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...
Half of me is a Hopeless romantic. The other half is An arsehole.
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Chapter Thirty-Six "What's the Cure for Awkwardness?"
Scarlett's POV:
Alexander is pacing between the tents when we get back, gnawing on his fingernails and head hung low. He's heard us coming for the past twenty minutes, but he looks surprised at the palpable tension between Kylie and me. His cautious eyes look me up and down before flicking between us like he's waiting for one of us to explode.
"He knew everything," I don't look at Kylie, straightening my back and squaring my shoulders. "He knew what I was, that Citadel existed and all about Governor Tolkien. There's a search out for you and I."
I know Alexander doesn't miss Kylie's exclusion, because it's all I can think about. It's the lycanthrope and elemental Lyon wants; capturing Kylie means nothing to him.
"And what did you do about it?" Alexander gives me a small nod; one I would've missed if I wasn't looking for it. He knows exactly what I did, and for some reason, his lack of judgment makes me feel better. Hell, he's probably done worse for a lot less.
This game of kill or be killed is never ending, and now that I know how to play, something uncomfortable settles in the pit of my stomach.
"She buried him alive," Kylie answers, smiling wryly. A smile that says she knows exactly what Alexander's opinion on the matter will be. And she's right. Alexander's raised brow and twitch of the lips is anything but disapproving.
"That one's new," he manages to keep his face blank when he turns to me, sadistic humour hidden under the slowly darkening sky.
"I thought I'd spice it up a little."
At Kylie's choked swallow, I shut up and place the bag of explosives on the ground. It's a heavy silence that falls over us, as if we don't know what to say, and even if we did, it would only make everything worse.
Until Alexander pipes up again, "I've thought of a way into the prison. Underground. We won't be seen, and they won't think to look there, because most of them don't know about it."
"Underground? Like, there's a secret underground tunnel?" I frown.
"Yes, but it's quite small and doesn't even reach passed the oval. You'd have to create a path to it, Scarlett. But the actual tunnel leads into the garage, only Tolkien and Quinn know about it. It's a way for them to escape without anyone else knowing. They won't tell a soul it exists."
Smart or cowardly? A secret tunnel only you know about; self-preservation seems to be an ongoing theme with those two. It's them survive and only them, damn the rest.
