Hers To Keep (Servite Academy #2)

Chapter 36

Chapter

Thirty-Six

SCARLETT

R unning desperately through the darkness with nothing to see and nowhere to turn heightens the rest of my senses. I hear voices, and ghostly sounds where there are none. I feel shadows approaching, the hair on the back of my neck standing at the chilling feel of someone behind me.

The metallic taste of blood drips from my nose falling upon my dry, chapped lips. The force of the explosion threw me back, slamming my back and shoulder into a nearby tree. A large scrape burns along my back and right arm, my nose bleeding from the intensity of my fall as I hit the floor.

I can smell the suffocating stench of smoke from the fire nearby. I knew it was coming before I heard the explosion. The smell of gasoline reeked through the cabin, drenched the floorboards, and leaked from the ceiling. If it weren’t for the shadows I saw in the bushes, the noises I heard moving in the yard, I wouldn’t have gotten out in time. I just hope Ace hasn’t come back yet .

I know Wesley was behind it. This reeks of him and the desperation he must feel to be losing his hold on me. I told him I was done playing along, done cowering down to him and his threats, and he warned me I’d regret it.

Surprisingly, I can’t say I do.

Then we went and taunted him. Foolishly we believed we could trick the devil and deceive him. We thought he’d fall for our childish ruse but as always, he once again proves to be one step ahead. I realize I left my phone on the kitchen counter before running out, so I can’t call Ace. I just hope when he arrives back at the cabin and sees it’s in flames, completely shattered by the explosion, he doesn’t think I’ve burned in it.

How will he know I got out alive?

I hear a rustling in the trees to my right, and I know now I’m certainly being followed. He wants to make sure it’s done, that I’m taken care of. I don’t think he saw me escape but he must have sent someone out to finish his job. Only I’m afraid of who it is he’s sent after me.

It can’t be Ace. Had this happened a couple weeks ago, I might have suspected he put him up to it. That Ace was threatened. That he willingly brought me to the cabin, left me alone as he went back into town for food, so that I’d be defenseless. He’d never mean to actually harm me. He’d never put my life in clear and present danger.

I hear the whispers coming even closer, yet they’re still far enough I can’t make out what they say. I speed up my pace trying to outrun them, but a realization hits me, and I now know who they are. The three figures standing outside the floor length window in the dining room, the shadows I thought I was imagining watching me. At first, I ignored it. I thought they must just be here keeping an eye on me for Ace. Control freak he is, he’d want to make sure I wouldn’t leave or get into any trouble. He said they might show up .

I once again remember who they really are. No matter the passive aggressive nature they’ve shown in recent days, they are the Horsemen. If they’re the ones chasing after me, they must still be in the clutches of Wesley Servite.

Of course they are, he’s their master. My only question now…Is Ace?

Could I survive another betrayal at his hand? I know he’s continued to work for his uncle, to keep up appearances and make him believe he’s still on his side. But could he really go as far as putting my life in danger once again? After what happened with Maxwell, I thought I’d seen the extent of Servite’s power, but this crosses any lines I thought were in place.

So much has happened since I first arrived, and although it may be foolish of me, even if it still makes me na?ve to think he genuinely loves me, deep inside I know he does. I can feel it when we’re together. I can see it in the way he looks at me. Gone is the need to control me, the need to make me submit to his demands. Gone is the need to find out what I’m hiding, why I’m here, and in my eyes, although it pains me to think this way, he’s exonerated of all past, present, and future crimes. He’s shown remorse, he’s asked for forgiveness, and although I have yet to tell him so, I forgive him. He’s a sinner who in my eyes is absolved.

Wesley is no fool though. To believe he doesn’t have the upper hand on us, that he is unaware of our ploys to fool him, then we’re the foolish ones. He’s the worst of his kind. He’s capable of anything and this could have been a ploy to be rid of both of us.

