Chapter 49 CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
Blue's POV
I finished my bowl and drank half a bottle of water, leaning back against the cushions. "Alright," I said without preamble. "My father is Victor Linden. He’s in a cohort with Miller, the principal, to use this institute as a hub for illegal transportation and storage of goods. High-end hardware, mostly."
Scarlett’s mouth formed a small 'O' shape.
"I didn't actually do anything to end up here," I continued, watching her reaction closely. "I wasn't sentenced. My father sent me here to watch over the business while I 'finished' my education. It's a front."
She sat back, absorbing the information. "So... when will you leave Bellamy? You can't stay here forever, can you?"
"Good question, Red," I said, looking at the door. "The plan was always for me to leave when my father says so but things just got a bit more complicated."
I could see the shadow of worry crossing Scarlett’s face the moment I mentioned leaving. She was probably terrified that I’d just vanish one day, leaving her alone in this prison while I moved on to the next phase of my father’s plan. I wanted to reach out and tell her it wouldn’t happen, but I didn't. I didn't have the ability to make a promise like that but I'll make sure I find a way to get her released soon.
"Just try as much as possible to avoid Derek," I said instead, my voice regaining its hard edge. "He’s sporadically dangerous. He doesn't need a reason to hurt people, he just needs to be bored."
Scarlett nodded slowly, her brow furrowing. "He and Skye would fit well together, then," she muttered.
I actually felt a dark flicker of amusement at that. "Probably."
Skye was the type to latch onto whoever looked powerful enough to offer her a shield or a step up the social ladder. Since I’d been unresponsive to her pathetic attempts in the past, she’d naturally gravitate toward my cousin. Derek would love that. He enjoyed having people flock around him.
"Okay," Scarlett said, standing up and dusting some food particles off her lap. "I should go. I need to get some homework done before the new week starts."
I just nodded. I didn't say anything to stop her, even though the room already felt colder just watching her move toward the door. She gave me a small wave and slipped out, the door shutting behind her.
I stayed on the sofa for a long time, staring at the empty space where she’d been. Then, I stood up and grabbed a fresh canvas from my storage closet. It hadn't been easy getting high-quality supplies into Bellamy but I got them anyway.
I glanced toward the corner of the room where my old paintings were stacked, face-to-wall. If anyone looked at those, they’d conclude the artist was psychologically disturbed. They were all questionable lines, dark voids, and expressions of silent screaming. But my recent work was different. The colors were warmer. The lines were softer. They suggested feelings of affection that I wasn't even ready to admit to myself yet.
I set the canvas on the easel and began to sketch. I wanted to capture her exactly as she looked earlier, with the sunlight hitting those vibrant curls. I worked in total silence, setting the tone and making sure the angles were perfect.
I worked until well into the night, the clock on the wall ticking toward the hour when even the night guards started to doze off. My body felt restless so I grabbed my jacket and decided to go for a run.
The courtyard was big enough to do laps, and the chilly night air was exactly what I needed to clear my head. I’d finished two laps, the burn already starting to feel good when I caught movement in the shadows of the hallway leading toward the girls' wing.
I paused, pressing myself into the darkness behind a thick oak tree. It was long past lights-out, and the only illumination came from the yellow glow of the outside security lights.
A man was backing someone up against the stone wall. He was tall, his posture intimidating. He had the person pinned in the corner, and even from this distance, I could tell it was a girl based on her build.
Normally, I would have looked the other way. That was the sad reality of Bellamy—people got cornered, and people got hurt. It was better to mind your own business. But as I watched, I could almost hear Scarlett’s voice in my head, scolding me for being heartless.
I went to drop my towel and head over to break it up, but then the girl shifted. The security light caught a flash of vibrant, fiery red hair.
My blood turned to ice.
Scarlett?
What the hell was she doing out this late? She was supposed to be in her room, doing whatever she does by the time. She was standing her ground, her chin tilted up defiantly, but it didn't look like she was any match for the man looming over her.
I felt something dark unfurl in my chest and a cloud of rage settled over my mind.
Honestly, it was perfect. I’d been wanting to fuck someone up all day. Scarlett had been my only buffer, the only thing keeping me cool. Now that someone had dared to bother her, I had every excuse to let the monster out.
I started toward them, my steps silent on the grass, my hands curling into fists. I was going to break whatever bones he used to touch her.
Then, the man turned his head slightly. The light hit his side profile, and I recognized the round glasses and the awkward, ill-fitting jacket.
It was Mason. One of my father’s plants.
I nearly screamed in frustration. If it had been a regular guard, I could have ended him right there. But Mason was involved with my father. Killing him or even putting him in the infirmary would put me back in the line of my father's attention.
I slowed my pace, forcing the blind rage back into a cold simmer. I needed to find out exactly what was going on before I made a move. If he was threatening her, I’d find a way to make him pay that wouldn't lead back to me.
I stepped out of the shadows and into the light, my voice cutting through the night like a blade.
"Mr. Mason," I said, my tone deathly calm. "I didn't realize Religious Studies required one-on-one sessions in the dark."
Both of them jumped. Scarlett looked at me, her eyes wide with a mix of terror and relief. Mason slowly turned around, pushing his glasses up his nose, a greasy smile spreading across his face.
"Ah, Blue," Mason said. "Just the man I wanted to see."
I looked at Scarlett, then back at him. I decided then and there that Mason was definitely going to taste my punches. It was just a matter of when.