincts.”

“Yeah.” He smirks sarcastically. “So good I didn’t see Luca’s big knife before he stabbed me in the back with it. I feel like an idiot for trusting him.”

“Maybe your gut wasn’t so off. He let you go.”

His eyes narrow as he considers that. “But something is still off.”

“Do you think he had an ulterior motive?”

“At this point, I can’t rule anything out.” He sits up too and drops his head low as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “You were right. We should have run.”

I’m about to answer when my phone buzzes. I pull it out of my boot and read the text that just came in. “It’s Gideon.”

“Let me guess, he’s checking in to make sure I’m dead.”

I shake my head and let him read it for himself.

Gideon: 899 Are you safe? Got a notice about a fire at The Keaton Banks Orphanage.

He looks at me. “Did you tell him about that place?”

“No. But he could have had that information dug up on you easily.”

His jaw ticks and he glances away, but not before I see his eyes glass over. “They set fire to it.”

“It might have been an accident.” I squeeze his arm, wishing I could provide the same amount of comfort he did me in my hour of need. “We should return and find out what the damage is.”

“It’s too risky.”

I look at my phone. Then, doing something else that could prove to be risky, I reply to Gideon.

Me: 998 Safe. Did the building survive the fire?

“What did you do?” Gunn snatches it out of my hand.

“We have to know.”

“No, we do—” He stops when the phone buzzes again, and we both turn to the screen.

Gideon: Destroyed.

Gideon: This wasn’t you?

“Let me reply.” I attempt to take my cell back.

Gunn quickly evades my grasp and pulls it out of reach. “He’s going to trace the call.”

“If he could, he would have already found us.” I retort. “This phone isn’t traceable.”

“The alliance was able to figure out where you were because of that phone.”

“They found out because of a message they read on Maisie’s, not because they traced mine. Trust me, it’s invisible.” I try again, and this time he lets me grab it. “Thank you.”

“What are you going to do?” He peeks over my shoulder as I type out a message.

“I’m going to gamble with our lives. You don’t mind, do you?” I grin at him.

“This old thing? I wouldn’t miss it.” The sarcastic tone in his voice is laced with real humor that makes me laugh.

But I sober quickly and cup his cheek. “I think you were originally right. Running would be a mistake. Having both the Sinacores and Gideon on our asses would only be fun for a short while.”

“Yeah, it would get boring after a week.” He nudges me with his shoulder.

“Yeah,” I agree. I look down at my phone and hit the send button.

Me: I need to come in.

Gideon’s reply is almost immediate.

Gideon: Hades.

“What does that mean?” Gunn asks.

“He’s just told me where he is.”

Hades is a warehouse on Flushing Bay, one with its own marina. It’s not abandoned, though that’s the appearance it gives with the broken windows and graffiti on the brick walls. There’s even a little alter with flowers and a picture of some random guy to give the impression that he died there.

All part of Gideon’s plan to give people the creeps so they don’t loiter.

It’s not abandoned, but it is empty. A shell of a place to be used as needed— for deliveries coming through La Guardia, a trade, or in my case, a meeting point.

Long before Gideon took ownership, Stephen Black used it to illegally ferry his contraband. The authorities seized it after The Ferryman’s death, and it wasn’t until recently that Gideon purchased it at auction. Like buying back a family heirloom, I suppose.

Gunn takes in the place and nods, as if he can believe Gideon would live here. “It goes to him.”

I slap his arm. “It’s not his house.”

“I wasn’t thinking that.”

“Yes, you were. I could see it in that smug smile. There he is.” I point to an area beneath a tree. “Pull up farther.”

“Are we sure about this?”

I wrap my arms around him and let out a breath. “No.”

He squeezes my hand, then moves us forward until we’re parked in front of Gideon’s black Bentley.

“He’s not inside,” Gunn whispers. I hear the distinct click of the hammer being locked in place as he tries to get off the bike.

I stop him. “Put the gun away.”

His teeth grind together, but he does it.

“Good little Gunner.” Gideon appears from some shadow, his own weapon drawn and aimed at my boyfriend. He glances icily at me. “Scar, you didn’t tell me you’d be bringing company. Company that should be dead, I might add. I’d have brought the hearse.”

I ignore his comment. “We’re here to ask for asylum.”

Now he turns his full attention on me, his face incredulous, but his steel gaze as hard as ever. “Asylum?”

“No. Not asylum,” Gunn interjects. “I’d like to arrange for Scarlet’s release from you.”

Gideon chuckles. “Release Scarlet so that she can run to the alliance and help you.”

“I’m not with the alliance anymore. As you’ve heard, they set fire to one of my buildings.”

“The alliance did that?” Gideon asks, genuinely perplexed. “Why would Luca do that?”

Gunn shrugs. “They were about as happy to see Scarlet and I together as you are.”

Amusement fills Gideon’s eyes. “I can work with this.”

A chill crawls up my spine. I just bet all sorts of ideas of how he can work this to his advantage are swirling in his mind.

“Gideon, you should know we went to Luca first,” I tell him. If things aren’t clear from the get go, shit gets twisted and people die.

His amusement vanishes. “You should have kept that to yourself.”

“I was afraid you’d be angry.”

“Scarlet, I’m beyond angry. First, you question me. Then you go against orders and fuck your target. Now you want my blessing in what is sure to turn out very poorly for you.

“You have created a problem for me. Do I hurt you now and kill him myself, but spare you the pain he’ll cause you later? Or do I let you go and then have to hunt his ass down to kill him when he does hurt you?

“Better yet, should I just take you both out now, him for being the enemy and you for a traitor?”

“You are mad,” I say.

Without asking for permission, he begins to pat me down, my arms, sides, and legs. Gunn seems ready to pounce, but I placate him. He knows what Gideon is doing; checking for bugs.

“ She can check me,” Gunn snarls when Gideon goes to him.

“If I trusted her, she could,” Gideon retorts, and the remark stings.

I watch as he searches him carefully, going as far as to make him take off his boots. Tugging the Glock from the holster on Gunn’s belt, he tucks it into his own.

“I don’t need a gun to kill you, Gideon,” Gunn growls.

Gideon grins. “That’s not why I’m taking it. Call it a gift for my willingness to listen to your ridiculous ideas about riding off into the sunset.” He glares at me with unadulterated rage and I shrink a little. “Get in the fucking car. Both of you.”

“The car?”

“We can’t have this conversation here. Too fucking open.”

“How do we know you won’t just kill us,” Gunn huffs.

“If I was going to do that, I’d do it in that building.” He points to the warehouse. “Instead, I’m taking you somewhere we can negotiate. Isn’t that what you want? To negotiate Scarlet’s release?”

“What about my bike,” Gunn asks.

“Leave it.”

Gunn’s jaw tenses, but he says nothing as he follows me to the car. He opens the passenger side for me and I’m about to duck into the back, when Gideon stops me.

“He goes in the back.”

I turn to Gunn and mentally measure him. “He’s like six foot five. No way he’ll fit.”

“Then we can strap him to the roof of the car. If he accidentally touches me, I’ll murder him.”

“You should go in the back,” I say, and help him in.

It’s going to be a long drive.