Chapter Seventeen #2
It would be good for Scarlett to have a friend, a support system outside of me.
I won’t always be at the compound to protect her, and during the times when I need to leave, it’d be nice to know that there’s someone with her who’s invested in her wellbeing.
That said, if Max is too invested in her wellbeing…
Fuck. He needs to get himself a woman—he needs to be next in the lineup for the ritual, the choosing. That’s the only way I could ensure he’d be too distracted to become too interested in my Scarlett.
Scarlett sits in my bed, buried beneath the covers, with only her injured arm and head sticking out. It’s warm in here, but she’s shivering despite the duvet and two blankets cloaking her. I think the adrenaline crash is messing with her, not to mention the burn on her arm and the concussion.
I despise that I wasn’t with her in that field, protecting her. She’s mine to protect and no one else’s. I’ve already failed her in so many ways, and today, I failed her again.
She’s facing away from me on the bed, so I round it and take a seat beside her.
When I see that her eyes are red-rimmed and there are tear tracks on her cheeks, my heart sinks straight into my stomach.
I stroke a few strands of her hair back from her face and cup her cheek.
She exhales a shuddering breath, eyes fluttering closed, and leans into my touch. My heart skips a beat.
I know I shouldn’t read into it. Right now, Scarlett’s so in need of comfort she’ll accept it from anyone, even me. But as her warmth sinks into my skin and burrows into my soul, I know I won’t be forgetting this moment any time soon. If her need for comfort gives me a way in, I’ll fucking take it.
“How’s your arm?” I ask.
“Hurts,” she murmurs, leaning further into my hand. “This helps. I need a distraction.”
Another breath shudders from my chest. “Do you want me to leave?”
She considers it for several beats, blinking open her eyes to stare at me. Finally, she shakes her head. The gesture is slow, almost sorrowful. As if she wishes she would be her normal self, letting me know just how much she despises me, but she can’t quite manage it. “No. Stay.”
“Alright.”
I slip into bed beside her, swallowing as I gaze at her.
For the first time since I got her back, I feel…
hesitant. Her usual strength is stripped away, leaving behind nothing but her vulnerable core.
I’m used to her combative, witty personality, used to constant resistance.
When she’s her normal self, I simply stick to a schedule and make sure she obeys.
But right now, she’s something else, and I don’t know how to handle her.
I carefully lay my hand on her shoulder, above the bandages covering her burns.
She stiffens a little but doesn’t move away.
I give her a moment to get used to my touch, then slide my hand to her waist and wrap it around her.
I burrow close, spooning her, and her soft, feminine curves mold so perfectly to my body, it’s a marvel.
She’s so small, absolutely tiny in my hold.
I could probably span her waist with both hands.
“I hope you know, I do hate you,” she murmurs, her shivering slowing down. “But right now, I need someone. I can’t always do everything alone, but God, I wish I could.”
I guess whatever injection the doc gave her is really loosening her tongue. I’m tempted to take advantage of it.
“Why do you feel like you have to resist me?” I ask her quietly.
“I know what I did to you was… unfortunate, but I’ve proven that I won’t hurt you again.
I’ll do a lot to you, Scarlett. I’ll sometimes treat you like my toy.
I’ll play with your body in whatever way I like—and I’ll make sure you get a fair bit of enjoyment while I do so.
I’ll punish you harshly, but I won’t hurt you. I fucking adore you.”
“How could I give into you?” she asks quietly. “You remind me too much of my father. Sometimes, when I look at you, I see him.”
A mixture of anger and pain tighten my chest. I don’t realize that I’ve, in turn, tightened my hold on Scarlett until she lets out a small yelp. I quickly readjust and press a kiss to her neck. “I’m not your father,” I remind her, trying to keep my tone patient. “Do I act like him?”
“You’ve hurt me worse than he ever has.”
My jaw clenches, and I’m grateful that she can’t see my face or my expressions, but even now… my patience with her resistance is slim. “Why did he hurt you, Scarlett?”
