19. Scarlet
Chapter 19
Scarlet
I’m careful not to snag my clothes on the exposed nails lining the narrow hallway. It’s barely wide enough for me to walk without having to turn sideways. The only light is coming from the cracks around the door seam up ahead. I’ve spent a lot of time making my way through these narrow passageways, learning each turn in order to move about the house freely. But tonight is different. The walls seem to be squeezing around me, and the air is heavy, making each breath harder than the last. There’s noise up ahead, and I should turn away, hide somewhere deep within the castle where no one can find me, but I can’t stop myself from moving forward. The closer I get, the clearer the sounds. There’s a muffled thud that repeats itself over and over like a bat hitting a rug. I move closer, careful to stay hidden behind the door, and press my ear against the wood. It’s then that I can hear the low groans that accompany each hit. It’s a pained, whimper sound that has every nerve in my body coming alive. I carefully shift so I can see through the minuscule crack and gasp. It’s me lying on the ground, hair splayed out around me and blood trickling from my mouth. My brother Christopher’s standing above me, screaming about how I’m a traitor and a dirty whore. That I sold myself to the Everette brothers. My copy stares up at him, defiance in her eyes, even as his foot comes slamming toward her. The image flickers, and instead of me getting ready to take the blow, Matthias is in my place. He’s sprawled out on the ground, collar chaining him to the wall and his handcuffs pinning his wrists together. That doesn’t stop him from spitting in my brother’s face, daring him to do his worst.
Matthias is so young and so much smaller than the last time I saw him. There’s fear in his eyes that I was too naive to recognize before, but that doesn’t stop him from antagonizing Christopher again, each time drawing all the attention to him and away from my door. A bat materializes out of nowhere into Christopher’s hand, and he swings it down toward him. It’s too fast, too hard. I push against the door, crying out for them to stop, when my father appears in front of me, a sneer on his face. Thick fingers wrap around my neck, and he hauls me off my feet, pinning me to the wall. I quake against his hold, scratching at his arms, but my father’s grip doesn’t loosen. He laughs at what a waste I am and how he should’ve disposed of me long ago, that pretending to love me disgusted him.
The air chokes from my lungs as I watch the hate burn in his blue eyes that match mine.
Those blue eyes turn black, and instead of disdain, they’re full of betrayal as Matthias screams at me for hurting his brothers. I struggle to speak, needing to explain that everything will work out in a minute, that he just has to wait. That I would never betray him.
Matthias won’t let go, his grip turning harder and harder, but it’s the tears in his eyes that have me going still. There’s pain written all over his face, and it’s directed at me.
He’s repeating the same words over and over again, but they don’t make sense. Wake up, Scarlet. Wake up!
I snap awake, shooting up into a seated position as I gasp for breath. I haven’t had that dream for several years. Tears burn my eyes as I force myself to count to ten over and over again until some semblance of sanity returns to my body, allowing it to take over itself again. I pull my knees to my chest, my cream sheets surrounding me as I try to work through the feeling of helplessness, reminding myself that it was a long time ago. I’m not that girl anymore, and my brother and father are dead.
Cool air raises goose bumps along my arms. The window on the far wall is cracked open, the latch undone. I search the room, but I’m alone. There’s not even a shadow out of place. Dropping my chin against my knees, I sigh, then force myself out of bed. I must have opened it at some point last night.
A chill rolls through me as I pull myself out of bed and close it tight, locking it firmly in place.
I check the clock at the blaring green numbers announcing it’s 4:00 a.m. Too early to go to work, too late to go back to sleep. The feeling of helplessness is still weighing heavily on my mind as I crack my neck back and forth, grabbing a pair of leggings and a hoodie from my dresser. I’m not that girl anymore. If that same thing happened today, I’d have my father squirming on the floor and my brother between the sights of my gun.
I shove my feet into the stretchy black legging fabric. There’s only one thing that’s going to stop this haunting feeling.
I send Oliver a quick text, knowing when he wakes up, he’ll lose his mind when he finds out I’ve left the house without him.
Pulling my hoodie over my head, I let it drop over me, making me look bigger than I am before I step out into the cool night. My sneakers are silent as they tap with every stride across the paved sidewalks. The entire area is washed with the orange glow from the overhead streetlights that disappears into pure blackness between the houses.
I breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth, tempering the rhythm of my heart. I’d discovered running as a form of therapy shortly after everything went down. It’s like I quite literally got my wish to escape, and there was nothing holding me in place. The freedom I feel while my feet thrust me forward at a pace most people can’t keep up with provides me with an unexplainable thrill. I’m sure it’s similar to the adrenaline skydivers get, but for me, it’s the freedom each step provides me. Unfortunately, it’s become my own form of addiction. More than once, Oliver has caught me pushing my one-hour run to two, chasing the high that the long distances push through my veins. Sometimes it feels like I’m running toward someone, like if I can just push myself a little faster, I’ll be able to grasp onto them.
Other times, I want whatever’s chasing me to catch up, to wrap me in their arms and force me to finally be still. To finally feel safe enough to not have to flee anymore.
It’s those times I know I’ve lost it because no matter what, I know no one can make me feel safe like that. It’s completely left to me.
And I’ve done a great job honing my small body into something dangerous. Something that can kill without a thought. If it wasn’t for my small stature, I’d have nothing left to fear, but no matter how strong I become, how fast I am, there’s always someone bigger and faster out there.
