Chapter Forgotten Roses
Forgotten Roses
Scarlett
It’s just after dinner and it’s already dark outside. My computer screen lights up the room. I need to finish this assignment. Although it’s not due for another week, there’s still more research to be done for my Early Developmental psychology paper.
I shift in my desk chair and hug a leg against my chest. I’m not sure why, but I find myself thinking about him, again.
It feels out of character for me, but as soon as his mouth landed on mine, I wanted more.
There’s something about Callum Mercer that I’m drawn to, but there’s a part of him that feels restricted and off limits.
My phone buzzes on the nightstand. I reach over and grab it.
Callum: Come outside.
I look out my window—I don’t see his car. Within a few seconds, his Jaguar creeps down the street. How did he know I was home?
Scarlett: Why?
Callum: Don’t make me ask twice.
I smirk as I read his text.
Who the hell does he think he is telling me what to do? I should stay here just to show him he doesn’t control me, but instead I shut my laptop and go downstairs.
As I put my sneakers on, Dad sits on a lounge chair in the living room and watches TV.
“I’m headed out for a bit, Dad, don’t wait up for me.”
“Okay, honey. I love you.” He looks up from the TV. I walk over and give him a tight hug.
I grab my keys and purse—even though he’ll notice that I don’t take my car.
The porch light is already on as I close the door behind me.
I see him parked a few houses down and pray that he doesn’t pull up in front of mine.
The last thing I need is Dad finding out.
Even though I’m an adult, he still worries about me.
I walk by the hood of his car and see him reach across, opening the passenger door from the inside.
Well, isn’t that chivalrous of him. I fight a smile as I duck and slip into the seat.
“My dad would love your car.” It’s the first thing that comes out of my mouth. I feel like I owe him an explanation. “He loves fixing up older cars, but he has a sweet spot for a newer sports car.”
He doesn’t respond. Instead, he just looks at me, his eyes turning dark as the interior lights fade.
“Put your seat belt on.”
“Why, are we going somewhere? I thought you were just stopping by to say hi,” I say, with sarcasm. I reach and pull the belt across me.
He smirks and shifts the car into drive.
My eyes scan the inside of his car. The leather of the seats feels stiff and new.
I could taste smoke after we kissed, and I saw him smoking on the balcony at the party, so it doesn’t shock me to see a pack of cigarettes and a lighter in the center console.
Otherwise, there’s nothing personal in here.
It’s like he walked into his garage and picked a car from the many his parents own and just hopped in it.
Although, I know that’s not true, I’ve only seen him drive this car to school.
The headlights pierce through fog as we head toward campus. I look over at him. He’s got one hand on the wheel and the other on his gear shift. His car is automatic, but it’s almost as if he had a manual before and the habit just stuck.
He doesn’t look nervous. There’s a calmness about him I wish I had.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
He doesn’t take his eyes off the road. “There’s a few different places on campus that not many people know about.” I look out the window.
“But you do?” His head turns and peers at my reflection. I turn to him quickly, hoping our eyes meet. Instead, I’m met with his side profile.
Why won’t he look at me?
“Something like that.”
He has both hands on the steering wheel now. We don’t say anything else. The silence is comforting. My hands are cold, so I put them under my thighs for warmth. He doesn’t face me, but he reaches for the button to turn my heated seat on.
It’s dark and I can’t see much. His car slows as we pull into an area I’ve never been. It’s still on campus, almost on the edge of town. As we get closer, I see a small, worn building with the vines crawling up its sides.
“What is this place?” I lean closer to the dashboard to try and get a better view.
He puts the car in park and turns it off.
“Do you trust me?”
This catches me off guard. I’m not sure. My gut tells me no but what comes out is, “Yes.”
Finally, our eyes meet. He slowly moves closer to me, like friction is pulling him.
Without breaking our eye contact, he places his hand on the door behind him and slides out.
He walks in front of the car and opens my door, like he’s done this a hundred times.
I get out. He shuts it and heads toward the darkness.
I follow him. Although the lights from his car remain on, I still can’t make out what this place is.
When we reach the building, he rattles the knob and shoves the wooden door with his shoulder.
He’s definitely been here before. The smell of soil and moss overwhelm me.
Callum reaches up and pulls on a string for a light to flick on.
A yellow bulb faintly shines, just enough that I can make out the room. It’s a greenhouse.
“What is this place?” I walk over to a bench with a terracotta pot on it, running my finger over its broken edges. As I keep walking, the smell changes, now an elegant, honeyed spice. Its sweetness is familiar. Up ahead, I spot at least a dozen red and pink rose bushes.
“This place has been forgotten about, abandoned. No one tends to them anymore.” His voice is low as he walks over to the other side of the table I stand in front of.
“But you do.” I look at him. He must. He rubs a petal between his fingers.
“I wouldn’t have picked you out as a flower guy.”
His eyes meet mine, like they are trying to tell me something.
“I’m not, but these ones were left, forgotten. They shouldn’t have made it. But with the right help they thrive. It’s hard to explain, but they survived when they should’ve died.”
I know he’s referring to more than just the flowers. “Like you.”
He looks at me for a beat and leans back against the table, his hands on either side of him.
“I could sit here and blame it all on shitty parents, Scarlett, but I’m the one who makes bad choices. I can’t blame anyone else for what I’ve done.”
