Chapter 64 CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
Scarlett’s POV
I woke up buried in a familiar bed, the sheets smelling of that distinct, expensive perfume scent. I curled deeper into the pillows, a small sigh escaping my lips. For a moment, I didn't care about the world outside. I was back where I felt most safe.
I could hear the soft sounds of someone moving around the room—the clink of a glass, the rustle of fabric. Then, the bed dipped under a heavy weight. I felt a cold, damp cloth wiping gently over my forehead, then moving down my cheeks and over my arms.
Oh yeah. The vent mission. I must have been covered in layers of dust and that horrible chemical residue.
I didn't open my eyes, though. I just lay there, soaking in the rare pampering. It felt too good to ruin by acknowledging I was conscious. I shifted slightly, tilting my head and scratching at my scalp to signal that my hair felt itchy and uncomfortable. I heard a small huff—was that a laugh?—and then more movement. A hand began sweeping my hair upward, fingers gently detangling the strands before a brush started moving through it with surprising care.
I was almost tempted to peek just to be absolutely sure this was really Blue. The thought of him, with his tattooed arms and heavy scowl, delicately brushing my hair was almost too much to wrap my head around. This was so nice.
"I know you are awake, Scarlett."
His voice was a low rumble right next to my ear. My face heated up instantly. I sat up so fast I almost knocked the brush out of his hand. I snatched it away from him, my heart thumping against my ribs, and started brushing the rest of my hair myself to hide my blush.
I looked down at the brush in my hand, noticing the soft bristles and the feminine design. Why did he have a female hairbrush in his room? A million questions flashed through my mind like did he have other girls here? But I decided not to ask. Some things were better left a mystery for now.
He didn't say anything about my sudden bolt to consciousness. He just passed me a glass of water. I took it and drank the whole thing in one go, my throat still feeling a bit scratchy from the repellent. He collected the empty cup and set it on the nightstand.
"What happened where you went?" he asked. His grey eyes were fixed on mine, intense and unblinking.
Flashbacks of the conversation I’d overheard hit me. The way Mr. Miller and Mr. Linden had spoken about me like I was just a piece of trash to be discarded... it made my stomach churn. Part of me thought it might be better not to tell Blue because I didn't want him to carry more weight but if I didn't tell him, who else could I talk to? I felt like I might burst if I kept it inside. Besides, he needed to know what his father was up to.
"Promise me you won't be mad," I whispered, clutching the blanket.
"I am already getting mad," Blue said, his jaw tightening.
I pursed my lips and gave him a look. He let out a sharp breath through his nose. "Alright. I promise."
"I went to the principal’s quarters," I confessed, bracing myself for the explosion.
Blue didn't say a word, but the silence was worse. He gave me a look that suggested he was seriously considering strangling me right there on the spot.
I raised my hands in defense. "You promised! And also, I reasoned that it wasn't an administrative area! It's where he lives."
"Oh, really?" Blue’s voice was dangerously low. "What about a principal’s quarters doesn't scream 'administrative' to you, Red?"
"Well, I went hoping to see what I could find out," I hurried on, trying to steer the conversation away from my poor decision-making. "And he was on the phone with someone."
I paused, looking him dead in the eye. "Your father."
Blue didn't even flinch. He didn't look surprised at all. He just leaned back slightly. "Did you hear what they were saying?"
"Yes. They were talking about me. They said that..." My voice cut off, the words sticking in my throat. I swallowed hard and forced myself to continue. "They said that if you don't stop your folly, he would make me go to an actual jail.”
Blue’s frown deepened, and he looked away toward the corner of the room.
"Don't worry about it," he said, but I was already well past the point of worrying.
"How can I not worry?" I asked, my voice rising. "I haven't even proven that my stepfather's death was an accident. If I get thrown into a real prison on some trumped-up charges, my life is effectively over. I'll never get out."
Blue didn't answer that. Instead, he asked, "What about the smell of repellent you had on you when you came out?"
"The principal heard the vent grate shift," I explained, shivering at the memory. "He must have thought I was a rat or some kind of pest, so he threw a canister of repellent in there. It was horrible. I couldn't breathe."
Blue nodded slowly, his expression unreadable. Then, he reached out and took both of my hands in his. His palms were warm and calloused, and he held them firmly.
"You are shaking, Red," he said softly. "Don't be scared. This is what life is. Taking risks to achieve what you want. You might never have had to be in these kinds of situations before, but you are now. You have to get tougher."
I sniffled, looking down at our joined hands. His strength seemed to seep into me, grounding me. "Okay," I mumbled.
"Good," Blue said, his grip tightening just a fraction. "Because you are going back in the vents tomorrow."
My head snapped up. "What??"
"You heard me," he said, his face a mask of determination.
I stared at him, my mouth agape. I wanted to argue, to tell him he was crazy, but the look in his eyes told me there was no room for debate.