I was sitting in the company's cafeteria. Chairs and tables surrounded me, empty as ghosts. The light above was unusually bright. I was eating a turkey sandwich and iced tea. Taking them just didn't seem right, even though there was no one around. My guilty conscience made me leave ten dollar bill near the cash box.
The Chicago skyline was brilliantly shining out of the glass windows. The cafeteria was still high above the ground. I assumed that the first floor was just the lobby and receptionist desk I had first seen. It gave me a sense of comfort, seeing the cars and people walking by, maybe after a long day of work or coming home from the supermarket. Their lives were still normal, at least, and it gave me a sense of comfort to know that the Bratva hadn't completely taken over Chicago. It meant that maybe they could still be stopped.
I chewed, thinking about what Scar had said. He was confusing, infuriating, and devastatingly gorgeous all at once. Scar pushed me to do things I would have never thought of. Leaving home and exploring one of the most dangerous, incredible cities in the world? I would never have dreamed of doing these things without Scar. He dangled my life in front of my nose at times, but I knew that Scar would never allow me to get hurt. He played life like a game, and somehow won.
I guess I had fallen for the bad boy, after all.
The bad boy who calls me kitten.
What were my father and Marie doing right now? Probably having a fit. I had been missing for one full day. I knew that going home would be a suicide mission now. Maybe I should just stay in Chicago and never go home. I was terrified of facing my dad's wrath. I didn't blame him. Little Genevieve would never run away with a stranger. I knew that I had some major explaining to do. Mentioning that it was all because of Scar ensured that I would never be allowed to see him again, and I wasn't sure I was ready to let him go.
I spotted a phone hanging from the corner behind the counter. For a moment, I was torn. Should I call or not? I decided to put my father's mind to rest, and Marie's. Besides, maybe they wouldn't punish me as bad when we went home if I explained beforehand. I picked up the phone and dialed the numbers. It rang 3 times before Marie answered.
"Hello?" her voice was dull, and sounded thick.
''Hi." I said meekly. My heart was in a panic. I gripped the cord and prepared myself.
"Hello? Who is this?" Marie demanded.
"It's me...Genevieve." I whispered.
There was no words from the other line for a second. All I could hear was heavy breathing. When Marie spoke again, her voice was skeptical. "Excuse me?"
"Marie, it's me. Genevieve."
"Genevieve?" she repeated, as if the name was foreign. "Genevieve Warrens, my step-daughter?"
"Yes."
"Oh my goodness!" she gasped from the other side. Immediately, there was sobbing noises, and then she started shouting for my father. "Henry- Henry come here! It's Genevieve! Where in the world...we have been searching everywhere for you! Do you even understand the stress your father and I have been going through....we called the cops but they said we had to wait 2 days!" Marie yelled. "Where are you, Genevieve? And where is Scar? Are you with him? Are you hurt? Oh, Henry-"
"Marie, please let me explain-"
"Genevieve Renee Warrens." Dad's voice was deep and threatening. I breathed a sigh of relief at his baritone voice. It sounded like home. "Tell me what happened. Now."
"Dad, please. Before you start yelling, just let me explain." I said quickly. "I'm totally fine, I'm not hurt at all."
"We thought you had been kidnapped!" he yelled. I winced at the loudness.
"Uh...well, kinda. But not really. Dad, I promise I'm fine. I'm not hurt. Scar...well, Scar kinda- there was this thing..." I trailed off, not sure how to find the right words that wouldn't make him any angrier. If this was a joke, here would be the punchline. I took a deep breath and decided to get right to the point. "I'm in Chicago."
There was no response, just heavy breathing. I could hear my father trying to calm himself. Marie whispered something comfortingly in the background. I must've been on speakerphone.
"Chicago?" he said slowly. Disbelief was clear in his voice. I tried to imagine being in his shoes, and the thought made me feel guilty.
"Yes." I kept my voice level. "I understand it was sudden, but it had to be done. Dad, I'm sorry for leaving like that. I know you're mad, but please...just trust me. I was doing what I had to do." Lies. "Scar and I are both in Chicago. He's been taking care of me all this time. We're in absolutely no danger, we're both safe. I will be back home as soon as this blows over. I promise I'll explain everything when I get home."
"When you get home?!" he shouted. "You're coming home right this second, Genevieve! Tell me where you are and I'll come get you right now. Tell me."
"I don't know."
"Genevieve!" he warned.
"Dad, I can't tell you because I don't know. I don't know anything, Scar is-"
"Let me talk to Scar."
"That's not a good idea. Dad, listen to me! Stop worrying. Don't call the cops. I'm safe. I'm not hurt. I wasn't kidnapped or anything, this was just a sudden, out of the blue trip." I said.
"Genevieve, you are 16 years old. You are my daughter, and you're in damned Chicago with a boy we barely know! Tell me why I shouldn't worry. Chicago has one of the highest crime rates in this country. Of course I'm going to worry. You're getting on a plane, kid, and you're coming home tonight. Say goodbye to your freedom. You're grounded until college. I mean it."
