Adapt (I)
Chapter Fifty Eight

SCARLET

When I get back to Trent’s house, I instantly berate myself for locking the door behind me. How the hell am I supposed to get into the house without waking anyone up?

I remember that Boe had opened the window to Clarke’s room. I jump the fence to the backyard and climb through the window as silently as I possibly can. In the end it doesn’t matter. A bomb couldn’t have woken the Ranger house. I turn off the bedside light before leaving the room. With Phoenix close behind, I shut the door behind me. Boe and Caron deserve sleep, even if I will not be able to shut my eyes long enough to even consider it.

I find something to eat for Phoenix and I pour myself a bowl of cereal. While I chew without tasting, I spend some time on Jess’s laptop. After about thirty minutes of trying, and failing, to find what I am searching for, I decide to call the only person I know would be able to help me.

“Scarlet, do you know what the time is?” Chandler says, groggily.

“I’m sorry.” I say, realising I have called him in the middle of the night.

I hear some shifting in the background. “It’s okay. I was just going to sleep.”

I frown and look at the clock. “What keeps you up until 3:20am?” I ask, incredulous.

I hear him yawn. “The siren call of Skyrim. Scarlet, I know you didn’t call for a chat.”

“Your right.” I say. “I need three untraceable email accounts.”

I can almost hear his eyeroll. “They don’t exist.”

“There’s not a way to make them really hard to track down?”

He pauses. When he speaks again, his voice is a little more awake. “Well, sort of.”

“Is it something you could do?”

He snorts. “Of course, I can.” I can tell his interest is peaked. “It’s just a matter of leading whoever is tracing it down a rabbit whole that keeps forking out into viruses.”

“Do you think that you could make three for me?” I ask, sure that I could never manage to figure all of that out in the next sixteen hours.

He is silent on the other end, then he sighs. “Scarlet, is something going on?”

I swallow. “Kind of, but it’s better that you don’t know. I wouldn’t ask you if I thought I could do it myself.”

Another pause. “Okay. I’ll do it. But you owe me a favour.”

“Okay...?”

“Can you put in a good word with Caron for me?” He says quickly.

I almost laugh. “Chandler, I can do my best.”

“That’s all I ask.” He huffs. “Okay, I will text you with the log ins for the emails this afternoon. Right now, I need to sleep.” He hangs up.

I close the laptop and put my bowl in the sink. I go into the back yard and into the training shed. I leave Phoenix in the backyard, hoping to God that he doesn’t dig up Jess’ garden the way he dug up my backyard. I flick on the lights in the shed and set up the space. I don’t bother to wrap my knuckles or put on the shin guards. I hang the heaviest bag on the hook in the centre of the room and start on, what ends up being, the longest training session I have ever done.

I punch and jab, kick and elbow until my skin should be raw. Every time I think that I have finally broken my skin, I look at my knuckles, my shins, my elbows and... nothing. The bag swings so hard it hits the metal rafters. When that happens, I grab the bag, steady it and purposefully pull my strength back in before starting again.

I know that I am just distracting myself from everything that has happened in the last three days. I know that I will eventually have to face everything. But every time my mind drifts in that direction, I punch harder, bringing myself back to the here and now.

I will not crumble.

I am also distracting myself from what I am about to do.

Hours have passed. It isn’t until Phoenix’s barks and yips break through my barrage of self-distraction, that I realize that dawn has broken.

The door swings open. “Scarlet!?” Trent’s voice barks.

I steady the swinging bag and turn to look at Trent. My body is a lather of sweat and my breathing is slightly heavier than normal.

“Hey.” I say, innocently.

“What are you doing!?” He marches in.

“Blowing off some steam.” I say in an overly nonchalant tone.

Boe and Caron follow him, looks of sheer panic on their faces.

Boe is the first to break the silence.

“You should be resting. Why are you out here?”

