Chapter 5
Scarlett
I basked in the lingering warmth of our meeting as I walked along the mezzanine from Graham’s office. The taste of fresh coffee still lingered on my lips, a bittersweet reminder of how Georgia had bustled in with that carafe, her knowing smile acknowledging the intimate moment she’d interrupted between Graham and me. His cologne clung to my blazer where he’d pulled me close for one last, secret embrace before I’d left, the scent both comforting and dangerous in its familiarity.
Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting golden patterns across the polished floor that seemed to dance with each step I took. Below, the gentle hum of my team at work filtered up - phones ringing in the distance, the soft murmur of voices, keyboards clicking. It should have been a perfect morning. Even the weight of recent events felt lighter, cushioned by the memory of Graham’s touch, the way his fingers had traced my spine so reverently just hours before. Even with Drake and Brody sharing our bed, there was something uniquely Graham about the way he touched me, like I was something precious to be cherished, not just protected.
The sharp click of my heels against the floor echoed across the open space, and just like that, everything shifted. The steady rhythm triggered something deep inside me - not the measured footsteps I’d imagined that night, but the frantic staccato of my own heels on cement before everything had gone dark. Before I’d woken to searing pain and terror and the horrifying discovery of bite marks mapping my skin like a savage constellation.
Cool air from a nearby vent raised goosebumps along my arms as I gripped the railing, suddenly light-headed. The gentle office sounds below distorted, stretching and warping like a record played at the wrong speed. My throat tightened, the lingering taste of coffee turning bitter on my tongue. Through the window’s reflection, I caught glimpses of myself - tailored navy suit, perfectly styled hair, carefully constructed confidence. The image wavered, overlapping with memories of hospital gowns and that mousy brown wig, of eyes that couldn’t meet their own reflection.
The metal railing bit into my palms, its chill seeping into my bones. I could smell antiseptic now, sharp and medical, though I knew it was just a phantom from my memories. Below, my team worked on, oblivious to their director’s quiet unraveling above them.
“Ms. Swanson?” Walter’s gentle voice cut through my spiral, carrying with it the familiar, comforting scent of Earl Grey tea and leather portfolio. I hadn’t heard his approach over the rushing in my ears. His kind face swam into focus, crow’s feet deepening with concern as he studied me. “Are you alright? You went quite pale there for a moment.”
I forced my fingers to release the railing, flexing them to restore circulation. Managed a smile for the man who’d been such an unexpected ally through everything. “I’m fine, Walter.” My voice sounded steadier than I felt, each word carefully measured. “Just… readjusting.”
“Of course,” he said, in that way that meant he didn’t believe me but wouldn’t push. A warm breeze from the vent ruffled the papers in his portfolio. “I’m heading to see Graham, but would you like me to stop by your office after to catch you up on everything?”
“Please.” I appreciated how he made it sound like a normal work request rather than the wellness check I knew it was. The familiar scent of his tea grounded me, pulling me back to the present. “I’ll be going through emails until then.”
I stepped into my office, the heavy door closing behind me with a soft click that echoed in my bones. The silence that had once felt peaceful now pressed in around me like a physical weight, broken only by the gentle whir of my computer and the muffled sounds of office life beyond my walls. The air felt too thick, saturated with memories I couldn’t outrun.
I’d worked so hard to get here – fought my way up from that shattered woman in baggy clothes to become someone strong, someone who could command attention in designer heels and hold her head high. My corner office with its sweeping views of the city skyline stood as testament to my recovery. Yet now, even the familiar sight of my desk, with its neat stacks of papers and the small potted orchid Graham had given me, seemed to waver and distort.
The memories crashed over me in waves, each one stealing my breath. Felicia’s cruel taunts when I’d first returned, watching me with predatory eyes, waiting for me to break. The night of the second attack, when my attacker had found me again. The weight of the meat thermometer in my hand, the sickening resistance as I’d driven it into his flesh. I could still feel the sticky warmth of his blood on my hands, smell the coppery tang that had filled my nostrils. The same man who’d bitten and brutalized me that first time, who’d left me for dead…
My hands began to shake, fine tremors that spread up my arms like poison. The room tilted sideways, past and present bleeding together like watercolors in the rain. Maddy’s funeral procession flickered through my mind – the heavy scent of lilies, the cold drizzle that had soaked through my clothes, the fresh dirt on her grave mixing with memories of starched hospital sheets and the metallic taste of fear. Jenny was still out there somewhere, in the hands of monsters, and I couldn’t even keep myself together long enough to—
The edges of my vision began to darken, the world spinning like water circling a drain. I could hear my own breathing, too fast, too shallow, whistling between my teeth as my knees started to buckle. The plush carpet beneath my feet felt unsteady, as if the floor itself was shifting.
“Scarlett!” Graham’s voice cut through the darkness like a lifeline, and then his arms were around me, solid and real. The familiar scent of his cologne enveloped me as he caught me before I could fall. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”
My world narrowed to the steady thrum of his heartbeat against my back as he maneuvered me to the small sofa, his movements deliberate and professional for any watching eyes, but his touch conveying so much more. Through the fog, I heard him speaking quietly to someone – Walter, probably – his voice a low rumble I felt more than heard – asking for water and privacy.
“Breathe with me,” Graham murmured, settling beside me on the cool leather. Close enough for his warmth to reach me, but maintaining that careful professional distance for prying eyes. His voice dropped lower, steadying me. “Just like Sensei taught you. In through your nose, out through your mouth.”
