Chapter 22 For Her
For her
Michael
The day after Halloween, Scarlett's father escaped from prison, and she was the one who helped him.
Now, several days later, anxiety gnawed at her as she awaited his call, a call she had not yet received despite leaving him a burner phone.
The realization that he might have used her just to regain his freedom plunged her into a deep emotional turmoil.
But Scarlett wasn't acting erratically this time; she was simply enveloped in sadness and silence. She withdrew from everyone, refusing to talk, and had stopped taking her medication again. In response, the four of us temporarily moved into the church to keep an eye on her, but she absolutely despised it. At least, that’s how she portrayed it; it could have all been an elaborate act for all we knew.
As I settled in the corner of her room near the window, I found myself captivated by her every movement.
Each stretch, every yawn, and every shiver was on display for me.
She was using liquor to dull the ache of her unmedicated state, rendering her achingly vulnerable.
At that moment, I had never found her more alluring.
I craved her—yearned for her all to myself—but deep down, I knew that was a fantasy.
She was too entwined with Hunter and Kellin, and although Jax was less of a concern, he remained competition.
Suddenly, she rose from the bed and walked over to me, her lip caught between her teeth as her gaze bore into mine.
Heat surged through me, and I found myself unable to look away.
I beckoned her to sit, rubbing my thigh, and she slid onto my lap with effortless compliance, resting her head against my shoulder.
Her fingers danced along my other thigh, causing an electric pulse to strike through me.
"Look how good you are for me," I whispered softly into her ear, my warm breath brushing against her skin.
She nodded, her eyelids fluttering as her gaze momentarily rolled back.
As she began to move against me, she once again bit her bottom lip.
Dressed in nothing but a t-shirt that belonged to Saint, she wore nothing underneath.
Her curly black hair was tightly braided into pigtails that fell over her shoulders, giving her an innocent appearance, though she was anything but.
The only makeup she wore was a touch of mascara and some lip gloss, her skin glowing as if she’d been touched by light itself.
"You’re going to be a good girl for me and take your damn meds," I insisted, my hand sliding up the front of her shirt until my thumb found her clit, drawing a shudder from her body.
"Mich—"
"I’ll make you come first, but after that, you’re taking your fucking meds, or I will make you.
You’re better than this," I replied, my tone blunt and unapologetically honest. "This isn’t who you are.
" I pressed a gentle kiss to the back of her head, swirling my thumb, feeling the wetness that was already building between her legs.
Scarlett's breath hitched at my touch, a sound so sweet and fragile it made my heart race.
I tightened my grip on her, feeling her warmth seep into me like a balm for my own growing restlessness.
I needed to break through the haze that surrounded her mind, to bring her back to the surface and remind her of the vibrant, fierce girl she once was—before the world had tried to drown her.
"Please, Scarlett," I whispered, squeezing her tightly. "Let me help you."
She pulled away slightly, just enough to meet my eyes, a flicker of defiance sparking in her gaze.
I knew she was battling her own demons, weighing her desire for connection against the fear of further pain.
But she didn’t say a word; instead, she sank back against me, nuzzling her face against my collarbone, as if seeking comfort from my presence.
"Your father… he doesn't define you," I murmured, unconsciously rubbing my fingers against her thigh, tracing circles that sent shivers racing along her skin. "You're so much more than this moment—more than any of this chaos."
Her lips curled into a small, uncertain smile, but it quickly vanished. She shifted attentively on my lap, the conflict inside her palpable.
“Do you really believe that? That I can still be… me?” Her voice carried a tremor, hinting at the storm that raged beneath her calm facade.
“It’s who you were meant to be,” I affirmed, the intensity of my gaze holding hers captive. “This darkness—it’s temporary. You don’t have to face it alone. You have us, me, by your side.”
A quiet moment passed, followed by the tension of unspoken words hanging between us like an unsteady truce.
Then, to my surprise, she slumped forward, resting her forehead against my temple. “I don’t know how to trust anymore,” she admitted, her voice a mere whisper. “I thought he was different, that he’d stay out this time. I wanted to believe I could find a way to help him.”