I take a deep breath. “Caron’s handy work must have sped up the healing process.” I rub the spot where my wound had been. “Maybe the antibiotics helped as well. It’s all closed up now.”

Caron walks forward, reaching for my shirt. I jump back, instantly. If they see the clean skin, they will be suspicious. They have all seen my healing process before. I had never healed this quickly in the past.

“It’s still tender.” I say, too quickly.

“Then why are you out here?” Caron’s voice pitches.

“I haven’t been out here for long.” I lie.

Boe narrows his eyes.

“Then come inside.” Trent says in his fatherly tone. “You need a decent meal in your belly.” With a caring arm, he guides me out of the shed and into the house. Caron and Boe follow.

Jess makes the whole house breakfast. Saturday in the Ranger household means pancakes, fruit and bacon, garnished with maple syrup and whipped cream. Tamara floats from lap to lap, never eating from the same persons plate twice. Clarke asks Boe non-stop questions about our fight the other night. He teases Boe for being the only one with bruises now. Trent had not taken a hit to the face, just a sucker punch to the back of the head, which I hope he gets checked out in the next few days. So, Trent looks like he hasn’t even taken a hit. And all of my wounds have ‘vanished’, making Clarke forget that I was bleeding out on his bed not twenty-four hours ago. Which just leaves Boe with purple bruises on his face. By tomorrow I am sure they will start to yellow, but for now they look very painful.

Boe humours Clarke, exaggerating the retelling of the fight, embellishing how heroic Trent and I were. I roll my eyes when Boe glances at me and gives me a wink, but my heart feels heavy.

Boe uses his arm to emphasize how he had gotten knocked out and I saved him from certain death. Tamara, who is wrapped in his other arm, watches him. Clarke lets out a ‘whoa’ which only encourages Boe forward in his epic retelling. I smile at how much I really like the way Boe treats Tamara and Clarke.

My smile broadens as I realize that every day, I seem to find another reason to love him.

In this moment I finally understand why all of the books and movies refer to the heart being where we feel desire, lust and love. It had always baffled me, since there is no way the heart can make decisions. But the knotting in my chest clearly says otherwise because this is physical. My body is in perfect condition and yet the ache in my chest threatens to bring tears to my eyes.

Can I do this to him? Leave in the middle of the night? To be concealed by one of our enemies?

He would definitely try to find me. He would refuse to see that my leaving is to protect him. He has been in my life for two weeks and yet I can’t seem to imagine my life without him. He has become a part of my ‘normal’.

On the other hand, it would preserve his career as a hunter. It would protect him from whatever trouble he could get into for protecting me. It would also protect him from any crossfire he would land himself in by being associated with me.

Boe grins at Clarke, who is claiming to be a Grand Theft Auto Prodigy. Boe’s eyes meet mine breifly again and I quickly blink and look down, so he doesn’t see the shine of my tears. In a hurry I get up and offer to clear the plates.

I make a point of hanging about to help Caron and Jess clean up the kitchen. I silently wipe down the benches, listening to the chatter resonating throughout the house. The simplicity of all of the conversations, the easy energy flowing in the house, the way the midmorning sun reaches into the living room – it all culminates in my mind. I know that in the future I will look back and long for this moment.

The day passes in a sort of imitation of routine. Clarke ropes Boe into playing Grand Theft Auto for hours. They both scream at the TV. Boe lets some of his competitiveness out, causing Clarke to get playfully frustrated. I get the sense that Boe is quite good at video games, with his background in all thing’s technology. But he doesn’t crush Clarke like I suspect he could. Trent watches them from the recliner, Tamara sleeping in his arms. Phoenix lays on the floor, jerking when Boe or Clarke yell. After about three hours, Trent tells them to switch to Mario Kart. This time they play on the same team, against the computer, which helps calm Clark down.

Caron busies herself by burying her nose in her phone and Jess occupies herself with chores.

I sip on the tea that I had been working on for the last two hours, watching the scene in the lounge room and throwing out comments when I think there is unfair play. More than once I am told to mind my own business by Clarke, which just makes me smile.

