Page 49 of Greased

He nods but I can tell he doesn’t believe her. It’s obvious she can too, as she straightens back to full height. Dacre does too, imitating her movements like she is a conduit keeping him grounded.

“I’m mad at you. Really fucking mad. But I’m not going anywhere.”

“Promise?” he whispers, desperation laced in his voice. A deep seated need for her, one we share.

“I promise.” Her voice is firm and I can see the moment the reassurance settles the demon inside of him.

“But,” he stiffens again, as if bracing for impact, “that doesn’t mean you are just let off the hook. I need an explanation from you.”

He starts nodding straight away. “You have it. Time and place. I’ll hold nothing back.”

She gives him an assessing look, “You are going to work for it. Just because you have a soft spot in my heart doesn’t mean I’m going to be any less firm with you. You will be in the trenches with those assholes.” Her head nods back towards where Nicky, Sonny and Dawson are all standing.

A small smile creeps onto his face. While there is still a whisper of the episode still lingering in his eyes, it's mostly gone. I let out a sigh in relief. Never before has anyone of us been able to settle him as quickly as Scarlett was able to. She is a fucking miracle. We don’t deserve her. None of us do. But God, if I won’t do everything in my power to keep her.

Scarlett steps away then, “Okay, well if you are all good, I better head back to the shower,” she says awkwardly. We seem to then all clue into the fact that the only thing covering her wet naked body is the thin towel she has clutched around her body.

Dacre’s eyes drop and instantly widen, a blush spreading across his cheeks. He gulps and goes to talk but his mouth just gapes like a fish. I share the sentiment too. It shouldn’t feel this raunchy to see someone in a towel, especially considering the circumstances but goddamn, Scarlett could make a potato sack look sexy.

“Okay. Bye,” she squeaks, turning quickly but before she gets too far, I grab her arm, halting her escape. She turns to look at me and I have to name the President in my head to regain control of myself. To stop myself from fucking this up even more.

“Once training is done, can we talk?” I ask, hopeful that we will get the chance to explain everything to her sooner rather than later.

My hope is crushed as she shakes her head no. “I’m sorry. I’ve got to meet Shelly to go over the induction stuff.”

I nod, remembering she had mentioned it to us at lunch. “Tomorrow?” I ask, yet again hopeful.

She shakes her head again in a no. “Sorry, the girls have organised band practice.” I’m just about to ask about Wednesday but she beats me to it. “Wednesday I’ve got a meeting with Dad and the leadership. Thursday, I’ve got band practice again. Friday, I’m going to Pinks’ with the girls.”

“Saturday?” I ask.

She nods her head and relief fills me, “Saturday.”

“Okay,” I say, a smile brightening my face.

She returns a smile for a moment before realising she is still standing in a boy’s locker room in only a towel. Her eyes widen as she looks around the room, noticing all the guys with their hungry gazes on her.

“Yep. Catch ya.”

I chuckle, watching as our girl takes off out of the room like her ass is on fire.

It doesn’t take long for me to finish off showering and get dressed back into our school uniform. There is a grim tint to everything though. I knew that Dacre has struggled with mental health but seeing him in person in that state was harrowing. Then the way he looked at me after I was able to bring him out of it was nothing short of devastating.

He looked at me like I am the air that he breathes. The only thing that was able to bring him back to himself.

It’s making me rethink everything. About not being so harsh on him. While he still needs to explain, in depth, to me what actually went on and make it up to me, I don’t think I can shut him out.

Under all of this newfound feminine rage that has been marinating for months now, there is still a beating heart. A heart that cracked the moment it saw Dacre so raw and vulnerable.

I vow to listen. To hear them all, but especially Dacre out. It’s clear he needs me. That fact warms my soul. I don’t have it in me to be a cold,relentless bitch. It would destroy me if something happened to Dacre just because I was mad at them for what they did. It may seem like I am bending, like I’m not strong enough, but that's not the case. Under everything, I can’t forget the way I fell so incredibly in love with them. The way it felt like I had known them in another life.

It's clear that I had.

This life.

The before.

Before I was taken by a rival gang and abused.

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