Cruel Me

Chapter 35: Can't Pretend

"Sorry to hear about Frisco."

Sudden rush of anger flashed in me.

"He's in a fucking coma," I spat.

Scout sighed and looked down. We were at the parking lot of the hospital, in the dead of night. Alfie leaned on the back of Kurt's truck, his arms crossed as he scowled at Scout. The cold didn't seem to bother him. He was too pissed off.

Like me.

"Your boy Finn got out of jail last week." I watched Scout Crimson closely as I laid him this information. "Know anything about that?"

His head snapped up, eyes wide.

"What?"

Guess he has no clue.

"Yup," I nodded. "He got bail, and then this happened." I shrugged, cocking my head to the side. "Call me paranoid but that sounds too much of a coincidence, don't you think?"

"No, he wouldn't," he defended, crossing his arms.

"You thought he was a saint just last month," I pointed out icily. "Are you seriously telling me you don't believe his fucking ass can do shit like this? You can't be that stupid."

His jaw clenched, his eyes hardened, and his hands balled into fists.

I could tell he wanted to hit me. I thought by this time, he wouldn't be blinded by their fake friendship anymore. Maybe he thought there was still hope in Finn McKinley.

Maybe there was, and I was wrong with my assumptions. But what if I was right? He should open his eyes to the cruel reality of that possibility.

"Cut the blind loyalty, Crimson," I told him.

He raised an eyebrow. "Do you have proof?"

A smile that didn't reach my eyes appeared on my lips.

"That's why you're here. You said you wanted to help us, remember? Here's what you can do to 'help.'" I took a step forward. "Track down your so-called fuckface best friend. We need to chat about a couple of things."

Scout stared at me thoughtfully for a minute or two.

"So what's it gonna be?" I asked. "I promise not to kill him on sight."

He frowned and pointed to me. "I'll do it, if you promise to let me talk to him first."

I would've disagreed if he didn't look pretty damn determined. But I was asking him a favor. I needed him on my side, even for just a little while.

I gritted my teeth. "Fine."

"If he's guilty," he paused, lowering his hand, "you'll let the cops handle it."

I kept my mouth tight shut. No way in hell was I gonna make a promise I knew I couldn't damn well keep.

"What the fuck are they doing here?" growled Alfie.

I glanced at him. He looked furious, his jaw tightening the longer he kept his eye on the other side of the lot. I followed the direction of his eyes and saw Cameron Wood and Jay Lawley walking our way. I found myself repeating Alfie's statement.

Scout's forehead creased as he watched them approach us.

"Guys?"

"We heard," said Cameron, looking down and holding on to his crutches. As far as I knew, there were only a couple of weeks left for those. Then, he was good for therapy.

He should be thankful his chipmunk ass ended up only getting crutches – unlike Frisco who almost fucking died.

Lawley rubbed the back of his neck uneasily. "Frisco's a nice guy, even if he runs with the wrong crowd," he added, glancing at us. "He doesn't deserve this."