Twenty
Scarlett
I slowly pull onto Dr. McAllister’s street, just in time to see his car back out of the driveway and head in the opposite direction. Relief floods through me; I had assumed he would be at the University, since it’s Friday morning. I decide to park a few houses down, staying out of sight.
Taking a deep breath, I pull out the paper I printed last night. The layout of the house is sketched in my mind thanks to the blueprints I found online. I can’t afford to waste any time, I don’t want to be here any longer than necessary. With a final glance at the map, I tuck it back into my bag and step out of the car.
The cold air bites at my face but I ignore it, focusing instead on the task ahead. My heart is pounding; not out of fear, but out of determination. This has to be quick and clean. I check the street again, making sure it’s clear before making my move. Each step toward the house feels like a countdown, every second bringing me closer to the truth I’ve been seeking.
Looking both ways, I sneak to the side of his house, coming up to his large wooden fence. Fuck. The fence is taller than I expected, and my heart races as I realize I’ll have to climb it. I glance around, making sure no one’s watching, then take a deep breath and start my ascent. The cold wood bites into my hands, but I push through the pain, determined to get inside.
As I reach the top, I pause, listening for any sounds from the house. Silence. I swing my leg over and drop down on the other side, landing hard on the frozen ground. Ouch, I stumble as my ankle rolls painfully. My breath comes out in visible puffs as I crouch, taking in my surroundings. The backyard is eerily quiet, the only sound is the crunch of snow under my boots as I move toward the back door.
I reach into my pocket and pull out a credit card, something my dad taught me to use for this exact purpose. Sliding it into the door’s crack, I jiggle it gently, feeling for the latch. With a satisfying click, the door unlocks. I push it open slowly, slipping inside and closing it softly behind me. The warmth of the house hits me, but I barely notice. My focus is on the task at hand, every sense on high alert.
Dr. McAllister’s house is immaculate, everything in its place. I find myself in a cozy mudroom with neatly organized shoes and coats hanging on hooks. To my right, the spacious kitchen gleams with stainless steel appliances and granite countertops. I move quickly through the living room, noting the sleek furniture and tasteful artwork, but not letting them distract me. The blueprints I memorized last night guide me.
The house is eerily quiet, except for the faint hum of the refrigerator and a soft crackling sound. My heart skips a beat—there’s a fire burning in the fireplace. Why would there be a fire if no one is supposed to be here? He will probably be right back, which escalates my timeline. I follow the layout in my mind, heading directly to the office. Each step feels like an intrusion, but I push the guilt aside. I have to know the truth. I reach the closed door at the end of the hallway. This has to be it.
I open the door slowly, my breath catching in my throat. The office is dimly lit, the fire casting flickering shadows on the walls. As my eyes adjust to the darkness, I see him. Dr. McAllister is sitting behind his desk, his eyes locked onto mine with a sadistic grin spreading across his face.
“Well if it isn’t my little slut come to play.” His voice drips with a darkness that sends my heart racing. I quickly turn to leave but he’s faster, rounding the desk and grabbing my arm so tightly that I’m sure he’ll leave marks.
I cry out but the sound is strangled as he slams me against the wall, his face inches from mine. His eyes are cold and empty, devoid of any emotion. “Let me go, you bastard!” I struggle to get away from him but his grip tightens, making my eyes water.
He chuckles darkly. “Oh, we’re going to have some fun, little whore. You came to me, remember?” I whimper, fear coursing through my body as he drags me to the desk and shoves me on top of it.
“Please... no,” I plead, but his laughter echoes through the room.
“You can beg all you want, but we both know you love it. My son wasn’t enough for you and you needed a real man, right?”
I try to kick him, to fight back, but he overpowers me, pinning me down on the desk. His hands roam over my body as I struggle, but it’s no use.
The feel of him touching me makes me want to vomit. I hate this man for what he’s done to my career, and now he’s about to take something else from me.
“Please don’t,” I beg again, and he just laughs.
“You know you want this, you dirty fucking whore. And I’ll make sure you’re begging for it before we’re done.”
“Never.” I rasp, but he slams his hand over my mouth.
“Shut up, bitch. You don’t get to talk right now.” Tears stream down my face as he reaches for his belt and pulls it off, wrapping it around my neck and using it to hold me down. Panic swirls through me with what happened the last time I had a belt around my neck. I can already feel myself tensing and gasping for air that seems so far out of reach.
“We’re going to have some fun, like you did with Whit. I know all about your kinky fantasies and I’m going to give you everything you want, little slut.” I feel him unzip my pants and pull them off me roughly, his hands roaming over my skin. I try to scream, but the sound is muffled by his other hand. Has he been watching us? Me?
I can’t believe this is happening to me. “That’s right, cry for me, little whore. It’s going to make this even more fun.” I feel his hand between my legs, and I try to close them, to keep him out, but he forces them open.
His fingers are cold and rough as he starts to explore me, and I can’t stop the tears from falling. The leather of the belt is tight around my neck, restricting my breathing.
“I bet you’re wet for me already, aren’t you?” His voice is a cruel whisper in my ear. “You like being treated like the little slut you are, don’t you?”
I shake my head, but he just laughs and continues to touch me.
He slams his fingers inside me and I bite my tongue to keep from crying out. The pain is intense, and I feel like I’m being ripped in two. He pumps his fingers in and out of me, his thumb rubbing against my clit.
“You know, I paid someone to leave in my car so I could trick you into thinking it was safe to come in. You see, I’ve been following you, my sweet Scarlett. I know your every move, your every desire. And now, I’m going to take what I want from you, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me. Since he got your pussy first, I think I’ll take this juicy ass.”
He unbuttons his pants and pulls out his hard cock, stroking it as he watches my face. “I’m going to fuck your ass, and you’re going to beg for it.”
I shake my head again, but he just laughs and pulls me to the edge of the desk.
I take the opportunity to bite his hand as hard as I can.
“You fucking bitch!” he yells, pulling his hand away.
I take the chance to scream, “Help! Please help!” But he just slaps me across the face, the pain reverberating through my skull.
“No one can hear you, you stupid whore. Now shut the fuck up and take it.”
He pushes me back down hard, face first on the desk, tightening the belt around my neck. He leans in close to my face, his breath hot on my skin. “I’m going to make you scream, Scarlett. You’re going to beg me for more.”
Stars begin to dance in my vision as he pours cold liquid down my crack. I close my eyes when I feel him pressing into me, and the tears fall freely. He’s stretching me, filling me. The pain is excruciating, and I can’t help but cry out. He just laughs and pushes deeper, his fingers digging into my hips. He slams all the way in and I know I’m being ripped apart. I can feel myself tearing, and the blood dripping down my thighs.
“You’re so fucking tight, Scarlett. I can’t wait to fill you up with my cum.” He groans, picking up speed.
I hear a faint crashing sound, then Whit is in the office with us.
“Get the fuck off her, you fucking bastard!” he yells, yanking the man off of me and throwing him to the floor.