Scarlet's Torment (1)

by Krihstin Zink

  Once the appetizers are put out, we crowd the kitchen island to enjoy Violet and Milton’s delicious creations. Violet barely eats, since she’s keeping a watchful eye on the stove. Benjamin dispenses glasses of red. Kim rattles on about how much she loves Naples. Elizabeth continuously nods at Kim. The guys discuss the horrific motorcycle accident from the news.

  “Oh, that’s just awful,” Violet chimes in as she drains the pasta. Milton joins her to fold the noodles into the shrimp and pesto mix. We watch as they toss the pasta into a large serving bowl. Elizabeth places serving utensils into the bowl right as Milton walks the bowl to the outdoor dining table.

  “Everything’s ready, if you could just grab your glasses,” Benjamin instructs as he gestures us outside. Violet grabs the salad bowl then directs her gaze at Kim.

  “Sweet pea, could you grab that bowl of breadsticks next to the stove?” Violet inquires. Kim obliges by hastily retrieving the breadsticks. Benjamin takes his place at the head of the table, with Violet on one side and Elizabeth on the other.

  I sit next to Elizabeth with David next to me. Milton sits next to Violet with Tim on his other side, leaving Kim next to David. We chat and enjoy our pasta, salad, and breadsticks. Kim’s appetite must have kicked in because she spoons a second helping onto her plate. We converse well into the night. Hours later, we take all our dinner items indoors.

  “Whaaat a looo-ve-ly faaamily dinnnner…” Elizabeth slurs with a weary gaze. Violet gapes at me, her eyebrows tighten. I shrug then gaze with shock at Benjamin.

  “Maybe we should call it a night, Elizabeth?” Benjamin suggests sweetly as he relieves Elizabeth of her plate.

  “Maybe…” she says curtly as she takes a seat to observe the rest of us clean up our dinner items.

  “Thank you for dinner, Violet and Milton. It’s so nice to see everyone,” Elizabeth announces clearly with strain. Her daytime drinking is catching up with her—exhaustion covers her face. After everything’s returned to its place, Benjamin and Elizabeth thank everyone—they practically rush us out.

  “Weird,” Milton says as we all stand outside my parents’ home.

  “Well, it’s only eight. What time are you guys leaving tomorrow?” Violet searches our face for a response.

  “It’s approximately a five-hour drive, so we need to be on the road by 9:00 AM,” Tim replies.

  “Where’s your car, Scarlet?” Violet questions with wide eyes as she searches the area.

  “We walked,” Kim answers for me.

  Violet and Milton decide to stay over, so they load into Violet’s car, then drive away. We decline their offer and enjoy the darker-than-expected walk home.

  The day felt long, and I’m ready for bed. I wasn’t the only one because, once we walk in, Violet informs us she’d have a busy day tomorrow. Milton and Violet wish us a good night, give us all hugs, then walk hand-in-hand to Violet’s room. David and I follow their lead by wishing Tim and Kim a good evening.

  “Do you plan to shower?” David questions once we’re alone.

  “I want a…long. Hot. Bubble. Bath,” I say as I run my fingers through my hair. David disappears into the bathroom—I hear the tub fill. I slowly walk to my closet to remove my shoes and clothes emerging completely undressed. As I walk in, David’s undressed and stepping into the tub. I join him in the scalding hot water—it scorches my bottom. He wraps his arms around me as we sit in silence and stare as the water fills the tub.

  We chat until the water grows cold. Before I release the drain stopper, I grab two towels. I turn to David, but he snatches away our towels. He drapes the towels over the tub, then kisses my neck. His kisses smother my skin from my lips, to my neck, to my nipples.

  He massages my apex as I surrender to his manual manipulation. Without effort, he places me on the bathroom counter. I recline and relish as his tongue lashes an attack on my apex.

  My thighs shudder on David’s shoulders as he continues to languidly stroke me. A familiar heat begins to rise, my back arches as I release a necessary moan before I achieve my bliss. I close my eyes and inhale deeply as he enters my center. I wrap around his midsection, holding on to whatever I can.

  David’s rhythm intensifies—our throats release our lust for one another. One of his arms holds me up, the other is caressing all over me—he’s caused a sexual trance. My inner flare burns, builds, throbs, and tortures my entire being. His rhythm grows faster, harder—he releases a growl of completion. Hearing his ecstasy encourages my completion. Without any injuries, we collapse onto the bathroom floor, panting, sweating, and completely spent.

  David starts the shower and we wash up within seconds. This time he hands me my towel. After we’re dry, I generously apply lotion, dress, then begin my dental routine.

  We’re cuddled up in bed, silent, but content in one another’s embrace. I check my cell, 10:00 PM flashes on the screen. I’m hopeful that the next two weeks will fly by; nonetheless, I’m excited to spend time with Tim and Kim. A pang forms in my chest as I note that, after months, this would be the longest time I’d be apart from David. His sexual fire blazes for me, and I wonder how intense it’d be upon my return.

  We’re kissing and touching until David’s cell rings. “Shit! I forgot I’m on call!” Like a firefighter roused by a fire alarm, David’s out of bed and in a frantic search for his cell.

