Scars (The Triad 1) - Page 17

SCARLET

Should I be freaking out right now? I just fucking shot and killed someone.

I was sitting at the table throwing back drinks as quickly as they could pour them. The entire club had emptied out except for the bar staff and the backup Elliot had called for. They all stayed downstairs to give us our privacy while the bartender just left us multiple bottles of various liquors to share between us and four glasses. The extra guys had cleaned up the body, and even though there had been exploded brain matter there thirty minutes ago, you wouldn’t even know.

I didn’t think I had ever felt so calm in my life. I had been in plenty of fights. And plenty of those had involved guns in my face or knives at my throat. But I had never killed a person before. I didn’t know what had come over me. I was turned on, absolutely out of my mind with lust, watching them beat the shit out of those guys just because they had disrespected me. I could still feel the evidence of that lust on my inner thighs. A downside to not wearing any panties.

And when Sebastian looked at me and gave me the choice, I felt liberated. My entire life had been dictated by men in charge. The heads of the family. Even the boys that were younger than me had more of a say over my life until I turned twenty-one. And really, even then I wouldn’t have been able to actually call the shots. They would’ve found a way to put a guy over my head somewhere, regardless if I was my father’s only child.

But the assholes that sat across from me, laughing and swapping stories of their first kills, they had given me power. I looked down at Seb’s hand resting possessively on my thigh, following the tattooed dotted lines that went all the way to the tips of his fingers. I wondered if I could fit in with them. My family didn’t want me alive anyway. So what if they kept me? It would certainly be a way to keep me out of whatever business my family didn’t want me a part of. It would be the end of my hiding and running. I could be relatively safe. I could be in one place. I could have a home.

I took a deep breath and threw back another shot. The glass rattled on the table as I sat it down.

“Keep me.”

Three pairs of eyes turned towards me as they all shut up at the same time.

“Princess, we already—” Sebastian started, but Tristan held up his hand to stop him.

“I know what you already decided.” Tristan quirked his eyebrow. “I know you decided to give me over to them for a ransom, but hear me out, okay?”

Elliot groaned, but Tristan nodded, and I leaned forward, my forearms propping me up slightly on the table.

“I wouldn’t be some little thing you needed to protect. I know how to fight. I was trained from a young age how to shoot a gun and use a knife. My hand-to-hand combat might be a little rusty, but I can work on that. Let me earn your trust. Give me a job so I can earn my keep. I’m really smart with computers. Like, really fucking smart. Let me help you guys out in some way. Let me contribute.”

“And what about your family?” Tristan interrupted.

I sighed. “They don’t want me alive anyway. At least some of them didn’t. I don’t know why, but they obviously don’t want me around. So the only reason they would pay you a ransom would be so that they could kill me themselves. But maybe you could make a deal. Tell them you guys will keep me and that you will keep me out of their way. And as payment for that, they can stay the fuck out of your territory and stop making moves over here.”

Sebastian leaned back in his chair and smiled over his glass. I could feel Elliot stewing from where he was, but I knew I’d made some good points. I could see it written all over Tristan’s face that he agreed with me. He played with the rings on his fingers for a moment before meeting my eyes.

“Okay,” Tristan said and shrugged. My eyes must’ve become saucers. I’d expected him to make that much harder.

“Okay?”

He smiled, and Seb squeezed my thigh. I looked around at all three of them. I stood up and shoved my hand out towards Tristan. I was impressed with myself when I saw it wasn’t shaking.

“Shake on it,” I said. “Shake my hand and tell me you will keep me and won’t send me back there. It would be signing my death warrant, and I really, really don’t feel like dying.” My voice may have wavered a bit at the end, but honestly, whose wouldn’t? I was trying to save my life.

“And you don’t think staying with us is signing a different type of death warrant?” Elliot chimed in.

“If we keep you, claim you as ours, people on our payroll will leave you alone, but you’ll have a different type of target on your back.” Seb’s hand had fallen from my thigh when I stood up, but it found the crook of my arm while he spoke, like he was trying to make sure I was listening.

“We’ve never claimed a girl as ours before,” Tristan said, leaning in. I dropped my hand and sighed. “We’ve shared plenty, but we’ve never offered anyone our protection.”

“I’m not asking for protection,” I said, ignoring the ugly jealousy that roared through my veins at the mention of them sharing someone else. Emily’s pretty face flashed in front of my eyes. “I’m asking to be useful. I’m asking to be a part of something that might actually want me instead of being shipped off to a family that doesn’t.”

“Well, I don’t want you.”

I turned towards Elliot and smiled. “Your hard-on when I shot Ty tells a different story, Grumpy.”

“Just because I want to fuck you doesn’t mean I want to keep you around. You’re a whole lot of trouble in a tiny package.”

“Hey,” Seb said towards Elliot as he pulled me down onto his lap, right onto the massive erection he was sporting. “Don’t talk to our girl like that. She’s part of the fucked-up family now.” He pushed my hair off my shoulder and planted a sweet kiss on my neck.

“Not until we fucking shake on it,” I said, shoving my hand towards Tristan again. “Shake on it and promise me you won’t send me back there.”

Tristan laughed and grabbed my hand. “Fine, poppet. Done deal. You’re ours now.” A shiver skirted its way down my spine at the look in his eyes.

“Now that that’s done, can we please go get some food? I’m starving,” Sebastian groaned.

“Oh, yes please. I would love some chips and gravy to soak up this alcohol.”

Tristan stood up, buttoning his jacket closed as he took one last shot.

“We’ve probably been sitting here too long anyway. If they’re going to retaliate, they know where we are. So let’s get out of here, get some food, and go back to Wheaton.” I was absolutely starving. I hadn’t eaten anything since lunch, and if I didn’t get something in my stomach soon, it was going to empty out all the liquor I had just drank.

We made our way out of the club, the backups following us out the door. Instead of going in the direction of the car, they started walking down towards the group of food trucks in the town centre. The smell was fucking fantastic as we made our way there. There were a few groups of friends in various lines, laughing and chatting away with each other, the alcohol obviously making them numb to the cold.

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