One Call

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Chapter 22

Blaze POV

I watch Scarlett stir the black coffee absentmindedly, as she stares at the strangers sprawled out across the couches. I place my cup down on the counter and the echo of the mug hitting the grant top catches her attention.

She slowly puts her glass down on the kitchen counter as well, letting it echo in the empty kitchen. She wanted to talk but she is more guarded than me and would not be able to open up to strangers. So I asked if she wanted coffee and whisked her away to the furthest corner away from the living room.

"I don't like this B," she murmurs still watching them as if they were enemies, and to her they are. Hell, two months ago they were to me too.

I let out a long sigh as I lean on the counter behind me, "I know. I know," I mutter running a tired hand down my face.

"This isn't like you," she adds sliding me a quick glance before going back to staring at my new found friends.

"I know," I repeat because I don't know what to say.

Should I tell her everything?

Tell her that I tried to run but it broke my heart so bad I couldn't do it. Tell her that Hazel is the most supportive person I know, or that Mo has been there for me like I never knew someone could. Explain that Mason has the biggest heart he tries to hide behind his playboy persona, or that Jax is the strong silent type unless Hazel is involved and then he's a mess. Or even that Jackson is the best listener when it comes to just pour ones soul out and keeping his mouth shut about it.

How could I even begin to explain Axel to her.
I watch Scarlett analyze them individually like she did to everyone.

Me and Scarlett Jones were not as close as we appeared. She saved my life more times than I can count and I hers, but only for survival. The odds were in our favor if we had more numbers.

But then it became a crowd when we picked up more lost souls, so we settled down in Georgia. Stayed put and called each other friends, but truly we were like the lost boys. Just using each other as a substitute for what we all craved. A true home. A real family.

We got too comfortable and that led to the fire in Georgia. That fucking psycho let her men set fire to the house we were "borrowing."

"You really staying?" She asks and this time she is really looking at me.

I almost feel relaxed looking into the coldest blue eyes I have ever seen- well had ever seen. Axel has her beat with his iceberg blue orbs that never fail to make me lose all common sense.

"That's the plan," I shrug finding the countertop suddenly interesting. I don't want her to give me that look, the one that tells me to think with my head, not my heart.

"This is really not like you," she repeats running her fingers through her main, something she only did when she needed to think. When she needed time to come up with a plan.

It's then I see her arm, she had taken off her jacket probably half an hour ago, but I just noticed it.

"He found you?" I say sucking in a breath and making my way over to her to examine the bruises cascading down her arm almost like a waterfall, attempting to appear beautiful on her smooth skin.

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