Then it dawns on me that this may be my only chance to get my hands on Boe’s phone. While I was hitting the punching bag this morning, I was going through the list of possible ways someone could track me. Boe’s phone had come to mind, when he had found me in the hospital by using a Ghosting App. I wouldn’t be taking my phone with me, but there is a chance Boe had put a tracker (or five) on my Jeep. I don’t have time to debug my car the best thing I can do it remove Boe’s phone. Hopefully, he has left it in Clarke’s bedroom.

With care, I sit the cup on the bench. I slip down the hallway. I don’t need to make any excuse. No one will question it. they will dismiss my actions as needing the bathroom.

In the bedroom, I look for the phone. He hadn’t just left it on the bedside table or anywhere conspicuous. Of course not. More than likely it is in his pocket, but I have to try. I start to look through his duffle bag. Clothes. An extra set of trainers. His dagger, which surprises me for some odd reason. It looks exactly like mine. The only difference is the small charm that is linked around the wire hilt. A golden wing.

Why is that so familiar? I have seen that symbol before. Where? Mesmerized, I pick it up and let the hilt weigh in my palm. The dagger feels... charged. Pitter patters of energy run up my arm and I drop the dagger. It lands back in Boe’s duffle bag.

I swallow the ball in my throat and slowly zip up Boe’s bag.

Shaken, I look around the room, trying to think of any other possible places for Boe to hide his phone. My eyes spot the blankets and pillow in a pile on the floor. I go over and start to wedge my hands between the layers.

My fingertips hit something hard. I wrap my fingers around it and let out a relieved breath as I see the screen of Boe’s phone. I know it all too well, being envious of it since our first hunt.

“Is everything okay?”

I stand and spin, hiding my hand behind my back to face Boe. He looks incredible, in a dark grey t-shirt and a pair of slate jeans. His monochrome style makes his green eyes vivid. Even in the dim light of Clarke’s bedroom, he looks like a God of Sun, with his tan skin and black hair.

“Yep.” I peep, my hands fidgeting with the phone behind my back.

He takes in my nervous stance. For a moment, I think he is going to ask me what is in my hands. Then his lips settle into a lopsided smile, and I realize that he is mistaking my nervousness for something else.

He comes over to me and traces one fingertip around the edge of my face. “It’s amazing. How quickly you healed. Yesterday I was sure I was going to lose you. Today, you are completely healed.”

I gulp, his touch sending simultaneous waves of desire and guilt over me. I can’t help but note how comfortable he is with me. He doesn’t seem to have any questions about what our relationship status is. He seems to know. The heart clenching feeling returns to my chest, because I want so desperately accept what Boe is wordlessly offering - an easy relationship. The kind that feels safe and warm. The kind where I can completely unload every thought in my mind without fear of rejection. Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ ꜰindNʘvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment, trying to shut down my emotions. When I reopen my eyes, I speak quickly so that I don’t lose my nerve. “Did Trent find the girls?” I already know that they are safe and in - what I hope is - the best possible care. Boe doesn’t know, though. More importantly, he doesn’t know that I know.

He just gives a slight shake of his head. “No. I don’t think that HQ got them, though. I’m guessing that Logan has them. I am not sure if that is a good thing or not. But the more I think about it, the more I wonder what the hell we thought we would do with them once we rescued them.”

I shrug and shift a little so that I am not in such a precarious position. I move over to my bag that Boe had packed for me and pretend to rustle though it, manoeuvring my hand around so that Boe doesn’t see what my sticky fingers have acquired. “We couldn’t just leave them there.”

Boe doesn’t respond for a moment. Maybe he saw what was in my hand. It had been a long time since I had stolen anything. I could be out of practice. My palms are a little sweaty and I am glad that my face is now turned away from him.

Not only am I stealing from Boe, but I am lying by omission as well. It feels wrong. No, more than that, it feels unnatural.

