Page 46 of Bleeding Outside the Lines

“If you two are done,” Garrett clears his throat. “Rowan did some serious digging here. And Ruby,” he looks pointedly at her, “you’re gonna have to fill in some blanks.”

“Talk us through it, G,” I tell him, and Ruby and I gather behind him.

“Okay, so it looks like Rowan dug into Rawling’s background. She was recruited by your European chapter according to this docket here.”

“That I know. We have chapters all over the world. Rawlings came to us about five years ago now, I think.”

“September is five years, yeah. So anyway, I think we need to start from the beginning. The basics though are this, Hannah’s dad killed himself not long after Hannah was killed, and her mom remarried six months later. Her new beau adopted Sophie and from what I can gather from Rowan’s files he was a real fucking gem. They legally changed not only her last name, butalso her first name. So, Sophie Flemming became Francesca Juarez after this jack-off’s mother. How fucked up is that? Don’t answer that, let me finish. Dude was an asshole, as you can already tell.”

“Is there a picture of him?” I interrupt.

Garrett pulls up a picture, and it’s my turn to be sick. “That’s one of the suits.”

“You sure?” Garrett shoots me a pained look. “It’s been twelve years.”

“Their faces have been etched in my brain for every last one.”

“So, this cocksucker, he was a shithead. There are several reports of abuse, physical and sexual. But we all know money in the right hands will make all that go away. Except, her mom witnessed the last incident and blamed Francesca for making advances. Mommy dearest shipped her off to prep school the next day. Francesca was kicked out of prep school after prep school for organizing fighting rings until five years ago.”

“When she was recruited by the Reds,” Ruby finishes.

“Whatever the fuck that is,” Garrett flaps his hand in the air, feigning indifference.

“In short, we’re a league of assassins who recruit girls or women out of dangerous situations and train them to be contract killers.”

Garrett spins in the chair and levels Ember with eyes that might possibly seal his own fate.

“How old were you?”

“Eight.”

Garrett nods, eyes wide. “They’re supposed to protect us.”

They’re supposed to protect us, but they didn’t. Have we become what we are because of our parents? Or in spite of them? I know the answer, it’s neither. We became what we are because we didn’t have a choice. We became what we are to survive.And now, now, we thrive on the violence it takes to do so. It jumpstarts our hearts and pumps our blood through our veins.

“Fuck them,” I growl and look from G to Ruby and back again. I gesture to the three of us. “We survived. We fucking won.”

“Life is not a game, Cass.” Garrett whispers, looking at the screen again.

Ember meets my gaze, and I know without looking in a mirror that my smile matches hers. We both know life is a game, and we’re about to flip the fucking board.

thirty-two

I have never understoodwhat people mean when they say home is not a place. Until now. The house is stagnant when I enter, stale with routine. It feels almost clinical, like I’m not supposed to be here. And I suppose I’m not. Not anymore.

My feet tread lightly over the wooden floors, and I step over the boards that I know will creak. Waking the rest of the house up right now would not be in my best interest. I need to go on as if my heart has not been bleeding out for hours while Cassius slept next to me. Sleep never came for me because I know what he doesn’t. I know that choices are not something I have. I signed away my right to choices when I became Ruby.

I unlock and open the door to my suite. Entering the room, I half expect Rowan to be curled up in here, but it’s empty. Cold. Lifeless.

Carefully, quietly, I close the door behind me, locking it tight. Leaning with my back against the door, I pull out my phone to reread Rowan’s text. It came a few hours ago, while Cassius slept, and I watched. He was so peaceful in his slumber, hisbreath stealing mine as we faced each other on the pillows. I take a deep breath, clearing my lungs, and unlock my phone.

Rowan: OK! High @ 7am Sry

A last-minute high court meeting can only mean one thing. It’s about me, about Cassius. I rub my temples and look at the time on my phone. 5:17. That gives me just under two hours to prepare. I wish Rowan were here right now; she could help. But based on the last time I saw her on our video call, I imagine whatever she’s up to is dangerous for either her or someone else, which I don’t know.

I don’t know a lot of things lately, and it is beginning to fuck with my head. What I once thought was up is now down, and what was once a way of life I wanted seems so out of place.

What I do know for certain? There’s only one way out of this.

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