  “Bathroom!” I shout and point. In a blur, David disappears then reappears with his phone to his ear. “Yes. Yes. Now? All right. I’m on my way,” David declares before turning to face me to say, with a lopsided smile, “Sorry, babe. I have to deliver twins.”

  “How exciting! Well, don’t let me keep you. Can I help with something?” I offer as I observe him search the room for his belongings.

  “Yes, could you help me pack while I dress myself?” David requests as he struggles with his pants. I nod in agreement, then pack up his overnight bag before he’s finished dressing himself.

  We say our goodbyes in the room and I follow him to the front door. He kisses then hugs me before requesting that I call him when I have an opportunity. I kiss him one last time then linger to watch him drive away.

  An ache forms in my chest as his car disappears. I brush the feeling away then acknowledge that this is David’s career. It’s not that I’m jealous of his responsibilities, because there are people who rely on him. I consider how it would be if we had children…Would he deliver our children? Whoa! Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself, Scarlet?

  As quiet as possible, I walk to my room, then shut the bedroom door. It’s 11:00 PM, and my room feels empty. I let out a deep sigh as I struggle to find a comfortable sleeping position. I toss and turn until, finally, I drift into a deep slumber.

  A watery thickness surrounds me; murderous Kate is out-of-sight. Unrecognizable faces shift in-and-out of view. My eyes shoot open the moment my alarm chimes at 8:00 AM.

  I’m somewhat rested, but for the first time in days, I’m relieved that I didn’t dream of Kate. I collect my outfit for the day: navy Bermuda shorts, and a mid-sleeved cream-colored blouse, along with gray leather peep-toe flats, all by Ralph Lauren. He sure knows how to make a woman feel beautiful and comfortable.

  Once my bed is made, I tidy my room a tad, then wash with such haste that I almost stumble out of the shower. By 8:40, I’m dressed and finishing my look for the day. I place my cell and charger in my purse then hang it on my shoulder. With my luggage, I stand in shock once I notice that I’m the last one to the kitchen.

  “Good morning, everyone,” I announce with a smile on my face. Everyone greets me then turns their attention to their breakfast and phones. Tim and Kim have their luggage near the door so I place my bags next to theirs. After I’ve made a quick breakfast of peanut butter toast and a mug coffee, I check my phone.

  My notifications reveal that David sent a text at 5:00AM, after his late-night delivery:

  Hi, babe. The twins and mother are fine. I’m exhausted after their long delivery. So, I’m headed to bed. I have
a morning full of appointments. I’ll be waiting to hear from you. I love you. Have a safe trip.

  Violet and Milton notice the time, with a swiftness, they gather their belongings, offer quick goodbyes, then leave to join the morning traffic. Shortly after they leave, I receive a text from Violet: “This is why we have a departure time!”

  As usual, Kim volunteers for kitchen duty, so Tim and I load the luggage. We pack carrot sticks, nuts, broccoli florets, and water for snacks. We agree to only stop for restroom breaks or gas. I’m tired, so I make myself comfortable in the back of my Tacoma’s extended cab, then rest my eyes.

  It takes five minutes for Tim and Kim to agree on Aerosmith as a Pandora station. Not too far into our trip, Kim mentions needing to use the restroom, so Tim stops at a rest area in Ochopee. I rest but unintentionally eavesdrop during their bonding time.

  After Kim has exited my Tacoma, I wait a moment and slowly stir in an attempt to look as if I’ve risen from a deep sleep. Tim laughs then says, “You fooled no one!” I laugh then give him a little push. We joke around until Kim returns. Tim whispers, “Watch her start laughing if we give her strange smiles.”

  We greet her with purposefully creepy smiles—Tim was right. Kim laughed before being able to ask why we were giving her such strange stares. I excuse myself to use the restroom so that Tim wouldn’t have to stop in ten minutes.

  I’m restless waiting for the hand dryer, so I leave the restroom with damp hands. An unexpected gentle breeze greets me the moment I open the restroom door. As I walk in the direction of my Tacoma, I notice I lost my seat and would be in the front with Kim.

  “Is it all right if I drive?” she questions with a squinty stare. Tim’s stretched out, with one leg comfortably on the bench seat, and the other hanging off of the seat. His left arm covers his face as he fidgets to find a comfortable position.

  “How do you make it look so comfortable?” he complains as he tosses and turns.

  “Umm…You must have forgotten I’m merely 5’7”; my legs are shorter than yours,” I retort as he fakes a menacing stare that causes us to laugh. Kim starts the Tacoma, backs out of our parking spot, then merges onto Tamiami Trail. Tim’s releasing a crackly snore before we’re out of Ochopee.

  “I’m surprised I have managed to sleep through his snoring,” Kim whispers through a giggle.

  “Me, too.” I add to her banter.

  We laugh until Tim makes an awkward snoring sound that fools us for a moment.

  “I thought he was waking up,” Kim whispers as she focuses on the road.

  Later, we agree to listen to Pandora’s Florence and the Machine station. “I love her voice,” Kim shares as she modestly sings along. I check my phone for a text from David. Nothing.

