Page 25 of Grit & Glamour

Chapter Thirteen

Istare across the room from the bed I’m lying on, watching One as he reads while sitting on the ground near the door. The book’s in another language, not that I’ve managed to figure out which one. At first I thought it might be in German, but then I realised I didn’t recognise any of the words at all, and after two years of learning German in school, I probably should have if it was actually in German.

“Are you going to stare at me the entire time until they get back?” One asks me softly. I sigh and turn over, looking away from him. It just had to be him that volunteered to stay here with me, while I was blissfully unaware of the other’s departure thanks to being in the shower. On the bright side, I’m finally clean, and feeling relatively more human than I had been before the hot jets of water did their job.

“I never said you had to turn around,” he mutters, and then I hear him turning the book’s page.

“You didn’t have to,” I grind out. How long had we been trapped in this room together now? “What time is it?” I ask, wondering how long it’ll be until Theo and Two get be back.

“It’s just gone seven,” One answers.

“But it was quarter to seven when I came out of the bathroom, that doesn’t make…” I trail off as I realise what I’m saying.

“Doesn’t make sense,” he supplies for me. “Yeah, it feels like an hour already to me too.”

“It’s just too awkward,” I complain.

“Awkward?” he questions.

“Yeah. Between the whole, you being a murderer, and the fact you’re in control over if I ever get to see my brother again or not, makes things pretty damn awkward for me,” I answer in an irritated tone.

A harsh bark of a laugh escapes him, startling me. I roll back over to glare at him. He smirks at the sight of my irritation. “Sorry, but you trying to take the moral high ground? It’s hilarious.”

“Fuck you,” I mutter, turning to stare up at the ceiling instead. “You kill people for money. You kidnapped me. And you’d kill my innocent, thirteen-year-old brother if you felt like you could justify it as keeping yourself safe.”

“I’m not planning to kill your brother, Scarlett. I’m not planning to harm either of you if you just do what your told for a little

like a good way to go if it includes those two things,” I answer, wondering where the while.” He lets out a long, tired sigh. As if he’s completely exhausted.

“I didn’t ask what you planned to do, I said what you would do. If the choice was presented to you, and you had to kill him to stop him talking, or whatever else it is people like worry about, you’d do it without blinking. I bet you didn’t even blink over kidnapping me. Just grab a scared girl off the streets when she’s already running for her life,” I rant, still staring up at the ceiling.

“You did pretty well for your first time being kidnapped. You could try being a little quieter next time, though. Also, maybe don’t give away just how much of a crutch your brother is for you, it’s safer to keep your cards to yourself,” One responds, taking me by surprise. I glance over at him and he smiles, as if there’s any humour in what he’s just said.

“That’s easy to say from the side of the kidnapper,” I retort.

“I’ve been kidnapped too,” he says softly. His words send me reeling, and I stare at him, wondering if it’s possible to literally see someone in a new light.

“When were you kidnapped?” I ask.

“It’s actually happened a few times. Mostly training exercises, though I was never sure of that at the time. In this line of work it pays to have someone that’s trained to deal with anything, and that you can trust won’t just break under interrogation,” he explains with a shrug, as if what he’s said isn’t completely incredulous. “Joking aside, Scar, you did good. You didn’t crumble, and a lot of people would. You’re a strong person, and I respect that.”

I think about it for a moment silently, just looking at my captor, before finally responding, “It may have been my first time being kidnapped, but it wasn’t my first time being held captive.” My words hang in the air for a moment, before my brain clicks on something. “You never denied it.”

“I didn’t.”

“How can you expect me to trust you when you’ve just told me you’d kill an innocent child?” I ask him, not understanding how he could even think this is okay.

“I wouldn’t want to, and I hope not to, but everyone has something they’d kill for to protect. And you should trust me because I chose not to lie to you about it,” he answers plainly. He stands, leaving his book open, pages faced down on the floor to save his place. He slowly walks over and sits on the edge of the bed. I try not to show how nervous him being this close makes me. “Would you kill Two and Three to save your brother? To protect him from harm?” he asks me finally.

“It’s not the same,” I answer quickly, not wanting to think about what I’d do, how far I’d go, just to protect my brother.

“Just answer the question,” he demands.

“Maybe, I don’t know. It’s not the same. Caleb is an innocent kid and they’re…”

“Killers?” One supplies in an annoyed tone.

“Well, yeah,” I answer, shrugging. The two just aren’t comparable.

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