Yes. We return to the others.

Gwendolion was in a chipper mood for the rest of the week, but there was no denying Arabella’s uncomfortable presence as her trust became wired down to what it was before. You tried to comfort her, telling her that there was no reason to consider Scarlet a threat anymore, but the more you bumped into her, the more you wondered if there was more to reconsider, too. How many times could you suddenly “bump” into another contractor before it was considered a red flag?

Scarlet was everywhere, even in places where you were doing work. Sometimes, she’d even appear at job sites taking your gig. She was always cocky. Other times, she was aggressive, though. She worked like an animal, leaving morbid scenes of slaughter wherever she was. On more than one occasion, you’d find her smoking with her reds damp with blood and her cheeks smudged with crimson. The blue of her eyes was made vivid by the bloodlust still coursing in her veins.

Towards the end of December, you found her at a bar, beaten bloody, and a bandage over the bridge of her nose. You came to get a drink, but she had already worked herself beyond a buzz and was at the gates of being a plastered drunk. When your eyes meet, her eyes flare up in a remarkable shade of blue. “Oh, look who’s here,” her speech is all slurred, and the flared color of his cheeks is rosy.

“You’re getting real good at finding me, you know?” You smile at her, but she doesn’t return the gesture. “Should I warrant a restraining order on you?”

“I will literally kill you when I get a chance,” she smugly smiles at you. “There’s a hard bounty on your hard, you know?”

There’s a slight shift in your stomach, but hearing the news doesn’t surprise you. “I’m glad to know I’m too far into your favor to be killed by you then.”

The corners of her smile quirk in amusement, but she doesn’t say anything. “I might be waiting for the bill to increase.”

“You don’t seem like the type,” you gamble, unsure what Scarlet truly entails. “I’m sure I have more value to be alive than dead.”

She frowned dramatically and nodded as she shrugged. “How do you know you’re just thinking highly of yourself?”

“Because we’re still talking without our guns drawn. Words like could get you killed. You’re experienced enough to know that.”

Scarlet extends her arms out. “Or maybe there’s something else you just don’t know yet,” she turns her head down as she grins. “Maybe I’ve been toying with you this whole time?”

You eye her suspiciously, unable to gauge how much of her speech is drunk or genuine. But, between her half-bloodied nose and damaged appearance, you can’t see the slightest hint of sarcasm or humor— just a haughtiness and confident swagger emitting from the jet-black-haired woman.

Scarlet gets up, brushes back her unnaturally dark hair from her face, and gives out a heavy sigh. “I’m leaving,” she says to know no one in particular. “Goodbye, now.”

The man behind the counter rolls his eyes and grabs her empty glass to clean it. “That bitch is going to get us in trouble. The town must be in real trouble not to be just hiring contractors to do our outside work, but swelling our deputy **** must mean we’re really up the creek.”

“What’s going on?” You inquire, but he rants before he finally answers you. Turns out, there’s a sharp spike in crime, likely due to most of the **** runners and arms dealers leaving the northern section; why this year is more brutal than the last, though– the man is unsure. He looks at you and nods slightly, offering you a drink on the house and thanks you for not being a troublemaker. “Thanks,” you take and grimace. Delilah was unmatched in her mixology.