Page 103 of Underground Prince

The limo swayed right, pulling to a stop in front of a row of tenement buildings, stone houses cemented together by their flanks, their cast-iron oval windows layered with electric-fused light.

Brodie stepped out, wandering close to the residences and lighting a cigarette, adding a speck of flame to the quiet street.

“I’m sorry,” Theo said.

He seemed broken, the way his body hunched into the corner, his elbows on his thighs and his hands hanging in between. His head drooped.

All I could do was stare sadly back.

But then his face morphed, crumpled into one of confusion. “How is it that after everything, you’re not afraid of me?”

“I told you,” I said after a moment, “It takes a lot—”

“Don’t bullshit me. Not now.”

I said, unexpectedly soft with sincerity, “I wouldn’t, Theo. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“That’s the problem, because everything points to deception. No one—no one, has ever left Trace’s sights unscathed, but here you sit, up against me. Trapped in here with me, surrounded by locked doors and tinted windows. Yeah, Scarlet, locked doors. You didn’t realize that, did you?”

My hand had automatically gone to the lever of the door. It didn’t give. Calmly, I said, “You’re trying to scare me right now.”

“Damn right I am.” He was on me so fast that I almost cried out. Those chips of gold in his eyes glimmered. “You do not want to be here. You understand?”

I notched my chin up. “No.”

“Damn it!” He punched the leather seat between us and I winced. “What is the matter with you? What keeps you here?” He searched my eyes, for a moment pleading before smoldering to angry. “I am no good. My family’s worse. So the longer you stay, the more you convince me you’re with the Feds.”

I inhaled, but said levelly, “I expected that to come from your brother, but not from you.”

“Even now,” he said, “You face me like it’s nothing. Talk to me like all we’re doing is waiting for a prom after-party.”

“So I don’t scare easy. So I’m drawn to sticky situations and like to test myself and see if I can make it out. That doesn’t mean I’m a cop.”

“Doesn’t it? These aren’t normal responses. Girls I’ve had—most have run. A knife, a gun, simply seeing it lying on a table is enough to do them in, never mind my father when he gets angry. But you, Scarlet. You’re none of the above. Do you do all this to see if you’ll survive?”

“Where’s Brodie?” I asked.

“He’s been told to wait for my signal.”

I sat back, hands clasped in my lap.

“Doesn’t that scare you? Being surrounded by guys on our payroll? Who will do anything I ask? He could kill you, on my mark. He’d help me bury your body and make it so no one would ever get even a scrap of your DNA. You’d never be found.”

“Stop it.”

“Your parents would be left wondering. And you? You would become a lost soul, if you believe in that sort of shit.”

“Stop.”

“And I could do it all with the blessing of my family. Even my mother. Does that sound like the people you want to hang around?”

“This isn’t you!” I screamed at him. “You can spew all the trash you want but you’d never—”

“Don’t you dare presume to know me—”

“You talk tough, you act strong, you sit here and think you’re threatening when I know you’re sick inside. You hate every moment of getting into my face.”

“I hate every moment of being with you!” he roared back.

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