Gabriel eyed Tristan for several long seconds. “Right.”
“So, you can start looking for the fountain again if you want. But I’m still going to pursue my plan.”
Gabriel kept his eyes narrow a moment longer before finally nodding. “All right, then. I’m going to start reaching out to our old contacts and see if anyone has any new information on the fountain. Starting with Nate.”
Tristan nodded.
Hopefully, Nate would keep his mouth shut and not give Gabriel any details about Tristan’s plan. The last thing Tristan needed was Gabriel interfering.
Gabriel turned to head back into the cabin.
Before Gabriel was out of earshot, Tristan asked, “How are her eyes?”
He didn’t look at Gabriel as he walked back to his shooting post.
Gabriel turned back around and fiddled with the stick in his hand. “Blue.”
Tristan lowered his bow, looked at Gabriel, and waited.
Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Normal blue,” he clarified. “She’s still healthy.”
Tristan swallowed.
For now.
Soon, though, Scarlet’s eye color would intensify, signaling the end of her life. Her eyes would become an electric blue and hope would be lost.
His palms started to sweat. “We still need to hurry.”
Gabriel nodded and headed back into the cabin.
Tristan concentrated on the large tree in the distance as he lined up another arrow.
Tonight, he’d have another chance. Another opportunity to kill.
Tonight, he could not fail.
Whoosh.
Bull’s-eye.
Time was running out.
15
The next suspicious Gabriel sighting didn’t occur for another two weeks and Scarlet was beginning to think her doubts about Gabriel had been ridiculous. But her fears came back to life when Heather dropped into a seat next to her before first period and said, “Gabriel’s up to something shady.”
Scarlet looked up. “Not again, Heather.”
“No, I’m serious. Didn’t he tell you yesterday that he couldn’t hang out because he had to work on his English paper?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I saw him. Right after school. In the warehouse district.”
The warehouse district was considered the ghetto of Avalon. But Avalon had a population of only two-thousand, so “ghetto” was a bit of a flexible term. Either way, it was strange for anyone, especially an Avalon High student, to be in the warehouse district at all.
“What were you doing in the warehouse district?” Scarlet asked, putting her pencil down.
“Getting my nails done. Duh,” Heather said, like Scarlet was supposed to know her friend went to the slums to get pedicures. “But I saw him, Scarlet. And he was definitely not working on his English paper.”
“What was he doing?”
Heather leaned forward. “He was talking to some weirdo in an abandoned building.” Heather blinked. “An abandoned building. Who chit-chats in the warehouse district?”
“Who gets their nails done in the warehouse district?” Scarlet retorted.
“You’re not taking me seriously, Scarlet. Gabriel is hiding something.”
Scarlet paused, thinking of the possible reasons Gabriel would meet with someone in an old warehouse.
She thought of none.
“There has to be some reason why—“
“He’s shady,” Heather interrupted. “I’m telling you, Gabriel is up to something. He’s dealing drugs or selling organs on the black market or something. He’s bad.”
Scarlet’s heart started to pound.
No. Gabriel couldn’t be bad.
He didn’t feel bad.
…Did he?
Scarlet furrowed her brow, confusion seeping into her chest. “No.” She slowly shook her head.
“Why else would he lie about working on his paper? Why else would he lurk around a creepy warehouse?” Heather tapped her freshly-polished nails on the desktop.
Scarlet shook her head again. “It just doesn’t feel righ—“
“Good morning, ladies,” Gabriel said, entering their first period. “Hey, beautiful.” He leaned down and kissed Scarlet’s cheek before taking the open seat on the other side of her.
Scarlet wanted to say something to Gabriel. She wanted to ask him a million questions.
But she wasn’t sure if she wanted to know the answers.
“Hey, Gabriel,” Heather said, slowly. “You weren’t by any chance in the warehouse district after school yesterday…were you?”
Scarlet shifted her eyes over to Heather, hoping to halt her friend’s investigation. She wasn’t ready to hear Gabriel’s answer. She wasn’t ready for him to lie to her.
Gabriel swallowed and waited a beat. “Nope.” He shook his head. “I had that English project thing.”
“Oh.” Heather shrugged.
The bell rang, signaling the beginning of class and Scarlet turned to look at Gabriel.
His eyes were buried in his notebook as he opened to a fresh page.
Why would he lie?
16
Several weeks passed and Scarlet couldn’t seem to shake her feelings of distrust.
No matter what she did, no matter how wonderful Gabriel was, there was always a sense of suspicion gnawing at her insides.
Seated across from Heather in the school library thinking about how little she really knew Gabriel, Scarlet doodled on her notebook. She repeated the familiar symbol, over and over.
Doodling helped her think.
“I don’t know where Gabriel lives.” Scarlet stopped sketching and waited for her best friend to respond.
Heather didn’t look up from the magazine she was flipping through. “Yeah, that’s weird.”
Scarlet bit her bottom lip. “And I’ve never met any of his family members.”
“Nope.”
She sighed heavily, succumbing to what her instincts told her. “Gabriel’s hiding something from me, isn’t he?”
Heather looked up. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. Gabriel Archer is a hot delicious man of mystery. And, possibly, a mobster.”
Scarlet leaned her head back. “I don’t want a man of mystery. Or a mobster. I want a regular high school boyfriend who invites me over to meet his pets and look at his baseball card collection.”
“Baseball cards? Really? Gabriel’s seventeen, not twelve. Do people even buy baseball cards anymore?” Heather went back to flipping through the magazine. “You know what I think? I think he owes you. I mean, you told him about your amnesia thing right?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, that’s super personal. It’s like the biggest secret you have. And you shared it with him. And he was cool with it. I think the least he could do is confide in you about…oh, I don’t know…his address.”
Scarlet didn’t regret telling Gabriel about her amnesia because that’s what girlfriends and boyfriends did. They confided in one another.
But she wished Gabriel trusted her as much as she had trusted him. “You’re right, Heather.”
“Yes, I am.” Heather grabbed a new magazine to peruse and glanced at Scarlet. “B-T-W,” she didn’t fully pronounce the ‘W’ but instead shortened it to dubb, “those earrings don’t match that top.”
Scarlet touched a finger to the hoops she had on. “You know what I need to do?”
“Buy new earrings?”
“I need to fully embed myself in Gabriel’s life. I need to get to know the real Gabriel Archer.”