Strength in Tears
Scarlett
As I drive home, the shock wears off and dread settles in. I just watched Callum kill Shane Elliot.
I don’t know what’s worse—the fact that I’m okay with it, or that I feel so numb. All the hate and anger I’ve felt toward Elliot feels different. Within hours, I went from finding out that it was my professor all this time, to watching him die.
I know that Callum has his secrets, I’m not naive to that. But there was something about the way that he flipped so quickly into someone else. Someone I don’t know.
I stare at the stop light in front of me, unable to look away. There’s blood on my shirt, Elliot’s blood. It must’ve transferred from Callum. I’m wearing Professor Elliot’s blood. The shed of Elliot’s blood isn’t just on Callum. I also did this.
I try to rationalize this. I remind myself of what he’s done. Even though he harmed so many women. It’s awful that he’s dead, right? I can’t convince myself. I don’t know if I can live in a society where we accept rapists and murderers. Wait—The Society.
I assume that Elliot must have been a part of The Society—his dad is one of the most influential investors in town. There’s no way someone that superior isn’t in an elitist society that is only for the wealthy and powerful. Callum has always hated Elliot. I bet he knows more.
I pull out my phone before the light changes and call Callum.
Even though I know that he’s cleaning up Elliot’s office with Harrison, I need answers. He picks up one the first ring. I hear his breathing before he says anything.
“Elliot, I need to know, is he a member?”
There’s a brief pause.
“Yes.”
I knew it.
“Was he still a member?”
“No.”
“Dammit Callum, I need more. I need—” don’t cry for him, “I need to know it wasn’t a mistake.”
“It wasn’t a mistake. You didn’t do anything, Scarlett. It was my decision, I did this. But if you need to hear that Elliot was a selfish bastard who raped many and likely killed two or more women, then yes… he deserved it.”
The tears that fall don’t represent my weakness, they represent my strength.
I don’t say anything. I keep driving home as we sit together in a comforting silence.
I pull into the driveway and put the car in park.
“Thank you.” I say softly.
“I’ll be by later,” is all he says before he hangs up.
I step out of the car and walk up to the front door. I stop before I open it to collect myself. I don’t want Dad to see me, not like this.
It’s still early in the evening. When I enter, I hear him working in the shop. It’s the only time in my life I’ve been thankful for him working late. I throw my keys on the table and go upstairs.
The shower always takes a minute to warm up, so I turn it on before I get undressed. I peel off my jacket, smeared with his blood. I look in the mirror at the person I’ve become, knowing now that my life will never be the same.
I step into the hot water and close my eyes as it splashes against me.
Visions from earlier flash in my head. If Callum didn’t come, Elliot would’ve succeeded this time.
That thought feels like a knife in my chest, causing pain I won’t let consume me.
Everything I’ve been working so hard for and everything I’ve fought for, it all feels wasted. My light feels dim.
I walk across the hall to my bedroom. I send Dad a text saying that I’m not feeling well and will be in bed. Sadness starts to settle in as I crawl into bed in my fresh pajamas. The pajamas that I washed, because my mom isn’t around, and she hasn’t been for so long.
There are certain times where a girl just wants her mom. Tonight, I long for her—just like I did four years ago. The sting of her absence sinks in.
I pull the covers over me and cling to the duvet, wishing I could get lost in it.
The sun sets behind my partially open curtains.
Warmth peeks in. At the end of the bed, I hear my phone vibrate in my bag on the floor.
I don’t want to get up to see who it is.
I roll over and fully submerge myself in the blankets.
I close my eyes and try to see anything other than what happened today.
I wake up an hour or so later to a warm body by my side. Callum. Instantly, I feel safe. He slowly opens his sleepy eyes as I rest my head on the pillow toward him.
“I needed to be near you.” His deep voice sounds so peaceful. I move my body closer to his. He releases a small chuckle of serenity.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
“I never want you to be sorry, not for this.” He’s quick to respond but his voice remains calm.
“I just, I’m not tiny, I practice all the time, almost every day. I fight men bigger than Elliot. I don’t just fight them, I win, Callum. But today, I wanted… I tried to-”
He grabs my face. “Don’t, Scarlett.” Tears fill his eyes. “You shouldn’t have to train to fight off a man who wants to rape you.” Hearing him say those words breaks down the wall I’ve been trying so hard to hide behind.
I quietly sob and he brings me closer. My salty tears land on his bare chest.
Sex is the last thing on my mind, but my body craves the connection with him.
“Callum—” I touch his torso.
His lips meet mine before I can finish, like a dance we’ve done a hundred times. Our bodies know their way to each other.
My hand moves down his to the top of his boxers. I can’t stop myself.
“I need to feel you.”
His hands trace my back, under my shirt. The hands that have killed for me run tenderly along my skin.
His hand lightly grips the base of my neck. He pulls back, and our lips part only for a moment.
“I’ve waited forever for you, Angel.”
How can someone exposed to so much hate, love so delicately?
His other hand caresses the front of my pajama shorts. He must feel the wetness growing as he teases me. I do the same and firmly press my palm against the outside of his boxers. I feel how hard he is for me and moan.
He grips the top of my shorts and pulls them down. With my tank top still on, his head moves to my chest.
My nipples harden as his fingers brush the outside of my shirt. He opens his mouth and sucks on my nipple, through the shirt. The warmth of his saliva against the fabric of my shirt forces me to push myself against his cock and rub myself against him.
He grabs my hips with his hands and forces me onto my stomach. I can hear him pull his boxers down as he straddles me from behind. I lie under him with my closed legs tight together. I try to rub them against each other for any sense of relief, but it doesn’t come.
He slides his left hand under my stomach and slightly lifts me.
My ass rises. He holds me there as he enters me from behind, forcing himself deep into me.
He hits a spot I didn’t know existed. My clit burns for him to touch it.
He slides in and out quickly, while his other hand comes down to my mid back, forcing my chest down.
“Fuck, Callum.” I moan.
He lifts his hand from my back and finds my hand near my head. Our fingers intertwine and he slips our locked hands down the mattress to my clit. His hand guides mine to rub it back and forth.
“I’m almost there, Callum.” I don’t know if he can hear my muffled cry as he takes me to the edge. I can feel it building inside of me, I’m so close.
“Callum—”
“Don’t move, Angel.”
His cock grows harder as he drives into me with more force. I fall apart as the built-up tension releases from me like a wave. Callum moans and rests his head on my back. I sigh and my body goes limp.
He lies down beside me, his head resting on top of mine. I want to stay like this and forget. It isn’t long before reality sinks in and I know that he probably has to leave soon.
“What did you do with the body?” I ask.
He hesitates.
“Callum, I don’t want any more secrets, please.” I know he wants to protect me, but I need to know.
“There’s a place at The Society for things like this. He’s been dealt with.”
“But how did you get him out? Did Harrison help you? Are you going to get in trouble? Maybe if you tell them he was hurting me... I can tell them, so you won’t get in trouble.”
“I want you to really listen to what I’m about to tell you, Scarlett.
These men, they don’t care. They don’t care about murder or rape or whatever crimes are committed.
They are loyal to one thing and that is themselves.
Never, under any circumstances, are you to trust any of them.
And they aren’t going to punish me because of who I am.
My Father would never let me admit to killing Elliot, that’s not an honour I’ll ever have. ”
In this moment, I’m grateful. I still have so many questions about The Society, but I know this isn’t the time to press. Callum has so many things happening at once—so much that he’s done, for me. Although he’s remained calm, I know he’s falling apart. His ego won’t let him show it.
We continue to lie together and pretend that this could be our reality.