Scarlett Romero has spent her entire life as an ordinary citizen; going to school, getting a job and definitely not killing people in the middle of the woods on a Friday night.
Until one Friday night, she does.
All she can remember is acting out of...
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Chapter Thirty-Five "Alone with the Explosives Man"
Scarlett's POV:
I glare at Alexander, arms crossed over my chest and foot tapping against the ground. He glares back, stubborn as a mule. Kylie and I decided we would be the ones going to collect the explosives; Alexander doesn't like that decision.
The prison would assume Alexander and I would go together. They know Alexander wouldn't want me to leave his side, especially after what happened when we left Natalia.
They're right.
"No," he huffs, eyes glowing intensely. Achilles hates the decision just as much as Alexander, but they don't have a choice. Alexander blocks the entry of our tent, and all of my attempts to crawl around him have failed.
"There's no stopping this," I sing, picking up Kylie's grandmother's notebook and putting it in my pocket. I know Kylie said it had no use, but the weight of it is comforting. "Unless you think the prison won't be looking for us together?"
He ignores me, muttering to himself and shaking his head. I'm sure he's conversing with Achilles, thinking of the best way to keep me here, with them. I sigh, adrenaline and phantom pain a mixed cocktail in the pit of my stomach.
Here goes nothing.
"I'm going to say this is your fault," I say. I don't give him time to think on it or react as I step as close to him as I can and thrust my knee into his crotch. He buckles, knees dropping to the floor, shoulders tensing up to his ears and eyes squeezing shut, a sound he'd never admit to slipping past his locked jaw.
I don't waste time, rushing around him and out of the tent. Kylie stands near the firepit, open-mouthed and something between mirth and amusement shining in her eyes. She giggles as I grip her wrist, pulling her along behind me.
"Scarlett!"
"Next time, I'll be gentle!" I throw a wink over my shoulder, at the grown man face down in the dirt. He just groans after me, and I keep Kylie running until we reach a wooden cross sticking out of the ground.
I don't know how to get to the city from the farmhouse. Neither does Kylie. The only plausible reason Alexander had to go with me was both the fact he knows the way there, and he'll be able to smell any danger on the way.
He was outvoted and forced to give us directions.
We have two landmarks to find. The first, the grave of Alexander's pet bird that died when he was six. Once there, we veer left until we reach the stump of a tree. Alexander's grandparents engraved it with their initials when they were first married.