“You don’t have to blame anyone else Callum—you were raised in a house where you weren’t shown how to be loved. It’s your parent’s job to show you, to teach you.”
“It’s not like that Scarlett, not for most people. You fight for your legacy, not what you believe in. You don’t get a choice. Your only choice is to survive, and sometimes the price of that is yourself.”
“I don’t know what that’s like, so I won’t lie to you and tell you that I get it. My dad loves me unconditionally and supports everything I do. My mom is a different story, but—”
“Tell me about your mom.” He interrupts.
“Um, she is,” I sigh. “She’s the opposite of my dad.
She left us, for a life I’ll never understand.
It was before high school. I knew things were changing between my parents.
I knew they were drifting apart... but she just became someone that I didn’t recognize.
” I take a second to peek at the flowers, finding comfort in their smell.
“I know she works at the steakhouse in town, but truthfully... I think she’s an escort.
I’ve heard things and people have told me that they’ve seen her out before.
I don’t know if Dad knows. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overshare. ”
“You deserve better.” His voice is low, almost angry. Our eyes lock. His jaw stiffens as he steps forward. I feel embarrassed.
I look down at the flowers, their sweetness draws me in. “It is what it is,” I say. His footsteps get closer.
He stands in front of me and his hand grabs my jaw as his eyes meet my glossy sight.
“That doesn’t make it right, Angel.”
For a minute, my breath picks up. I can feel my heart in my stomach. His hand remains gripped around my jaw. “That doesn’t make it right for you either, Callum.”
His face tenses, like he’s fighting something deep within.
“Every time I feel nothing, I take something from someone else. Their breath. Their fear. Their control. I don’t want to take anything from you.
” He slightly squeezes my jaw. My breath hitches.
“I’ll ruin you.” He rests his forehead against mine, so delicately.
I shouldn’t want him. There are so many versions of him that I don’t know. But why does none of that matter?
“I’m already broken.”
That does it for him. His hands rest on either side of my face and his mouth melts into mine.
My hands find the front of his jacket, pulling him closer, but he’s not close enough— I need all of him.
My mouth opens for his tongue while his hands run through my hair. He grabs my head and pulls it back.
“Let me ruin you.” He whispers.
His lips hover above mine.
“You already have.” His lips land back on mine, more aggressive this time. For a second, he pulls away, brushing me off to the side while his arm pushes the broken pots off the table. They hit the floor; their crash startles me.
He lifts me by my ass and sets me back on the dirty table.
His hands work their way up the outside of my shirt until he aggressively pulls it down, exposing my chest. His mouth salivates as he looks at me and flicks my hardened nipple, back and forth against his thumb.
He places his warm lips on my neck and works their way down my breasts.
With each kiss, he breaks me a little more.
I can feel myself getting wet and shift my hips forward, trying to find some relief on his cock against the seam of my jeans. My head falls back. It’s ecstasy.
“Fuck.”
I reach for his mouth on mine. My tongue traces the outline of his lips. His Adam’s apple bobbles as his lips graze my ear.
“Take these off.”
I unbutton my jeans and pull the zipper down.
He grabs them at the waistband and pulls them down my legs, peeling away the only dignity I have.
He rubs his knuckle along the front of my thong before he pulls my underwear down and exposes me.
He slides two fingers in, cradling my clit.
His fingers swirl back and forth. I bring my lips to his, but he pulls back, not letting me kiss him.
He moves faster against my clit, stops for a second, then positions his fingers down, plunging into me.
“See how wet you get for me?” He unleashes something feral in me. I move my hips against him, faster.
While his hand fucks me, I reach down and undo his belt.
I unzip his jeans and pull them down, leaving him in his boxers.
My hand trails down his stomach and slides into the top of his underwear.
He sucks in a deep breath. I grab his hard cock and work my hand up and down his shaft, at times running my finger over his tip.
His ass flexes. I quietly moan. He pulls his hand out.
His thumb caresses my cheek before he shoves his fingers, with my wetness still on them, into my mouth.
In a swift motion, he uses his other hand to pull his boxers down.
“I can’t hold back anymore, Scarlett. Say you’re mine.” He looks down at me, his hard dick against my wet entrance. He removes his fingers from my mouth.
“I’m yours.” He leans forward and slowly pushes his cock inside of me.
“Who do you belong to?”
He briefly pulls out. “Oh, fuck.” I need all of him. His palms lie flat on the table as he braces himself around me.
“Scarlett, who do you belong to?” He asks again.
“You Callum, you. Just you.” He shoves himself into me—it’s better than anything I’ve felt before. As he leans forward, he rests his forehead against mine and plows into me, over and over. Strangely, there’s something sweet about him being so vulnerable.
“Oh, God.” I moan.
He slows down, running his nose runs over mine, and brings his hand up to my neck.
“I’m the only one you worship now.” He pushes into me—faster, harder. My climax builds. Sweat runs down my back. I grab his ass, and he squeezes my neck harder.
“Callum, I’m going to–” He bites my lip, cutting me off. Blood enters my mouth as he slams into me one last time.
“Fuck, Scarlett.” He lets out a deep moan. The pressure inside of me releases as I finish with him.
Our chests rise and fall in sync as we catch our breaths. His thumb brushes over my lip, where he bit me.
“You bleed so sweetly for me.”