39. Scarlet
THIRTY-NINE
SCARLET
Rhythmic beeping pulls me from a deep sleep. The deepest sleep I’ve ever experienced in my life. Almost like when I had my wisdom teeth removed, and they put me under.
There’s a pounding in my head, like a drummer trying his best to keep time with whatever’s beeping but failing miserably.
Where am I? The incessant beeping says the hospital, but the bed says luxury.
A groan works its way up my dry, aching throat as random bits and pieces—memories, maybe—flash through my mind, in dull, muddied sepia tones.
Work. Clint. Lunch. Needle. Dress. Knife. Blood. Ellis.
It all comes rushing back in full color, and a scream lodges in my throat as my eyes fly open.
“Hey, Princess,” Ellis says, rushing to my side. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re safe.”
“It’s over?” I ask, trying to lift my hand to my throat, only to find my range of motion limited thanks to a sling. I try my other hand. It shakes as I drag my fingers over my neck. “Really over?”
“Yeah, it’s really over.” He helps me sit up, fluffing my pillow behind me. “You want some water?”
I nod, but the motion makes my head swim. My brain feels like a piece of fruit caught in a blender. Utterly pulverized.
“Take it easy.” Ellis brings a straw to my lips. “Slow sips.”
It’s a struggle to wrap my lips around the straw.
“You have a split lip,” Ellis tells me. Makes sense, because every little movement tugs harshly on the skin there.
“What else?” I ask, hating how raspy I sound.
“Bruising. Swelling. Your, um, eyes are bloodshot. Probably from being choked. You have a minor cut by your eye and one on your chest. Patch thinks you have a mild concussion but wants to talk to you before making any official declarations.”
“Who?” I ask, vaguely remember a handful of men in leather vests.
“I work with him. He’s a medic and helped me get you home. He’s also responsible for all of this.” Ellis fans his hands out, and I finally look around the room.
“How?” I wince as I try to get my throat to cooperate. “I’m home?”
“Yeah, you’re home. He’s has access to, well, everything. He’s got you set up and has been monitoring you.”
“How long—” my voice cracks, but Ellis understands the unspoken have I been out, just fine.
“A few hours.” He gingerly lowers himself to sit next to me on the edge of the bed.
“What else?” I sound like a cartoon robot in need of oil. I hate it. I hate that any of this happened. I hate how weak I feel.
“Substantial cut on your forearm. Patch glued it for transport, but you’ll probably need stitches.”
Explains the sling and burning pain, I think bitterly.
Tears threaten to fall as my pity party ramps up.
“You’re not weak,” Ellis says, because, apparently, he’s developed telepathy.
“Didn’t say that.” I wince as my lips tug into a frown.
“You’re right.” He reaches out and smooths the wrinkle between my brows. “You didn’t, but your thoughts are playing out like a movie across your face.”
I flick my eyes away from him, glaring intently at the corner of the room.
“Don’t be like that, Princess.” His tone is pleading. “You’re so fucking strong. An absolutely warrior. Hell, maybe I’ll call you Xena—because you’re my warrior princess.”
“I love you, Sunshine.”
He groans a happy sound, almost a purr. “Say it again,” he demands.
“I love you.”
“I love you too, Scarlet. Every piece of me loves all of you. I’m so glad I pulled my head out of my ass and realized how absolutely amazing you are.”
I lift my unbandaged hand his way, and he slides his palm against mine, holding me softly.
“What about...” God, I don’t even know where to start... James, Atlas, Nora. His mom. My mom. Fefe. Work. Everything.
“Where’s my Sweetpea?” my mom’s familiar voice ricochets through the house. Guess that answers one question.
“In here, Stacey,” Ellis calls, just as she barges in, Heather hot on her heels with James in her arms.
“Scar!” he shouts, but my mom talks over him, in full on mama-bear mode.
“Look at you, my beautiful baby girl.” Her usually bright eyes are dull with worry as she takes me in. “Are you okay?”
I try to nod, but it’s every bit as uncomfy as talking. “I’m fine.”
She narrows her eyes. “Scarlet Louise.”
“I am. Or, I will be.”
“What happened?” she rages. “Who did this to you?”
“Scar! Scar!” James yells again, straining to get to me.
“I think I’ll take him to the kitchen for a snack,” Ellis’s mom says to the room before addressing me specifically. “I was worried sick about you, but I knew Ellis would bring you home.”
“Home?” my mom whisper-shouts, finally noticing my things all throughout the room. “Somebody better start talking.”
“That’s my cue,” Heather says, making her escape with James in tow.
I don’t even know where to start, and the thought of trying to explain it all is so beyond exhausting, all I can do is look to Ellis with puppy eyes.