He is ruthless and vile, willing to cross every moral line to ensure he gets what he wants. I turned him down, told him there is no way I’ll ever work for him at The Gallows. He wants me to take my mother’s place, to be his new madam, and as much as I’d love to destroy that place from the inside and save those girls, I can’t bring myself to give in to him this time.

I keep running until I reach the end of the lake, my lungs feel as if they’re being ripped apart as I urgently gasp for air. A hidden cabin appears in the distance behind a brush of trees. It looks to be vacant but I’m unsure if I should risk entering only for them to figure out that is where I’ve taken shelter. However, I don’t have the strength to continue to outrun them. My body is slowly giving out, my eyes too tired of tears flowing out of them, and they’re threatening to close. My mouth is dry, my feet feel blistered, and my skin is frozen from the bitter coldness of the woodsy breeze.

I rush over to the cabin, passing the front door and heading to the back of the lot, hoping to find a back entrance where they can’t see me enter. I hear another sound come from the left, from deeper into the woods, as I move to hide behind the back porch columns.

I can see them from my place behind the column, and as I suspected Bass, Alek, and Beck walk toward the yard of the cabin, looking around for me.

“Come out, pretty girl, we promise we’re not here to hurt you,” Alek taunts as they creep closer to me. “Well, not too bad.”

“Shut the fuck up, Alek!” Bass yells as he shoves him.

“What the fuck, Sebastian?” Alek shouts back, moving to push him but Bass is quick to dodge him, shoving him once again. Alek falls back into the trash bins at the end of the yard as I watch intently from my spot behind the column.

“We’re not supposed to hurt her. Ace sent us to check on her,” Bass adds, looking around for me. His eyes find mine, but his face remains impassive. I give him a pleading glance, asking him to keep quiet, to not say a word, but I’m not sure it’s the smart thing to do. It’s impossible to know whose side Sebastian Silver is on. His mood is constantly changing as I’m sure his allegiance does. Not only is he Ace’s best friend, and seemingly loyal to him, but his father holds the second most powerful position in Wesley’s corrupt empire. And whether it be out of loyalty or fear his allegiance sides with him as well .

Alek moves to stand dusting the dirt from the trash cans from his pants. “So what, Ace gives us orders now? Since when do we follow his commands?”

“Just stop, Alek, you’re digging an even bigger hole for yourself. Our allegiance is and will always be to each other first. But it’s seemed for some time now that you’ve forgotten,” Beck says, casually leaning back against the cabin fence and pulling a cigarette from his jean pocket.

“You think Ace’s allegiance is with us first, before her?” A wild laugh erupts from Alek as he paces around. “He has us out here on a wild goose chase, chasing after his whore, when his uncle—the boss—just tried to get rid of her. Tell me, dear Beckett, you honestly think Ace would choose to save you, were she in danger?” Alek sneers, but Beck ignores him, lighting the cigarette in between his lips.

BANG!

Suddenly a gunshot echoes through the trees, startling us all. The leaves before them rustle loudly, something falling out of them at their feet.

“Shit, what the fuck was that?” Bass yells, as they move to take cover behind the trash bins.

BANG!

Another shot rings, this one closer, again rustling the leaves in the trees as something, most likely some kind of animal, falls out of it.

“Fuck, we need to get out of here!” Alek yells, as he moves heading the way they came from.

“We have to make sure she’s safe first,” Bass says, but I don’t stay to hear them argue, as I move toward the back door slowly opening it and seeking shelter inside.

The inside of the cabin is dark and musky, the smell of something rotten engulfing me as the tinge of dust makes me cough brutally. I bend forward, my chest aching, feeling bruised as I cough. I look around for a light switch or lamp but find nothing. The room is pretty much vacant, nothing but sparse pieces of furniture covered in cobwebs and dirty sheets. Whoever this cabin belongs to hasn’t been here in months, or years.

