16. Scarlet
SIXTEEN
SCARLET
I grab my bag and trudge toward the bathroom, feeling like I have anvils strapped to my ankles, desperately weighing me down. My legs shake with the effort, each step harder than the last.
Sweat dots my hairline by the time I finally make it to the end of the hall. I’m momentarily shocked by how clean his bathroom is—I’m talking immaculate—but the tears come as soon as I start the water, turning it as hot as I can bear.
“You’re okay,” I sob, hissing as I step beneath the scalding spray. “You’re safe.”
But it’s no use. I’m unequivocally not okay.
Sinking to my knees, the water pelts me as I completely and utterly break.
At least the sound of the shower will drown out my sobs.
My shoulders shake violently as my thoughts spin, round and round, much like the water circling the drain.
“Get a grip.” I dig my fingers into my scalp until I can’t take the sting another second.
I’m spiraling. I know I am. But I don’t know how to stop it. It’s pathetic, really. All I’ve ever wanted is to be, well, wanted, and now that someone finally does, they’re a psycho stalker.
Story of my fucking life. From my dad to making friends to men, I’m somehow always either too much or not enough.
Except for with Nora, who just so happens to be my first—and only—real friend.
By all counts, she should hate me the same way Atlas does.
The same way Ellis does... or did... I don’t even know anymore.
But somehow, she doesn’t, and I’ll treasure her friendship for as long as she’ll let me.
Because one day, it will come to an end. I’m sure of it. All good things do.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” I can feel my chest expand with every inhale, but I can’t seem to actually get any air. It’s almost like…
I can’t breathe. Why? Why can’t I breathe?
My fingers claw at my throat, as I try—and fail—to take a full breath.
Knock, knock. The sound of Ellis thumping against the door momentarily distracts me from my panic.
I try to reply, but black dots dance along the edges of my vision, and I sway forward, smacking my head against the tile backsplash.
“Scarlet!” he shouts my name, but he sounds so far away. “Answer me or I’m coming in.”
I open my mouth, but all that comes out is a garbled cry.
The door flies open and Ellis rushes to me. “Fuck, Princess.”
He turns the water off, and suddenly, I’m shivering. My teeth chatter and my body shakes as I curl in on myself in search of warmth.
“I’m gonna wrap you in a towel, okay?”
I think I nod. Maybe.
Suddenly I’m not as cold anymore.
“Scarlet.” A callused hand brushes along my cheekbone. “Are you with me?”
I roll my head back and look up. Ellis’s brows are drawn, and his lips are pressed into a hard, thin line. Why’s he upset with me?
“You’re having a panic attack.” He moves his hand from my cheek to cradle the back of my head. “I want to help you—can I help you?”
I blink, and he settles himself on the edge of the tub.
“Remember on the phone. Five things you can see. Let’s go.”
“I can see you,” I whisper, hoping the water from the shower at least hides my tears. “And the bathmat.”
His fingers flex against my scalp. “Keep going.”
I rattle off a few more things.
“What can you feel, Scar?” He holds up four fingers, lowering one for each thing I name.
“You,” I whisper. “Your ring.” I suck in a stuttering breath. “The water. The tile.”
“You’re doing great.” He’s lying. I know he is. I’m a mess and wish like hell a hole would open up in this tub and swallow me whole. “What can you hear?”
I strain my ears, listening for anything other than his voice and the sound of my heart whooshing in my ears. “The tv. Um…”
“Keep going, Scarlet. Two more things.”
“You breathing and…” I work my way through the rest of the exercise, all the while trying to fight off the mortification burning through me at the thought of Ellis seeing me like this.
Will he think I’m pathetic? Of course he will, the insidious voice in my head whispers, who wouldn’t?
My entire body shakes as the temperature of the room cools the water coating my skin.
“We need to get you out of here, okay? You’re freezing.”
“Oh-okay,” I say, my teeth clacking together.
“Do you think… do you think you can stand up on your own?”
I glance up at Ellis, half expecting to see judgment on his face, but there’s none to be found. If anything, he's looking at me like he understands.
Which I guess makes sense, because I’m sure he saw some shit while working as a cop.
“I think so,” I say, as I try to push myself up, only to immediately lose my footing on the wet tile floor and fall back, smacking my head against the wall of the shower—again.
“Fuck, Scar. Are you okay?” Worry paints his every word
I shrug, and the towel slips a little.
“Can I help you?” he asks, suddenly sounding unsure.
My pride's already in the toilet, so what's it matter at this point? “Sure.”
Ellis momentarily hesitates before sliding one arm around my shoulder. “Gonna reach under you,” is all the warning I get before he has me cradled against his chest, lifting me out of the tub, as if I weigh nothing at all.
He lowers me to the floor, and I immediately push my toes into the soft bath mat, gripping his shoulders for balance while simultaneously squeezing my arms against my body to hold the towel in place.
“You good?” he asks, his voice rougher than I’ve ever heard it, like sandpaper against my chilled skin.
“Yeah, um... I'm good. Thank you.” I focus my gaze on my pink polished toes, refusing to look at him. “If… if it’s okay, I just want to dry off and get dressed.”
“Of course,” he says.
“I'm sorry.” I nearly choke on the words as shame clings to me, intermingling with droplets of water still coating my skin.
“You don’t have any-damn-thing to apologize for.” He gives me a long look, his eyes never once dipping below mine.
The urge to flee—to put this town, my stalker, this whole fucking ordeal, in my rearview is strong. But I’m an adult, with responsibilities here. Not to mention, Nora would never let that happen, and Atlas would kill me for hurting her.
So I suck it up paste on a wobbly smile I don’t really mean. “I'm good, promise.”
He casts me a doubtful look and huffs. Clearly, he knows I’m full of it.
“You have five minutes, or I'm coming back in,” he says, his voice nothing more than a growl. And then he stalks back out into the hall, leaving me blessedly alone.