My heart rate’s a steady beat as I make my way out of the residential area and onto the main road. It’s lined with stores, the lights still off in the early hours. I’m concentrating on the darkened glass so much I almost miss the large silhouette that steps out in front of me.
My feet slide to a stop as I halt my forward momentum, my hand immediately pulling out my pepper spray from my pouch and holding it at the ready.
My pulse is pounding in my ears, and any control of my breathing is shot with the sheer adrenaline coursing through my veins. The person blocking my path is big, at least a few inches taller than me. I’m still debating whether I can take him or if I should take my chances running when he steps into the light, showing his familiar face.
I take a step back, still hesitant. “What are you doing here?”
“I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m just waiting for the cafe to open.”
Jeremy’s the guy I went on a single date with prior to Liam. I honestly thought we’d hit it off, but he’d ghosted me from that point on. It should’ve been a blow to my self-esteem, but if the guy’s willing to ghost me, I have no time for them anyway.
The sign on the cafe door says it opens in five minutes. It’s not completely out of the question that us meeting here is just a coincidence and he’s not a complete stalker. After all, he’s the one that stopped calling me.
It’s the hairs still standing tall at the back of my neck and the pit in my stomach that has me still on edge.
“Do you live around here?” I ask, feeling out the situation. If he does, then I’m probably just overreacting.
“Not far.” He takes a step closer, and alarms go off in my head.
Something’s not right.
I plaster on my most disarming smile. I just need to get out of this situation, and then I’m good. “It was good seeing you, but I’m going to be off now. Got to keep up my run.”
I take a step to the left, fully intending to cross the road, when he says, “I had fun with you that night. It still doesn’t sit right that someone could stop us from getting to know each other before we really gave it a shot.”
My brows pull together as I try to make sense of his words. “What do you mean someone stopped us?”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. I was so bruised I could barely walk for a week.” His tone has dropped low; any of the friendliness from before has vanished, replaced with aggression.
I study him as he stands there waiting for my reply. The lights cast a halo around him, face half in shadow, half exposed. There’s a hardness to his jaw, a muscle ticking in his cheek that gives his intentions away. He has no intention of letting me go.
My grip tightens around my pepper spray, ready to spray this fucker in the face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but you need to go.”
“Don’t be like that. I thought we’d be a good fit together.”
“Thanks, but I’ll pass.”
Any pretense of friendliness drops from his face, and his eyes grow cold. “Listen, I never wanted to date you in the first place. He said I just needed to get you alone.”
A chill crawls up my neck. “Who said?”
“This job is way more trouble than it’s worth.” Jeremy’s voice is drowned out by the sound of squealing tires coming around the corner.
A familiar blacked-out sedan hops the curb and stops feet away from us, causing my potential assailant to jump back. I don’t have time to question Jeremy further before Oliver stands between us, his entire demeanor on edge. He’d actually look scary if his hair wasn’t rumpled like he’d been dragged out of bed.
“I didn’t do anything.” Jeremy sounds frantic as he stares at my significantly larger bodyguard. There haven’t been many situations where he’s had to step in, but he definitely comes in handy when he does. Jeremy looks at me, pleading. “Tell him, Scarlet. We were just talking.”
I ignore him completely because even though we were just talking, he’d made it clear his intentions weren’t innocent. “Oliver, I had it handled.”
I need to find out who he was talking about, and I need to do it fast. I’m not surprised there’s someone looking for me—after all, I’d be a great catch—but hiring someone to collect me is going a bit far.
My guard’s mouth drops open. “You shouldn’t have been out here.”
“Relax, I brought pepper spray. He was so close to getting a face full of it.” I shrug. Honestly, I expected Oliver earlier. I guess it makes sense—it was still stupid early when I texted him.
“You bitch!” Jeremy yells, and I shake my head.
“Really not the time, Jeremy.” Well, now I’m officially happy this guy ghosted me. He’s a complete psycho with an obvious death wish.
I’m pretty sure if I don’t do something soon, Oliver is going to off him in the street, and how the hell am I supposed to explain that?
“Take me home, please. My run’s ruined anyway,” I say with a smile, Oliver’s glare not affecting me at all.
He’s all bark and no bite.
It’s only after I get into the back seat of the car that I put the pepper spray away and watch through the window as Oliver warns him off. Whatever he says has Jeremy nodding and slumped forward, almost like a disciplined dog.
Oliver gets in and doesn’t say a word, clearly going for the mature silent treatment.
“I’m fine,” I say, not ready to talk about what Jeremy had revealed. I need a few more pieces before I’ll be ready to deal with this situation. Oliver’s worked for me for years, but I learned long ago that there are some things I need to take care of myself.
His eyes glance back through the rearview mirror before looking forward.
Okay, so I probably shouldn’t have done that, but it’s not like I wasn’t prepared.
It’s the pounding of my heart threatening to break my ribs and the way I have to clench my trembling fists that gives away the fact that I wasn’t as safe as I’m pretending I was. That a simple misstep could’ve let that guy get too close. I clench my teeth and push that thought away. I’m not that girl anymore. Let them get close—it’s better for fighting technique that way. What I lack in size and reach, I more than make up for in speed and technical skills.
I drum my fingers on the windowsill, already feeling better when suspicion seeps in. “How did you know where I was?”
Oliver stiffens, his hands tightening on the wheel. “Just a guess.”
I close my eyes as the sun turns the sky pink. Damn good guess.