“Scarlet.” Boe finally says. His tone is softly commanding - a tone he has never really taken with me. I finish hiding the phone and quickly fish out something so that my actions don’t seem so suspicious. I face Boe, prepared for his accusations and ready to defend myself.

But his face is sad, not accusing. I see the weight that he is carrying in his shoulders now. “HQ only gave me until tomorrow morning to collect you.”

I want to breath out a sigh of relief, but I don’t. “Oh.” I say, buying myself a few moments to process this information. It seems that Boe is still trying to find a solution that doesn’t result in me going to HQ. Little does he know that I already have one.

I take in a slow breath. “Well, what do you propose?” I ask, trying to gather as much information as possible before I formulate my plan going forward.

He creases his brow. “I wish I had something ideal, but I don’t. And I am positive that you will not like it. The only thing I can see having a small chance of working is if we leave town. I will figure out how to hide you somehow.” His head bows slightly, and I can see that he doesn’t see this plan having a lot of merit.

I chew on my lip. I mean, it is pretty much what I have planned already, minus Boe. In truth, yes, I didn’t like leaving my family and friends, but I am not going to put them in danger by staying in town.

My eyes study Boe while he isn’t looking at me. I realize that the weight on his shoulders is me. I am complicating his life more than he anticipated. I was supposed to be a mission, nothing more, and I roped him into staying. Now he is caught up in trying to protect me from Head Quarters - one man against a whole organization. It is unfair of me to keep him buried under the burden that is me.

Then an idea strikes me. “Okay.” I say.

His head lifts. “Okay?”

I nod. “You’re right, I don’t think there is another option.” My voice is tight.

He opens his mouth, then closes it. I see the weight get heavier on his shoulders, which just further resigns me to my choices. He takes a deep breath. “Okay.” He says. “Alright. Do you want to take Phoenix with us?” he asks.

Phoenix. I hadn’t thought of him. The poor dog. I had raised him and trained him. Leaving him behind would be so hard. But I don’t think I could suffer him getting hurt in the crossfire that my future holds. Even if everything goes peaches tonight, I have the potential of the hunters locking their slights on me again.

And there is that ‘coming of age’ that Logan mentioned. I have no idea what that is, but I’m sure it is nothing good.

I shake my head. “I will leave him with Clarke and Tamara. They will need him more than I will.” I say, a catch in my throat. This whole thing feels like a betrayal.

Boe nods. “I have to pack the last of my things. Do you want me to pack any of your things?”

“No.” I say, far too quickly. I fear Boe seeing that my wardrobe is already empty. “No.” I say, a little more controlled. “I will find time to pack.”

He takes another forced breath. “Well, I guess that settles that.” He says, then he forces a smile. “We will hit the road by Midnight.”

My fists clench at my sides. That is the time Logan and I had settled on. “How about dawn? Just give me one last night with my family.”

He takes a step toward me and wraps his arms around me.

My sigh falls from my lips before I can stop it. Every muscle in my body relaxes. God, he feels so good. His embrace is altogether bliss. Mind, Body and Soul. I feel Boe relax as well.

Can I give this up?

A question I don’t deserve to ask, and deserve less an answer to. It doesn’t matter. I have made my decision; I have to remember why. As much as Boe feels like absolutely everything I need and want, I also cannot let him turn every part of his life upside down for me. He had worked so hard to get to where he is in HQ. I cannot let him throw that all away for some girl that he met in a little town on the coast, that has more baggage than any one person can carry.

“Okay, Ranger. Enjoy your night with your family. I will leave around five to pack.”

I nod against his chest, a pained smile stretching my face when I hear him use the military style nickname.

He steps away, his hands still resting on my shoulders. “It won’t be forever.” He says then wipes a tear from my cheek I hadn’t realized escaped.

I nod, even though every fibre of my being tells me that the decisions I am making right now will have affects that last a lifetime.

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