"I can't come home! Scar won't let me-"
"To hell with Scar!" he shouted. "I'm your father, Genevieve. You get on a plane, with or without that stupid boy. I swear to God, if you're not home by tomorrow-"
The phone was suddenly ripped from my hands. Scar was standing next to me, glaring. I backed away, watching as he hung the phone up.
"Tell me you didn't call your parents." he growled.
"I'm sorry, I had to." I muttered defensively. Scar walked towards me, his face furious. He had cleaned himself up, and looking much better. His face was still beaten up, the skin blistered around his fresh wounds. He had changed into a clean shirt, and there was no sign of the knife wound in his abdomen.
"The only reason I took you here without telling your parents was because I know you don't want them to get hurt! The best way to save the people you love is to leave them behind. What's to say the Bratva aren't watching us right this second? What if they come after your family? Really, kitten, I thought you were smarter than that." he muttered, running his fingers through his wet hair.
"I'm sorry." Tears prickled the corner of my eyes. I was fed up with the petty fights we'd been having all night. "I'm sorry for everything. Just leave me alone. I can't deal with your crap right now. I just want to sleep."
Scar sighed, looking defeated. He rubbed his lip ring and looked out the window. Something scratched at my eyes. They suddenly burned with the effort of staying open. I couldn't tell if he would make us stay here or go back to the motel. He noticed me rubbing my eyes and sighed deeply again.
"Come here." he said softly. I watched as Scar moved to the window, gazing out at the Chicago stars. After a moment, I followed. We stood side by side, looking out. The stars shined brightly, even in the city. Far below, cars dispersed into the dark night.
"It's beautiful."
"Yeah." I agreed.
"Like you." he murmured.
I froze, barely breathing. The sentence almost seemed comical. Me? Beautiful? The two words were a crime to even be said in the same sentence. I scoffed under my breath. Nora could be considered beautiful. I could never. A girl with acne, frizzy hair, and thin lips wouldn't even fit into the catagory of "pretty."
Scar noticed my resentment. "What, you don't think you're beautiful?"
"Scar, I know I'm not. Now shut up, you just ruined the moment."
"Kitten, why-"
"Why do you call me that?" I cut him off. He noticed I had changed the subject on purpose but didn't say anything about it. I looked straight, focusing on the building across from where we stood. A bird fluttered past the glass, landing on the spired fence below.
"I don't know, it just suits you." he shrugged.
"Scar."
"Ugh. I call you that because you look like one, kitten." he admitted. I rubbed one eye and stared at him skeptically. "Really. The night I met you, even though I had just been stabbed, the first thing I noticed was your eyes. They were so big and blue, kinda like this one cat my little sister bought home one day."
"Huh." I muttered. "That's ironic, considering I'm allergic to fur."
"Yeah, well I know that now."
"Thanks for getting me that, by the way." I suddenly felt the need to thank him. "That kitten you put on the bed when I woke up here. It was sweet."
"I thought it might help calm you down. I mean, how mad could you be to a guy who gives you a cat, even though he drugged and kidnapped you?"
"True." I watched him rub the cuts on his face gently. He didn't look at me again. I let a moment of quiet pass before breaking it. The silence was fragile, and speaking gave me the sense of breaking delicate glass. "So what are you going to do? About the Bratva?"
"I'll give them the money tomorrow, I guess. No point in putting it off anymore. They're getting more and more skittish. The Sevskaya Bratva don't care about the money. It's the worth of debt that matters. Sebastian offered to help."
"And what about me?"
"It's too dangerous for you, kitten. You'll have to stay in the motel. I'm not risking your life."
"Scar, I want to go. I can help! If you're not going to let me, then why am I here? I'm as much of use as Sebastian. And from what he's said, you'll need all the help you can get. You can't take down one of the most dangerous gangs in-
"I said no, Genevieve." Scar's voice was bordering on dangerous.
"But-"
"That is enough." he snapped. I recoiled back, the feeling of being unwanted wrap around my stomach. Scar pressed his lips together tightly, and released them so suddenly that the blood quickly filled his thin lips back up. He stared out the window, looking tired.
"No." he muttered. "Not you. I lost my entire family because of the Bratva. I'm not going to put you in any more danger, especially when it is unnecessary. You'd be dead before the first step into the building. I can't protect you from this. Please, Genevieve."
I inhaled sharply. Time changes, and people change with it. Even though I met Scar only a few months ago, it felt like a lifetime. In that short amount of time, we had gone from absolutely loathing each other to actually caring. Now that I knew some of his past, I saw him in a whole new light. Scar was still technically a teenager, but his past made him seem ages older.
"Understood. So what do we do now?"
"We go to sleep. Je pense que tu es belle. Good night."
The French phrase left me in confusion. I hadn't know that Scar knew any French, but then again, he was full of surprises. Scar walked out, heading towards Sebastian's office. I stayed put and continued looking at the starry night. For some reason, they didn't twinkle as brightly as before.