Grievous (Scarlet Scars #2)(28)

Seven slides into a chair nearby and clears his throat. “Love is blinding.”

“Love is blinding,” I say, repeating his sappy ass proverb shit. “And what, Three loves pussy, so it excuses his behavior?”

“Doesn’t excuse it, just explains it,” Seven says. “Declan’s a sucker for a woman in stilettos. He doesn’t think straight where they’re concerned. We’re all knocked off-kilter eventually, and usually what does it is a woman. That’s how I ended up married so long ago. Love, it makes us forget ourselves sometimes.”

“I’ll fucking drink to that,” Four says, raising up a bottle of rum.

“Goddamn women,” Five says, raising his own bottle. “They’re cyanide to the senses.”

Shaking my head, I look around at these idiots toasting, my gaze stalling at the doorway, seeing Scarlet lurking.

“How about you, Scarlet?” I ask as the guys take sips, clinking their bottles together. “You gonna drink to pussy-blindness, too?”

She pushes away from the doorframe, strolling into the room. “Love is a terrible excuse. It’s dangerous to lose yourself in someone else.”

“Ah, that I’ll drink to,” I say as she slides in front of me, sitting down on the coffee table, her knees touching mine. Five smacks my arm at those words, passing me a bottle of rum, and I take a swig before offering it to Scarlet.

She stares at it for a second before snatching it from my hand, taking a big swallow, enough to make her grimace.

She seems nervous, looking around at the guys... not worried so much as maybe feeling vulnerable. I offer her the joint, which she happily takes, waving her off when she tries to give it back.

“Keep it,” I say, retrieving another one from my tin and lighting it. “I’ve got more.”

I kick my feet up, planting them on each side of her on the coffee table, penning her in between my legs. The guys are laughing, joking around, bullshitting, acting like their usual selves, which helps Scarlet relax a bit.

Seems she thought they’d treat her differently, but they won’t. They’re not like that. I wouldn’t let them in my house, around my brother, if I thought they might be the backstabbing variety. They’d seen no more than thirty seconds of the DVD, and it had gotten every single one of them furious beyond words, tense and on edge and ready to kill someone for it.

It doesn’t take long before smoke fills the room, my eyes bloodshot, burning, as my muscles tingle. I feel like I’m floating, sky fucking high, a sense of euphoria settling into my chest.

I feel no pain.

It’s nice not having a jackhammer going off in my head for once.

Doesn’t last long, though.

Headlights flash as a car pulls into the driveway. Seven gets up to look, glancing out the window, saying, “Looks like Declan... and a woman.”

And a woman.

Eyes turn to me, awaiting my reaction, but I just sit here, not doing a damn thing yet. Three barrels his way on into the house, dragging a skinny little brunette along with him, red high heels clattering along the floor as she drags her feet. She doesn’t look happy to be here. Quite the opposite. He pulls her into the living room, shoving her in front of him. Her terrified gaze skitters around, settling on Scarlet, her dark eyes widening with recognition. Uh-oh.

Scarlet averts her gaze, turning her back to the girl, staring down at her hands as she picks at the chipped red polish on her fingernails.

“Fellas,” Three says casually, greeting everyone, his attention turning my way. “Boss.”

The guys mumble in response.

“Nice of you to join us,” I say, studying the woman. “I see you’ve brought a guest along.”

“Yeah, this is, uh... shit.” Three snaps his fingers, like he’s trying to remember, before giving up and nudging her. “Tell them who you are.”

“Alexis,” the girl says, her voice shaking.

“That’s it! Sexy Lexie...” Three grins, like he’s proud of himself for remembering that nickname. “Lexie works down at Limerence. I ended up in a basement because of her.”

“I’m sorry,” she says right away, looking back at him. “I told you, I—”

“You didn’t have a choice,” Three says, cutting her off. “Yeah, I know, I heard you.”

“I didn’t want to do it,” she says defensively. “I swear I didn’t. I like you, Declan. You’ve always been so nice, but Mr. Aristov—”

“Is your boss,” Three says, again cutting her off before he looks at me, raising an eyebrow. “You hear that? She works for the Russian.”

“I heard,” I say.

“I don’t have a choice,” she whispers, eyes turning to me.

“We know,” Three says, putting his hand on her shoulder. “What Aristov says goes—no ifs, ands, or buts about it, huh? He tells you to fuck someone, you do it, no question. Get on your knees for him? You’ll do that, too, like a good little girl. He tells you to put something in somebody’s drink, to drug them, and you don’t hesitate, huh? You’ll do whatever he says. He makes the rules.”

The more Three talks, the more the woman looks like she wants to collapse... but she’s not the only one. Scarlet tenses, and before the last syllable is even from Three’s lips, her voice cuts in. “That’s enough.”