29. Scarlet
Chapter 29
Scarlet
What the hell was I thinking? I can’t wrap my head around the fact that I’m married to cold-as-ice freaking Matthias Helios Everette . The man is frustratingly confusing, switching from cold to hot like it’s the most natural thing in the world. The last day felt like jumbled dreams. I can’t believe I almost had sex with him, only for him to drug me and handcuff me to his bed.
Nothing about this makes sense. What he says now and what he’s shown me for the last decade don’t add up. He basically told me he thought I was nothing but Laurent pond scum. Unfit to be his friend. Proceeded to avoid me completely for years, but then he forced me to marry him?
The worst part is I’m not even sure how I feel about it. The sad little fifteen-year-old, heartbroken girl in me is ecstatic. She’s practically jumping for joy that this man is finally paying attention to us. It’s the same twenty-five-year-old that knows it’s not enough to just mess around a few times. That it doesn’t guarantee my heart won’t end up shattered. That being said, marrying me is going pretty far if this is all just some big game.
I just wish I had a clear sight of what’s happening.
Frustrated, I force myself to stand and make use of my time alone. I’d watched Matthias leave with his brother, giving me the perfect opportunity to search the place and try to figure out a way out of here. There’s a large oak dresser along the far wall, the finish gleaming in the bright sun. It doesn’t look new though—someone must have taken great pains to fix it up. The drawers slide open easily, the tracks switched out to modern bearings, but it’s what’s in them that surprises me.
Neatly folded clothes fill the rectangle space. I pull out a shirt, surprised to see it’s from one of my favorite brands. I’m a little pissed that I didn’t check earlier since I was forced to wear the dress he gave me. A little voice had whispered to go out naked like he’d threatened, but I’m not sure I could have handled the punishment for that.
Not to mention the guilt from the bloodshed it would have caused.
I dress in a white eyelet shirt and a pair of jean shorts that fit me perfectly. Everything about this place seems to match my style, from the decor to the perfectly curated wardrobe.
I’m not sure if that’s creepy or sweet.
Dammit, creepy. Definitely creepy…Right?
I slide my fingers over every windowsill—no harm in double-checking, just in case. There are alarm systems set up for each one, so there’s no chance I can break it without everyone knowing. I glance out the window over the long field, where guys with semiautomatic weapons patrol. Not that I’m worried that they’ll shoot me; what would be the point in that? I hate to admit it but… if I’m being completely honest, it’s kinda nice knowing the area is protected.
I’d spent years learning how to protect myself, and it’s gotten me out of trouble. Still, having help is a feeling I’m not quite used to.
Not to mention, I went from the frying pan into the fire. Somehow, I managed to avoid one marriage only to end up married to one of the most powerful men in the Order of Saints.
Not that I’ve ever cared about his title; to me, he’s still that boy, bruised and bleeding, staring at me like I was going to be the last happy thing in his life. I’d protected him then; I shouldn’t be surprised he wants to protect me now.
There’s nothing in the hallway that can help me get out of here, so I search the kitchen.
No surprise there’s nothing sharp stocked in here. He’s underestimating me with the dull knives though. It’ll take some time without a whetstone, but I’m sure I can sharpen at least one. I open a cupboard, and I’m not sure if I should laugh or roll my eyes that all the glasses and plates are plastic. This man is not leaving anything up to chance when it comes to arming me.
I’ll give him credit for that. I’ve spent my entire life taking advantage of being underestimated.
There’s buzzing from the counter, a black phone I hadn’t noticed lit up. I grab it just in case there’s anything useful, and I’m surprised to see a text from Matthias.
Matthias: You’re wasting your time searching the house.
I spin to search the place but don’t spot any cameras. Sneaky asshole.
Me: Stop watching me. Perv.
Matthias: Stop being stubborn, and put the knife back.
I laugh. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy. I slam the knife into the drawer.
Me: Happy?
Matthias: With you? Always
A knock on the front door has me spinning on my heels. Matthias wouldn’t knock, and I can’t for the life of me think who it’d be.
I don’t have time to open the door before Oliver’s standing in the doorway. His undereyes are dark, like he hasn’t slept for days.
I’m still pissed at him, but he may be my only shot out of here. He’d definitely be the only one willing to go against my husband.
“Thank you for what you did earlier. You aren’t in too much trouble, are you?” I ask, nervous that he’ll pay a price for being on my side.
“I’m fine. Your husband seems to have a soft spot for you. Please don’t complain about me, or I won’t survive.”
“I’m sure he wouldn’t actually kill you.”
“He absolutely would.” He huffs out a laugh, then steps to the side, letting a man through beside him. I recognize him as Dr. Clark, the same one who set me up with an IV a few days ago. Apparently, he’s on retainer for whatever the Everette family wants.
Oliver pushes the doctor forward until he’s standing fully in the entry. “You have a visitor. Try to go easy on him.”
He’s dressed in business-casual clothes, like he’d rather be on his yacht. “How are you feeling today?”
“Like I was drugged and kidnapped. How about you?”
He looks at the ground but doesn’t try to do anything to help me. “I’m Dr. Clark. Matthias asked me to do a workup on you.”
“You aren’t coming anywhere near me.” I stumble back, catching myself on the chair.
“It’s just a simple checkup. Please let me do my job.”
The doctor’s voice shakes, and I sigh, taking pity on him. “Fine.”
“Please sit.” He gestures to the chair, and I take a seat.
He approaches warily, keeping his movements slow. He holds up a black cuff. “I’m just going to check your pulse.”
I hold out my arm and watch out the window. The entire thing feels intrusive. It’s one thing to go to a doctor when something is actually wrong; it’s a total other thing to have my husband randomly send one. I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to calling him that. After all, it’s not too late for an annulment.
The doctor runs through a few standard tests, his fingers trembling when he places the stethoscope to my chest. I’m not sure what he thinks will happen to him, but I’m not going to jump up and attack him. It’s not his fault he was dragged into this mess.
“You are in perfect health.” He starts loading up his bag faster than should be possible.
“What’s all of this about anyway?” I ask.
He tilts his head. “Standard check when you’re trying to conceive.”
“I’m going to kill him.”