The leather creaked softly as I tried to focus on his voice, on the steady rhythm of his breathing. Through the glass walls, fluorescent lights cast shifting patterns that made my head swim. I heard Walter’s quiet footsteps retreating, the gentle click of my office door, the soft clink of a water glass being placed nearby. Each sound seemed to echo in my skull, but slowly, the room stopped its nauseating spin. My hands wouldn’t stop trembling, though, fingers knotted in the fine silk of my skirt.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, the words scratching my dry throat. “I thought I was stronger than this now.” The taste of failure was bitter on my tongue.
“Hey, no.” Graham’s voice carried that gentle firmness I’d come to rely on, like an anchor in rough seas. “You are strong. Look how far you’ve come.” He paused, and I caught the subtle shift in his tone that meant he was trying to lighten the moment. “Though I have to admit, if you wanted to get me alone in your office, there are easier ways.”
A shaky laugh escaped me, surprising us both. The sound seemed to release some of the tension coiled in my chest. “I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”
“In all seriousness,” Graham said, his professional mask slipping just enough to let me see the worry etched around his eyes, “maybe coming back today was too soon. With everything that’s happened – Maddy, Jenny, all of it…”
“No.” I straightened, drawing on the strength I’d built over months of fighting my way back. The leather sofa creaked beneath me as I shifted. “I need to be here. I need to feel normal, even if it’s just pretending at first.” I managed a small smile, though it felt fragile on my lips. “Besides, I’d rather fall apart here where you can catch me than anywhere else.”
Through the glass walls, I watched April and Walter engaged in what appeared to be casual conversation near my door. Their bodies angled just so, creating a subtle barrier between my office and curious onlookers. The gentle hum of the office beyond continued, oblivious to the small drama unfolding in their midst.
Graham’s phone chirped softly as he texted Georgia, the blue light casting shadows across his concerned features. The familiar sound seemed unnaturally loud in the quiet office, every sensation still too sharp, too raw after my near collapse.
“I have a call with the CEO in a few minutes,” he said softly, his eyes meeting mine with such genuine concern that it made my chest ache. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I am now.” My voice was steadier than I expected, though my pulse still fluttered like a trapped bird in my throat. The urge to lean into him, to feel his arms wrap around me and shut out the world, was almost overwhelming. Instead, I maintained my carefully composed posture, though I allowed myself to shift slightly closer, our shoulders barely touching through layers of expensive fabric.
Georgia appeared with a crystal water glass, her heels silent on the thick carpet, her entrance as smooth as a summer breeze. The glass made a soft clink as she set it down, condensation already beading on its surface. Her gentle smile and quiet withdrawal were as practiced as a choreographed dance.
Graham stood, and I caught the subtle rustle of his suit jacket as he straightened it – that telling gesture I’d come to recognize as his way of centering himself when he wanted to touch me but couldn’t. As he moved past, the warmth of his presence lingered, followed by the whisper-soft brush of his lips against my hair – quick enough to seem innocent to any wandering eyes, long enough to steady my racing heart.
Walter and April settled into the visitor chairs, the leather creaking softly beneath them. The familiar scratch of Walter’s pen against paper filled the space as he detailed project updates and campaign metrics. His calm voice washed over me like waves on a shore, steady and reliable.
I rose on shaky legs, my fingers trailing along the polished surface of my desk for support. The cool wood beneath my palm anchored me as I took a deep breath, letting it out in a labored sigh that seemed to echo in my chest. I could do this. I had to.
But Walter’s words blurred together, becoming distant and hollow as my mind drifted to Jenny. Sweet Jenny, who’d looked up to me with such trust, who’d made me feel strong when I’d felt weakest…
My phone pinged.
The sound cut through the air like a knife, sharp and final. Unknown Number flashed across the screen, the blue light harsh against my eyes. My fingers trembled as I picked up the phone, ice crystallizing in my veins as some deep instinct already knew what I’d find.
“It’s you or her. One of you dies.”
The words burned into my retinas, but it was the image that followed that shattered my world. Jenny, my brave little Jenny, bound and gagged. Her terrified eyes stared into the camera, tears cutting clean tracks through the dirt on her face. A silent scream for help that tore through my soul.
The phone slipped from my numb fingers, hitting the carpet with a muffled thud that seemed to echo in my bones.
“Scarlett!” April’s voice sounded far away, distorted, as if I was underwater, drowning in memories and fresh terror.
Blood rushed in my ears like a roaring tide, drowning everything else. My fingers clawed at empty space, desperate for something solid to hold onto as the world tilted sideways. The taste of copper flooded my mouth as my teeth cut into my tongue.
A scream built in my chest, pressing against my ribs like a living thing trying to claw its way out. I swallowed it back, choking on the sound until my entire body shook with the force of contained hysteria.
“No, no, no…” The words tore from my throat, raw and primal. My vision tunneled, black edges creeping in like spilled ink. My heart slammed against my ribs so hard I thought they might crack.
My legs gave out, buckling beneath me, and I followed, knees cracking against the desk as my body crumbled. Pain shot through me, sharp and bright, but it felt distant, unimportant. My lungs seized, refusing to draw breath, and the metallic taste of blood bloomed stronger on my tongue.
Hands grabbed my shoulders—Walter’s familiar grip, I thought dimly—but I couldn’t focus on his face through the darkness crowding my vision. All I could see were Jenny’s eyes, wide with terror. This was my fault. All my fault. I’d brought this darkness into Jenny’s life, and now…
The blackness circled my vision like a hungry predator as a small, strained cry erupted from my throat, my own voice sounding far away, almost mocking me.
The world went black.