Chapter 36 CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Scarlett’s POV
When classes were finally over, I walked back to my dorm with my head spinning. I was obsessively going over everything Skye had said so much that my head started to ache in addition to my midsection. I just wanted to lie down and let the painkillers do their work.
In the distance, I spotted a figure standing in front of my room. It was Stan. I slowed down, wondering what on earth he was doing there. He wasn’t just waiting, he was leaning against the doorframe, talking to someone inside.
I lightened my steps, creeping closer, and my jaw nearly hit the floor. I heard a sound I never thought I’d hear in this building, the sound of Rachael laughing.
That girl usually acts like smiling is a crime and laughing is a death sentence. Whatever Stan was saying must have been hilarious. When did this even start? I cleared my throat as I came up behind him, and they both froze.
I looked between the two of them, my eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Is someone willing to tell me what’s happening here?"
Rachael’s face instantly smoothed back into its usual look of cold indifference. "It’s nothing," she said, waving a hand at Stan. "Go away, Stan. You’re annoying."
Stan didn't seem to mind the brush-off. He just grinned and turned to me. "How have you been, Scarlett?"
"I'm okay," I said, still trying to process the scene. I looked at him, remembering the cafeteria incident. "Hey, Stan? Why did you stand up for me the other day? You know, when Jax was being mean to me?"
Stan quirked his bushy eyebrows and shrugged. "You stood up for me first. In front of Blue, no less. Nobody has ever done that for me here. Usually, people just look the other way." He paused, his grin widening. "Also, I have this grand, awed fear of Blue. I don't mind helping his girl if it keeps me on his good side."
I felt the heat rush to my cheeks instantly. "Don't call me his girl."
"What are you then?" Stan asked, looking genuinely curious.
"Whatever," I muttered, feeling flustered. I waved my hand at him. "Go on, shoo. I need to talk to my roommate."
Stan chuckled and walked off down the hall. I stepped into the room and closed the door, eyeing Rachael as I went about my after-class routine. She was tossing her bag on the desk and ignoring me completely.
"Are you really not going to talk to me about that?" I asked.
Rachael didn't even look up. "About what?"
"You don't have to be so wary of your emotions, Rachael. Do you actually like Stan?"
"No," she said. It was a bit too harsh, a bit too fast.
I smiled to myself knowingly, "Okay, okay. I’ll drop it."
I lay down on my bed, staring at the ceiling. My mind went back to Skye and the Saturday visit. What was the best course of action? If I told Blue, would he think I was conspiring against him to save myself? If I didn't tell him, was I letting him walk into a trap?
A brisk knock at the door interrupted my thoughts. I opened it to find Tanner, who must be Blue’s favorite messenger, standing there with his hands in his pockets.
"Blue wants you in his room," he said without any preamble. "Now."
Curt much? I thought, but I didn't say it. I didn't want to give Tanner any reason to report back that I was being difficult. "I'll be there."
I took a minute to fix my hair and adjust my sweater, then followed Tanner through the winding halls. When we arrived at the heavy wooden door, he just jerked his head toward it, signaling for me to go inside.
I pushed the door open and stepped in. The room was dim, the evening light blocked out by heavy, drawn curtains. I squinted, my eyes struggling to adjust to the shadows. I could see a large shape lying relaxed on the bed.
"Blue?" I whispered. "Why is it so dark in here?"
He didn't say anything. Instead, I heard the quiet flick of a switch. The bedside lamp and the overhead light flared to life, and I blinked rapidly against the sudden brightness.
Blue was lying back against the pillows, shirtless. His trousers were riding dangerously low on his hips, revealing the yummy lines of his muscles and the dark ink of his tattoos. They cover his entire arms, neck and upper chest. Surprisingly, there was only one on his abdomen. I wanted to lick it.
I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly very dry. He was distractingly attractive, and he seemed to know it.
"You called for me?" I asked, finally finding my voice.
"Eat," he said, gesturing toward his desk.
I noticed then that the small table was covered with plates. There was a stack of sandwiches, some sliced fruit, and what looked like pasta. My stomach gave a loud, treacherous growl in response. I realized I hadn't eaten lunch today.
"Did you find out I didn't eat?" I asked, walking over to the table.
Blue didn't answer. He just watched me with those intense, grey eyes. I sat down and started to eat. The food was incredible compared to the bland stuff they served in the mess hall.
"Is it good?" he asked after a few minutes.
I nodded, my mouth full of a turkey sandwich. I looked at him over the edge of the plate. He seemed even moodier than usual today. There was a tension in his shoulders that wasn't normally there. Was he worried about something?
I thought about what Skye had told me in the library. His father is coming.
Who even was his father? I had heard rumors since I arrived at Bellamy, that he was a man with terrifying connections, someone who moved mountains with a single phone call. But what was he coming to do here? Was he coming for some sort of inspection, or was he coming for Blue?
I looked at Blue, who was staring at the ceiling, his expression unreadable. I wanted to ask him. I wanted to tell him that Skye was trying to recruit me to snitch on him. But Skye’s warning echoed in my head: He won't hesitate to kill you if he finds out.
Was he really a cold-blooded killer? Could the man who had stayed with me in a hospital really be the same person who killed his own mother? It felt like two different people.
I took a slow sip of water, my heart racing. I needed to know the truth, but in this place, the truth was usually the most dangerous thing you could own.
"Blue?" I said softly.
He turned his head toward me, his gaze heavy. "What, Red?"