“For my original sin.”
Her words jog my memory. She said something similar to me, many months ago, when she was still trapped in one of the annex’s cells.
“And what sin is that?” She doesn’t reply; I give her waist a warning squeeze. “What sin, Scarlett?”
She swallows. “For being born a woman.”
Jesus Christ. I can’t imagine Scarlett as a child, living in a house with a man who was angry at her for having the gall to exist. Who beat her, hurt her, scarred her, traumatized her in ways that can never be undone. I want to help her heal, but I don’t know how. So, I press onward.
“Why did I hurt you, Scarlett?”
She pauses for a long moment, then says, “Because you thought I played a hand in your brother’s torture and murder.”
“And have I hurt you since?”
She pauses for several long moments. “Yes.”
“I didn’t know you were a virgin,” I remind her yet again. “If I had known, that night would’ve gone down differently. What did I do as soon as I found out?” When she doesn’t reply, I answer for her, “I made you feel good. Now, have I intentionally hurt you since I pulled you out of the annex?”
“Intent doesn’t matter,” she murmurs. “Only results do. And we both know what the results are.”
My jaw tightens until I hear it crack with strain.
I carefully maneuver her around, forcing her to face me, and cup her face in both of my hands.
“I’m not letting you go, Flower. You could beg me, bargain with me, try everything in your power…
and it wouldn’t change my mind. I’m a selfish man, and you’re mine.
I won’t share you with the world. But, if you let me in, I would be so good to you.
” I lean forward, touching our foreheads.
“I’d be so goddamn good to you, Scarlett.
If only you’d let yourself be mine… and take me to be yours. ”
“You’re not proposing a marriage, Monster. You’re proposing unending ownership.”
“A life in which we own each other,” I emphasize. “I may have the power, but you… you fucking own my soul, baby. Why can’t you see that?” I sigh. “Why won’t you just… give me a chance?”
“Depriving you makes you at least a little miserable. That’s just about the only power I have left.”
“No,” I disagree. “You could choose to make both of us happy. You could decide to give me a chance to right my wrongs. To give us a chance.” I stroke my thumb over her bottom lip.
“Scarlett… you have to know there’s something between us.
A connection. Even if you don’t like it, you must feel it.
” She swallows and averts her gaze. “Look at me and tell me you don’t feel it,” I tell her.
She reluctantly returns her gaze to my own. “I feel it,” she admits quietly. “It’s something twisted and sinister. It’s like a tugging sensation, but really, all it represents is my descent into an eternal hellscape.”
“You’re wrong,” I insist. “It only feels that way because you won’t let me in even a little. I’m a bad man, Scarlett—I’ll be the first one to say that. But I won’t be bad to you.”
“The things you do to me…” she trails off, shaking her head. “They’re just an example of how you torture me. You might not be hurting me anymore, but it’s torture all the same.”
“It’s training,” I correct. “And, sometimes, punishment. Now, look me in the eye and tell me you haven’t found those experiences erotic.”
“I don’t find being tied up and degraded to a plaything erotic,” she snaps.
Even as she says the words with conviction, her eyes hold a flicker of doubt, of deception. “Liar.”
“Fuck you!”
“Even if you don’t stop lying to me, there’s a point where you can’t keep lying to yourself,” I say harshly. “You’re as fucked up as I am.”
“I would never do what you’ve done.”
“Wouldn’t you?” I ask sharply. “You poisoned a cup of tea and watched me drink it. Then, you told me that I could either forfeit my claim on you or die.”
“I didn’t have a choice!”
“You always have a choice, and I’m giving you one now.
” I grip her chin, angling her head so she’s forced to hold eye contact.
“Give me a shot, or you will only ever be a plaything. I don’t want that, Scarlett, and I don’t think you want that either.
Give us a chance, or you’ll make yourself into the eternal toy you’re terrified of becoming.
” I release her chin and get out of the bed.
I only have about an hour before my meeting, and I plan to spend that time at the gym, working off some of my irritation.