Suddenly something falls behind me hitting the floor with a loud bang, causing me to jump back in fear. I turn toward the sound, my back facing the door I came in as a cold, unnerving breeze blows behind me. A window cracks loudly as something comes flying in from the outside, landing at my feet. With shaky fingers and my heart nearly coming out of my chest, I bend down to pick up the rock that was thrown inside. I instantly feel a presence behind me as I close my eyes terrified of who or what it may be.

“Hey there, sis,” says a deep, monotone voice coming from behind me. A voice I never thought I’d hear again. I slowly turn, coming face to face with clear emerald eyes I’ve seen a million times before, glaring at me from within the shadows.

Holy Shit.

“You,” I mutter breathlessly, all the air leaving my lungs at once. “How…” I stutter, as he slowly approaches me, his hand reaching out to caress my cheek, his fingers gently tracing over the blood on my lips before tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. The gesture is tender, something he would have never done before. He’s wearing dark ripped jeans, his now tattooed and toned chest showing beneath his long red cloak.

“My you’ve grown up,” he says, bringing his hand down slowly grazing the exposed skin of my shoulders. His fingers roam over the scrape against my arm, as I flinch at his touch. “You’ve had an eventful night, haven’t you, sissy?” My eyes follow his movements before I look up to meet his gaze. In his eyes I see a look I hadn’t seen in him before. “You always were beautiful, Scar, but now, even like this—all bloody and covered in dirt—you are absolutely stunning. Must admit the things going through my head right now are less than brotherly. ”

A lustful gaze takes over him as he licks his lips, his eyes lowering to my chest. The son of a bitch is checking me out. I smack his hand abruptly, pushing it off of me.

“What the hell are you doing here, Roman?” I ask in a hushed tone. Roman Wolfe, my stepbrother in the flesh. Saying his name out loud is frightening to say the least. “How did you get here?”

“Oh, I’ve been here all along, sis. If it weren’t for me, Wesley Servite would have had his way with you long ago.” My eyes widen as he mentions Wesley, and he clearly notices. “Who else did you think has been watching out for you? Who else do you think scared away those pathetic little boys? You didn’t honestly believe it was your little boyfriend, did you?” he asks, mentioning Ace. My eyes roam over him once more, my mind racing, millions of unanswered questions running through my mind, and then the realization hits me.

The red cloak draped over his shoulders is identical to the one the hooded figure next to Ace wore the night of Chaz’s murder at Servite Manor.

“It was you, wasn’t it, the one in the red hooded cloak?” His smile widens, confirming my assumption. “Ace told me over and over again that it wasn’t him who killed Chaz, but I never once believed him.” Tears, which earlier were threatening to erupt, now stream relentlessly down my cheeks. I’m surprised I have any left in me. Seems like since I saw my mother for the first time, the night Chaz was murdered, a dam broke and now the tears come flooding out every chance they get. “I hated myself, cursed myself every night for loving a monster. For loving him fearlessly after all he’s done.” I chuckle loudly, the matter at hand not at all funny, but that all this time I’ve been the fool falling for everyone’s tricks. “And it wasn’t even him.” He stares at me, a wicked grin taking over his now rugged features.

Roman’s still as beautiful as he was when we were kids, his light brown hair now shaggy and longer, his emerald eyes a unique shade of green showing a darkness they didn’t have in them before. Tattoos cover the entirety of his lightly tanned, and toned physique, while a light stubble hides his angular jaw. The resemblance to his sister is more apparent than ever.

“Just because he wasn’t the one to pull the trigger doesn’t mean he’s innocent in all of this. Who do you think is the one that brought your mother back? Let me guess, he told you he’d never met her, that he’d never seen her before. Who do you think led her back to you? It wasn’t Wesley. He despises Lilith. She knows all his secrets, enough to destroy him. Wesley wanted her dead, and I was to do the deed, but your little Horseman got in the way. He brought Lilith here, set her up with a place to stay, gave her all she needed to make her come back, and all so he could have the upper hand on his uncle. He even used you to do it. Made his uncle believe he cared about you, so he wouldn’t see any other weakness in him. Servite was so enamored by you, so utterly obsessed that he didn’t see what Ace was plotting behind his back. A way to ruin him.”

