Page 125 of Scarred

“Ah, ah, ah,” I tsk, walking toward him. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” I grab his wrist and snap it back, the gun flipping from his grip and into my own.

“Oops! Would you look at that?” I stare down at the pistol and then back to him.

Another man stands, his brown hair sticking up in random spots and his gray eyes narrowed in disgust. “Do you have a death wish?” He laughs, glancing around. “You must be as crazy as they say, walking into a bar filled with your brother’s army.”

Chuckles float through the room, and I suck on the end of my joint, letting the smoke unfurl through my nose, as a few of them rise and point their guns at my chest. Chairs scrape and there’s a flurry of activity, the sound of pistols cocking loud in the otherwise silent space. But instead of aiming them at me, they aim them at the ones who wish to harm me.

“Well, Iamas crazy as they. But I also brought reinforcements.” Grinning, I throw my hands out to the side, the pistol heavy as it dangles from my finger. “I suppose I should have led with that.”

I point between the four men who are now being held at gunpoint.

“Now,” I walk closer, taking the joint from between my lips. “Which one of you wants to be the one who lives?”

They’re all silent, obviously afraid to move, to breathe, in fear they’ll be shot on the spot. I don’t blame them.

They would be.

“I’ll tell you what.” I clap my hands, ash falling like snowflakes on the floor. “I’ll be outside while you decide who gets to be the lucky soldier to take a message back to my brother.” I cock my head. “But I should probably warn you, I’m a little antsy. You see, he has something of mine, and I’mdesperateto get it back.”

The man in the very front lifts his chin. “What’s the message?”

Sighing, I pinch the bridge of my nose, walking toward him and placing my arm around his shoulders. “Fine.” I roll my eyes, dragging him with me to the door. “I pick you.”

I wave my hand behind me, and gunshots ring out in tandem, the sound of bodies dropping to the floor following soon after. I don’t bother turning to look, but I make a mental note to never torture Edward again after how effortlessly he set up our plans when I wasn’t able.

Gripping the man to me tighter, I walk us through the front doors and outside, pointing at Edward who’s in front of the patisserie, then Sheina who’s at the building next to him, and then across the street to Belinda and Earl. “Do you see them?”

His body trembles, but he nods. “Good.Do you know what my favorite part about an ethanol fire is?” I ask, glancing down at the glowing end of my joint.

The uniformed men who are nowmyloyal soldiers leave the bar, walk down the steps, and move to stand behind me.

“Your Highness…” the man says as I spin around to face him.

“It’s extremely difficult to put out the blaze,” I continue, cocking my head. “You might want to move.”

He throws his body forward at the same time I flick my joint, grinning as it hits the building and catches on fire. I watch the flames, satisfaction brewing in my gut, before twisting to make sure the others have started theirs as well.

They have.

The guy on the ground gapes, wide eyed at the four burning buildings, smoke curling up in the air as people scream and run outside, trying to escape the fires.

I step closer to him, gazing down as he trembles at my feet. “Tell my brother that if he doesn’t give me Sara, I will burn this entire city, this entirecountryto the ground, until he has nothing left to rule.”

CHAPTER54

Sara B.

This time, although I’m still in chains, at least I’m in a room.

It’s been days now. They haven’t hurt me physically; in case they need to use me for photos in the press.

They’re trying to lure Tristan in by using me as bait.

And through it all, the only thing I can think of ishe’s alive. He made it.

The door to my room opens, Michael and my uncle stepping inside, the way they do every day around this time, just to torment me.

“Sara,” Uncle Raf starts. “We don’t wish to keep you chained up forever.”