(Sequel to Two Gangs and a Golden Girl)
***
"If you even think about touching me, I will literally rip off your arm," I growl when Xavier prowls closer. He doesn't stop. His poison green eyes drill into mine.
"I will have you, Marigold, and we will...
Paul walks over to the dead girl and turns her body over. I want to tell him to leave it, but he looks so sad while scooping her up.
"Jack, go help Paul take care of the body. Do what you have to. Hack your way into finding out if she has family," I order.
"I'll do so," Jack says before he's off with Paul.
"Daniel, go clean the mess," Nessa says.
"I'm getting a drink," Daniel snickers before he's off to the liquor cabinet. Nessa shrugs and follows him. She looks like she could use a drink as well.
Alone with Marigold, I look down at the golden universe. Her hair is almost completely back to that rich blonde color and her skin has picked up a tan, but the oceans in her eyes have turned grey. Like the color of a cloudy day.
"How dare he," Marigold whispers.
"What?" I ask.
When Marigold looks up, tears are threatening to run down her eyes, but they stay put. "How dare Blake hold my life over this girl's? How dare he force me to live with the knowledge that because of me, someone is dead," she rants. "I've already had enough of that," she adds.
"It's not your fault," I reason.
"Oh really?" Marigold asks. The grey clouds in her eyes are replaced with a storm. "My uncle's heart in my chest is not my fault? Matt and Calvin dying is not my fault? Lynch dying or my cousin leaving or even this girl is not my fault?"
I pause. "No... It's mine," I answer.
Amber stops glaring at me and her look turns soft again. "Don't be ridiculous, you're only trying to save the world. Everything that's happened was just-"
"My fault. I've accepted it," I reply.
We both go quiet. Marigold standing there with her wild hair. Me standing here with my neat style. The smell of blood fills the room. But somewhere through that, I smell wildflowers and paint. Somehow in this fucked up world, good is still breathing.
"The man that became a monster, so he can save the world," Marigold sighs. "How the world will write stories of you."
I stay quiet.
"Stories of how hated you were," Marigold adds, "Even though all you ever did, all you've ever sacrificed was for this ungrateful world."
I don't consider myself an emotional person, but right now, Marigold's words are crawling it's way through my armor. I find myself so grateful for this golden universe. Not for only being the person she is, but being the person that through everything she's been through, still takes the time to look at others. Look for the good.
"You do realize what Blake's actions mean now?" I ask to change the subject.
"What?" Marigold asks.
"Freedom," I answer.
"Free-dom," Marigold says to test the syllables on her tongue.
"We'll have to find you a disguise. And we'll probably have to get out of town for a bit. Just a day or two so Jane's spies don't find you." I explain.
"Well," Marigold says, " I've always wanted to dye my hair white."
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