“I’ll give you the rundown, Stacey,” Ellis starts, his hand never leaving mine—a detail my mother absolutely noticed. “But I’m gonna need you to listen without interrupting because the faster I can get it all out, the better for your daughter.”
“Yes, okay.” She mimes zipping her lips.
“Scarlet had a stalker. He was deranged and obsessed with her. When his behavior escalated, she came to me, and I convinced her to move in so I could keep her safe. Unfortunately, he had worked himself into several facets of her day-to-day life, even inserting himself into her workplace. She believed him to be a friend, and he used it to his advantage and kidnapped her. I, along with some guys I work with, was able to track her location via a GPS-enhanced necklace. Working as a team, we were able to neutralize the threat and bring her home.”
Mom’s eyes fill with tears. “My brave, strong girl. What can I do?” she asks. “How can I help?”
“You can sit.” I jerk my head toward the other side of the bed. “And tell me all about your trip.”
“Are you sure?” She lifts one perfectly threaded brow. “Things got pretty wild. There was even a nude beach.”
Ellis tenses beside me but wisely keeps his mouth shut.
“I’m sure, Mama. Distract me with tales of your debauchery.”
“But first,” Ellis says, standing. “I know a little fur noodle who would love a cuddle.”
“Yes. Please.” It’s dumb, but I was so worried I’d never see Fefe again, never get to stroke her soft fur or fuss at her for stealing, well, anything she can get her paws on.
Mom’s lip curls but she nods, resigned. “I’ll never understand your affection for that... thing.” She visibly shudders. “But anyway, let me tell you about Terry. He was the Staff Captain and is hung like horse...”
Much to Ellis’s horror, she spares no detail, telling story after story until my eyelids droop and exhaustion once again takes me under.
“You’re making great progress, Scarlet,” McKenna, my therapist says.
“Am I?” An inelegant snort rips out of me. “I’m just saying… because Ellis won’t stop treating me like I’m some fragile butterfly with a broken wing.”
“Give yourself—and him—some grace. It’s only been two weeks since you both experienced something deeply traumatic. Everyone copes differently.”
“I know, but...” My shoulders slump. “I miss the dynamic we used to have.” I miss his playfulness and sex.
I really miss sex, but Ellis is once again holding out on me—this time under the guise of not wanting to push for too much too soon.
I can’t seem to get him to understand that I need him.
If anything, his touch will help to erase Clint’s.
“I just want everything to go back to normal.”
“Have you communicated all of this to him?” She crosses her legs, waiting patiently for my reply.
“Not in so many words.”
She nods. “So maybe you could be more direct in asking for what you need.”
More direct... there’s a thought. “I can do that.” In fact, an idea is already forming.
“Great.” She snaps her fingers. “Oh, while I’m thinking of it, did you decide what to do with your townhouse?”
Slowly, I nod. “It is officially on the market.”
“I’m really glad to hear that. Same time next week?”
“Yes. Please.”
She marks the appointment in her tablet before writing it on a card. “Here you go.”
I always tell her the reminder text is sufficient, but she insists.
“You’ll notice I wrote the name of a book on the back. I really think you’d benefit from it.”
I flip the card over and note the title. “Thanks. I’ll check it out.”
We both stand and she walks me to the door. “As always, I’m only a phone call away if anything comes up between now and our next appointment.”
Ellis pops up when I enter the waiting room. “You ready?”
“More than you know,” I murmur, my mind fully on the plan I’m concocting.
“Good.” He wraps an arm around me and kisses my temple. “Atlas texted and asked if we want to get lunch.”
A sigh tries to escape me, but I manage to swallow it back. “You mean Nora forced Atlas to text.”
“Maybe.” He shrugs. “What do you want me to tell them?”
“Might as well.” My stomach grumbles like it’s a paid actor. “Gotta eat.”
“I was hoping you’d say that,” he says, grinning down at me. Clearly, he already agreed on my behalf. I want to be mad, but... seeing Nora and James is always a bright spot.
The thought sparks like a lightbulb. “You just want to see James,” I harrumph. Atlas may be his best friend, but Ellis is absolutely smitten with James.
“Guilty as charged.” He boops my nose. “And you do too.”
“Obviously.” My tone is completely unrepentant.
He laughs, and the sound wraps itself around me like a warm hug as we walk to his truck.
Those hours with Clint, when I didn’t know if I’d see Ellis’s face or hear his voice again, were some of the worst of my life.
But they also gave me a new lease on life, so to speak.
I’ll never take the little things for granted ever again.
Which is why him holding himself back from me hurts so much.
“So where are we meeting them?” I ask once we’re in the truck.
The tips of his ears go red as he fumbles around his response. “I... um.” He drums his fingers on the steering wheel. “They might already be at our house.”