My heart aches at his words, but I know they can’t be true. Ace couldn’t have been faking this. Our connection is too real. If he’s done what Roman says there has to be a reason.

“But why? Ace wouldn’t have known to go after Lilith. He wouldn’t have known her connection to Wesley.”

“No, but another did. A third party. The third member of this unholy trinity.”

Another person. Yet again everything I thought I knew is wrong. My mind immediately goes to Maxwell, to my father. He has to be this third person Roman is talking about.

“You were told the story of how you were conceived?” I nod, remembering what Wesley and my mother admitted to doing to my father. “How your mother and Wesley drugged your father, Maxwell Smoak, tricking his then girlfriend Gianna Marchesi into believing he cheated.” I nod my head in agreement, thinking back to the truth I found out just weeks ago but learning her full name for the first time. Marchesi. Gianna Marchesi .

“Her name means nothing to me,” I say, not remembering ever hearing her last name before.

“Well, if I’m not mistaken, your composure shows me they failed to reveal the whole story.”

“Yes, I know they’re keeping something from me. Something Maxwell refused to let my mother confess. But I’m sure you’re dying to enlighten me, aren’t you Roman?” I meet his glare with one of my own, still not understanding how after all these years he’s standing here in Hillcrest Hills before me.

“You know me so well, my darling sister.” He moves toward me, his gaze following my shaky movements as he rounds me coming to stand so closely behind me, whispering scornfully in my ear. “Gianna Marchesi killed herself because of your father’s betrayal.”

My heart drops stunned by his remark as I turn abruptly to face him. He takes advantage of my confusion to push me back as I falter onto the couch beside me. He rushes over to me, his face so close to mine as I hold in a breath afraid of what he’ll do. I close my eyes, silently pleading someone to come find me and save me from whatever is about to ensue. I never feared Roman. Even as a child he was always broody and indifferent toward me, but he would somehow keep us safe. Until he left that is. But now as I blankly stare at him, I don’t recognize the eyes staring back at me.

He murdered someone. It may have been his alcoholic, deadbeat, criminal father, who may or may not have deserved it, but nonetheless he took a life, and I know that does something irreparable to one’s soul.

I feel his hot breath against my cheek as he whispers. “She slit her wrists and drowned in a pool of her own blood. Such a young girl, only sixteen, and her life was stripped away at the hands of your parents. What kind of person does that make you? The daughter of two ruthless murderers.” My eyes burn with tears slipping away but I refuse to open them. “The person who found her, wasn’t your father, like everyone believed.” My father found her? He never mentioned any of this. He said he left when she found out and wanted nothing to do with him. How easily everyone lies. Roman pauses moving in closer to me. “It was her brother Franco Marchesi who discovered her lifeless body.” I open my eyes, looking at him, a taunting smirk on his face as he watches my mind reeling from the bomb he dropped.

“Yes, another thing your darling mother failed to mention was that her connection to Gianna was much stronger than just a simple acquaintance. How do you think they knew where Gianna would be? How do you think they so effortlessly planned for it all to happen?” I look up at him afraid of what he’s going to say next, not sure I can take any more revelations. “Your mother was Gianna Marchesi’s stepsister, and Franco was her stepbrother.”

I wish I didn’t believe him, but what would Roman gain from lying to me? I know nothing of my mother’s childhood. She made me believe her parents kicked her out when they found out she was pregnant, but I now know I should have never believed anything she said.

“How do you know all of this, Roman?” I ask, afraid of his response.

He steps back, moving to sit at an armchair across from me leisurely crossing his legs as he leans back. “For the last six years I’ve been working for Wesley Servite. From the moment I left Providence. Wesley found me in an underground fight club, near death after a weeklong bender. I had fractured my skull, broken three ribs, and shattered my left arm from a fight. He found me outside, thrown out in the back of the warehouse and took me to his club. There, I was treated and for the foreseeable future indebted to him. I did his dirty work, the shit his precious Horsemen were too weak to follow through with. You’d be repulsed by the things I’ve seen, what I’ve done, but Servite gave me a second chance. To finally do something with my life instead of being the son of a deadbeat alcoholic.”