“Your loyalty is admirable, but it’s misplaced,” I said softly. “You deserve better than a life dictated by someone else’s mistakes.”
Finally, she shifted again, stealing a glance over her shoulder towards the door as if assessing whether to invite others into this moment or keep it just for ourselves. The thought made my chest constrict.
“Let’s not talk about him right now,” she breathed, her fingers tracing patterns on my chest, igniting my desire and desperation. “Just… make me forget.”
Her request sent a rush of adrenaline through me.
I leaned in, brushing my lips softly against her temple, then her cheek, slowly making my way down to her mouth.
I captured her lips with mine, a blend of fierce hunger and restrained passion.
The kiss was slow at first—testing, teasing—before it deepened with urgency, both of us letting go of the uncertainties that had tethered us.
As my fingers continued their exploration, she melted into me, sighing softly against my mouth.
I wanted to be inside of her, so I undid my pants and she pulled out my cock.
I groaned and gritted my teeth as she stroked firmly, teasing me with her gentle movements.
Scarlett's eyes danced with mischief, a spark igniting within her as she felt my pulse quicken beneath her hand.
The tension in the air shifted, morphing from a heavy weight of despair to something electric, an urgent need that pulsed between us.
“Just a little more,” she purred, her lips curling into a wicked smile that made my heart race.
The innocence of her appearance juxtaposed with the audacity of her actions made my head spin. In that moment, I saw a glimpse of the fiery spirit that had been tucked away—the girl who didn’t shrink in darkness, but instead fought back with all her might.
But the battle raged behind her eyes, a turmoil of conflicted emotions. She might have been torn between wanting to escape her reality and relishing in this moment of raw connection, but for now, she was here—and that was enough for me.
I leaned back against the wall, pulling her with me, my hands finding their place at her waist as she began to ride the rhythm of her strokes—quickening them, losing herself to the rising tide of desire.
“Scarlett,” I warned breathlessly, trying to hold onto the last of my composure. “Don’t push me too far.”
A throaty laugh escaped her, laced with an intoxicating mix of defiance and joy. “And what if I do?” she challenged, her cocky grin brightening the dim room. It was a side of her I had missed—loud and dangerous, reminding me of the girl I once knew who danced recklessly on the edge of chaos.
“Then I won’t be responsible for what happens next,” I replied, leaning into her touch, subtly guiding her movements with my hips.
I could feel the tension building, our chemistry crackling like a live wire charged with electricity, but I knew I had to keep it together—we both did.
Suddenly, she leaned in closer, her breath hot against my ear as she whispered, “Then take me somewhere else. Somewhere far away from all of this.”
The honest longing in her voice tugged at my heart, igniting a protective instinct that surged within me. And in that breathy moment, I realized what I wanted to offer her was more than just an escape from her pain; I wanted to give her a chance to feel alive again, to reclaim her spirit.
I grasped her chin gently, forcing her gaze to meet mine, a seriousness creeping into my tone. “Then let’s make a pact. We both need to choose who we want to be. I won’t let you drown, and you won’t let yourself slip out of my reach. Do you understand?”
Her expression softened, the glimmer of rebellion still twinkling in her eyes. “Okay,” she said, tentatively, confirming our unspoken agreement as if it were a fragile promise.
I lifted her slightly, guiding her with my legs until she straddled me fully, her knees pressing into the mattress. Instinct took over as she gripped my shoulders, pushing down against me, her actions echoing the tumultuous feelings threatening to consume us both.
“A little more,” I urged, my voice low with need. “Just let go. Forget everything else. Just… us.”
At that moment, Scarlett surrendered. The weight of her anxiety and sorrow melted away, replaced with the sheer intensity of our connection.
The kiss we shared was more than a mere distraction; it was a declaration that no matter what lay ahead, we would navigate this tempest together.
It was a promise of resilience, of second chances, and the kind of connection that defied the darkness haunting both of our lives.
As the last remnants of tension ebbed between us, I felt hope blossoming amidst the chaos, rooting itself deep within my chest. She lost herself against me, surrendering to the moment.