Interrupting Ryan and Christine’s bickering, I blurt out, “I’ll do it. I’ll do it. Whatever you signed me up for, I’ll do it.”
They both go quiet on the line for a few beats before Ryan’s voice gentles.
“Did something happen, Scar? Because these guys have never fazed you before, and now ... Well, now you sound—”
“Scared?” I ask. “Yeah, when I think about what the hell could happen if these people are actually dangerous and not just asshole keyboard warriors, it makes me not want to leave this building ever again. But I’m not going to let them take my city or my life from me. I’ll learn whatever I need to learn to make sure that doesn’t happen. When do I start?”
Chris doesn’t sound triumphant like I expected. More relieved. “I had Amy clear your calendar from four to six Friday. I’ll text you the address. Your instructor has a bit of an ... unorthodox reputation, but I didn’t want to send you to a celebrity trainer. You need someone who knows how to maim, and he’s the best I could find. If you like him and the lessons, he’s agreed to see you up to twice per week for the foreseeable future. None of the other appointments will be on Friday, but that’s the only time he had this week, because he doesn’t normally train people who aren’t fighters.”
Oh Lord.My heart rate picks up at the wordfighters. I think of the videos I’ve been watching of Gabriel Legend in a ring or a cage and the symphony of violence he unleashes.Too bad he can’t train me.
Wait. What?
I push the thought from my head immediately, as if I’m afraid Christine and Ryan can read my mind.What were we talking about again?Oh, right. The training.
“I’ll let you know if it’s a good fit. If it is, I’ll keep going. If not, I’ll find someone else. Either way, I’m doing this.” I pick up the conversation, and thankfully, neither of them notices my delayed reply.
Both the siblings cheer on the phone before we move on, but my mind is only half on the call for the remaining ninety minutes it takes.
By the time we hang up, I need at least two more cups of coffee to keep me moving. Thankfully, I have just enough time to do that and wash my hair before Kelsey knocks.
Twelve
Scarlett
“Did you sleep at all last night? Because you looktired.”
“Thanks, Kels. I appreciate that,” I tell her as I squeeze the water out of my hair.
“You know what I mean. You look like something’s on your mind.” She pauses in the middle of unloading her kit on my bathroom counter. “Orsomeone.”
Rosy heat blooms on my chest and streaks up my neck as thesomeoneshe’s referring to comes to mind again.
How could I possibly think it wasluckyto be kidnapped by him?Is my life really that crazy that there’s a hierarchy of people I’d prefer to be kidnapped by?
The answer to that question is obvious.Yes. Yes, it is.
Kelsey’s mouth drops open. “Oh my God. You’re blushing. Like,red.”
I don’t even bother to deny it. “Did you find out anything helpful? Because I could really use anything you’ve got to pull off this miracle.” She shakes her head, and for a moment, disappointment creeps in. “Nothing at all?”
“I didn’t say that,” she says, unwinding the cord to the blow-dryer. “But I haven’t decided if I want to tell you yet. Let me get you dry and then we’ll talk. Because this isn’t the type of stuff I want to be yelling over the dryer, if you know what I mean.”
Disappointment is edged aside by apprehension, and it feels like it takes forever for my hair to dry. As soon as she turns off the dryer, I’m on her.
“You’ve got to give me something. I’m going crazy here.”
“Legend, the club, is definitely sinking faster than a boat with a lead bottom. I asked a friend who’s a promoter for all the hottest places in the city, and he said that he won’t even take their money to promote it because it’s a lost cause. The only people who are there lately are lurkers or women trying to get a look at Legend himself, because he almost never makes an appearance.”
My mirrored reflection frowns. “Then who runs the club if he’s never there?”
“Oh, he’s there, all right, at least from what I’m told. But he watches from some two-way-mirrored office and doesn’t come out to mix and mingle with the crowd. My promoter buddy even said he’s never met him. His contacts were Marcus Quinterro and his sister Zoe.”
“What do we know about them?” I ask, making a mental note of their names.
“Not much. They’re Puerto Rican. Marcus Quinterro is supposed to be hot as hell, though. I wouldn’t mind finding out more about him,” she says, grabbing the flat iron.
“I didn’t meet him, so you’re on your own there,” I tell her and immediately freeze. But Kelsey already caught my slip and waves the flat iron in the air.