Chapter 7

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Roman

     Harris was a fucking dead man. None of this was supposed to happen. Sawyer wasn't supposed to be stuck in the line of fire. She wasn't supposed to be touched by this life. She wasn't supposed to end up like Amelia. She wouldn't. I'd set the world ablaze, before I'd let anyone hurt her.

     Leaving Seattle was supposed to save her life, but in doing so, I only left her vulnerable to Hariss's ambush. Fucking rookie mistake. Now, for a cherry on top, I have her stored in my childhood bedroom like a damn prisoner. The only positive about this entire situation is the hatred she will have for me once she's released. She'll hate me so much that she will quit and go back to the safety of her small town. Never to see me again. But if that's what I want, why do I feel like absolute shit about it?

     "Fuck!" I throw the file of potential people who are doing Harris's bidding, across my office, papers flying in every direction. The way she looked at me that night at Golden Palace, Fitzpatrick's hands all over her, like I was some kind of hero from those fairytales she was fed from the day she was born. That was the first time anyone had ever looked at me in that way. From that moment on, even though my words said otherwise, I worked for that look. Never have I ever been so desperate to have someone look at me a certain way, until I met her. But, now I'm pretty sure she'll never look at me that way again. Anger, fear, hatred; all of which I was met with in those big hazel eyes when I opened that janitor's closet. Nothing like that look of gratitude.

     I thought maybe she just needed time to collect herself. After a week with Harris, I'd lose my mind too. But, after she woke, that look was still in her eyes. I'd never get her back. Maybe there are only two ways this will have to end, her hating me or her death. Without question, I'd prefer her to hate me as long as she lives, rather than her laying at the bottom of a ditch.

     Spiraling down the rabbit hole, I bring my hands to my face like that's gonna silence the thoughts. "Well, at least you're not an evil stepmother, keeping her step daughter in the tower. Because I was kinda expecting an evil laugh and a poison apple sitting on your desk." Scarlette leans against the door frame with her arms across her chest, a defensive stance. She spoke few words, but I can hear the disappointment that ties with them. A tone that I heard time and time again from the rest of my family, but never her. We understood one another in a way no one else in our family could. She's my father's bastard, an outcast at birth. I'm the son that my father wishes he never had. An embarrassment. We have that in common. That's why her words tear through me in a way only hers could.

     "Don't start with me. You know that I don't want to do this to her, but what other choice do I have? Leave her out there on her own and have her be taken again? Or worse? You know better than I do, the second she leaves this place, she'll be used as a weapon against me." My hands are balled into fists, thinking of everything that could possibly go wrong. I hated the unknown. If I knew where Hariss was and had my hands around his throat, I'd feel a lot more comfortable with the world available to Sawyer, beyond this house.

     She sighs, dropping her arms along with her defense, before entering my office and closing the door behind her. This offers a small amount of privacy that the rest of the house doesn't. "What are you gonna do, Ro? She can't stay up there forever."

     "Don't you think I know that? The plan is to find Harris or his colleagues. As soon as I have them, she will be free to do as she pleases. Hopefully, that involves going back to Maywood. Far from this bullshit."

     "And what if you don't find Harris? That man is a cockroach. There is no getting rid of him." Determined to meet my wandering eyes, she sits across the desk from me. "Do you expect her to sit in your room and play damsel in distress, until you get your hands on him? And what if you never do?"

     For the first time since she entered my office, I met her eyes. "I'll set the entire world on fire until he comes running out, if that means I can keep her safe. I don't care how many people have to die for her to be safe. Do you not understand, Scar? I will do anything to keep her alive. Anything."

     "She's not Amelia, Ro." Reaching across the desk, she takes my hands in hers, in the way she had seen my mother do so many times when we were children. "She's a lot stronger than she looks."

     "She's nothing like Amelia, but that doesn't mean that she's some super human either. This world, this lifestyle, destroys people. It doesn't change us for the better. Eventually, it will kill us all in one way or another. I'll make sure that doesn't happen to her."

     "By what? Making the decision for her? Isolating yourself and pushing her away again? Because, I have some news for you, that didn't work last time. If I remember correctly, it put her in more danger."

     "Fuck, Scar." There aren't many times when I find myself frustrated with my little sister, but this was one of those few times that I was. "What the hell do you think I should do then? If it was Elena in danger, what would you do?!" The second I spoke those words, I regretted them instantly. Not exactly the way I would have liked my sister to find out that I knew about her secret. I release a heavy sigh, using the palms of my hands to rub at my eyes. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

     "You knew?" Hearing the fear and anger in her voice is like a punch to the gut.

     "I did, but-"

     A shout interrupts our conversation, bringing both of us to our feet. Elijah. One after the other, we race to the door and find that our mother is holding Sawyer by the shoulders. Elijah stands at the staircase, holding his left eye. Before I can inquire about what happened, my mother is inviting Sawyer to dinner. 






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