I scoff, rolling my eyes at the audacity of his comment. “He made you into a criminal, a murderer, Roman. How is that any better?”

“Because I did what I did to the sinners who deserved it. They plague this earth, Scarlett, pollute this town with their sinful actions, their depraved thoughts. They do it all and get away with it because of the power they hold. No one should hold that much power. The pride, greed, gluttony, envy, all of it is intoxicating and corrupting. Much like your boy toy Ace, the one thing I never realized was that the man who taught me that, was the worst of them all. Wesley Servite was the ultimate sinner, the worst of his kind, and so my loyalties flipped. I found a new man to guide me, to follow his orders.”

“Who?” I ask him, confused. “You can’t possibly mean my father.”

He shakes his head. “Franco Marchesi. A man who grew up as a part of this world in Hillcrest Hills and was sent away by his father as a prepubescent boy because of his violent tendencies. He’s a psychopath if I ever met one, but he’s never once physically hurt a soul. The eldest son of Gabriel Marchesi, part of one of the most dangerous crime families in the entire country, Franco showed me the evil that Wesley Servite and those around him are guilty of—the drugs, the prostitution, the organized crime. Servite is the mob itself.”

I nod, taking in all the information that isn’t new to me. “But this Franco Marchesi, who is he? How did he get you involved?”

“I’m glad you asked. You see, since he was sent away at barely thirteen, Franco was able to take on a new identity when he returned. When he graduated from the military boarding school his father sent him to, he went on to graduate from Holland, and was determined to come back to Hillcrest Hills and rejoin the society that cast him out. But what he realized upon his arrival, was that his sister was gone, and once again his family had been exiled. Did anyone ever tell you about the fire that happened on Halloween night all those years ago?” Fuck. Not this shit again. That God awful story Stella once told us, why the school and all those around here were cursed. Of course it all has to lead back to that.

“1920. Where almost forty percent of the school’s population was killed, including the first-born sons of the five original founding families of Hillcrest Hills: the Servites, the Silvers, the Smoaks, the Prescotts and a fifth unknown member. There was a huge fire that was ruled an accident, but there’s always been a rumor that it was started by a member of the fifth family. They say that’s why they were exiled from the town and not brought in when the school was rebuilt, therefore erased from its history. No one, except of course for the founding families, even knows their surname.” I am surprised I remembered every detail of the old story.

“Yes, exactly. My if you aren’t all caught up on your Hillcrest Hills history,” he says mockingly.

And then it hits me, like it’s been dangling before me this whole time. The connection to the fifth family. My mother. Gianna. Franco. “Marchesi. That’s the name of the fifth family,” I mutter, however not sure if to myself or out loud.

“You’re quite intelligent, sis, not just a pretty face. I’m impressed. It’s apparently some sick romantic tragedy bullshit, it always is with these rich fuckers. Never just a simple misfortune. Point is that two of the grandsons of the founders fell in love with the same girl, the only granddaughter of the Marchesi family. The girl’s eldest brother started the fire to kill one of them, the one his sister truly loved, but in fact she’d already run off with him. The fire spread out of control and took him and the man he wanted for his sister. The Marchesis’ were then quietly exiled for the mass murder they caused. In 1990, they came back, richer, and more powerful than ever before. Gabriel Marchesi had now re-married the daughter of a prominent political family from the East Coast that secured his safe return, Evangeline Steele.”

Steele. As in Lilith Steele. “Lilith’s family?” I ask .

“Lilith’s mother.” A shiver runs through me at the sound of another voice behind me. A dark, deep, and shrilling voice I used to hear daily and now haunts my nightmares since that dreadful night.

Macallan.