  We listen to Pandora’s recommendations until we notice signs for Krome. A reminder rings from my navigation system. Kim questions if she should stop for a bathroom break. I tell her I can wait a little longer. A moment passes and she agrees to also wait.

  More music selections drone from the speakers. Considering how unsafe Kim’s drive-dancing appears, she’s a pretty safe driver. Miles from Homestead, Kim and I decide we should stop before we get onto Hwy 1.

  We wake Tim up, which is a difficult task. However, after several, “TIM! GET UP!”, combined with two finger-jabs from me, and “TIM! TIM! TIM!” combined with pinching from Kim, we’re finally able to get Tim to open his eyes.

  “How much longer?” he questions in a deep, sleep-laced, throaty voice.

  “We have a little over 127 miles. We’re stopping before getting onto US 1, in case there aren’t any rest stops,” Kim offers with an infectious smile.

  “Good idea,” Tim agrees as he stretches.

  As we exit my Tacoma, Tim bumps his head then yells, “OUCH!” He rubs his head as Kim and I follow his lead. I remind Kim to lock the doors. She double-checks the doors then hooks arms with me. We walk like two teenaged schoolgirls towards the restrooms. Kim giggles as she opens the bathroom door.

  I’ve never been much of stall-talker, but she sure is. I finish first then wash my hands quickly. While I wait for Kim, I check my makeup and clear some smudged mascara, then touch-up my lip gloss. Kim washes, dries her hands, checks her hair and makeup—then beats me to the restroom door.

  Without much encouragement, we begin running to my Tacoma, until my arm and leg begin to hurt. I’m instantly reminded of Kate’s assault. I’m forced to slow down, but laugh as Kim celebrates her win by dancing while shooting finger guns in the air. I give Kim a smile and let her know I’d be giving her a break by driving the rest of the way.

  Tim begins to take his seat in the back until Kim request they switch—he obliges. He’s disconnecting Kim’s phone as she starts to reach for it.

  “Thanks, babe,” Kim exclaims as she hugs and kisses him on the cheek. I insert my truck keys, but wait to start the engine due to the need to adjust my seat before buckling up. Tim nods his head along to Adele’s smooth but powerful vocals. Before Adele finishes her song, I start my Tacoma, put it in reverse, then merge onto US 1.

  Our drive on US 1 is awe-inspiring. The weather’s cooperative, making the view of the ocean simply majestic. Crystal-like reflections shimmer in the waves as the sun’s rays hit the ocean’s surface. Three hours into our trip and we’re cruising on US 1, listening to Amy Winehouse sing her way out of going to rehab.

  “This is awesome!” Kim shouts over the refreshing breeze rushing through the windows. Key Largo is spectacular—the view of the area and homes is breathtaking. My mind clears from the negative emotions Kate has caused. For a moment, it’s as if she left the planet. I decide that this trip would be a soul-cleanse. Positive affirmations make a mental loop as I add to my mental chant: “Kate will no longer create negativity in my life!”

  I speed up to 70 miles-per-hour. The speed, the breeze, and the music make our ride like a scene out of a chic flick/road trip movie. Kim enthusiastically spots the first Key West sign.

  “Finally! You guys, when my boutique burned down—I was so devastated. I felt so lost. This trip is so needed. Thank you for letting me tag along. I love you guys,” Kim enthuses loudly. A tender pang in my heart forms for Kim and the circumstances that have brought her into my life. “Aw! We love you, too!” Tim and I respond as we grin. My navigation system informs us that, within a mile, we’ll take a right onto N. Roosevelt Blvd.

  As soon as we’re on Roosevelt Blvd., we’re instructed to take another right onto Palm Avenue Causeway. The scene is—epic. As we drive into Key West towards the Ocean Key Resort and Spa, we’re oohing and awing as we observe how bright and cheerful Key West appears.

  Once again, my navigation system directs us, step-by-step, until we finally reach our destination: Ocean Key Resort and Spa. Tim informs us that valet parking’s included. An elated shriek escapes from Kim. We’re wriggling in our seats with excitement. Once we’re on Duval Street, we’re awestruck by the resort’s location—we’re right on the water. A calmness overcomes me as I recognize the fact that I’m far, far away from Kate. But I’m conflicted by the reminder that I’m also far, far away from my family, and David. Tim notices my sudden sadness, then pats my leg.

  We cruise until we park in front of the resort. We stretch our legs as the valet greets us and he gently herds us towards the resort reception.

  “Good afternoon, and welcome to Ocean Key Resort and Spa!” a perky, short, adorable receptionist bellows from behind her desk. With a charming smile, Tim takes the lead and finalizes our arrangements for our rooms. To our dismay, a conflict has occurred—there was a glitch and we were given a regular one-bed room instead of a suite.

  The manager appears after being flirty with Tim from across the room. Heavy flirting ensues until the manager offers a penthouse at our regular suite price. Kim and I gawk in amazement and grin at each other. Kim sways to whisper, “Whoa! Two guys have shown interest in Tim, and none for me.” She sways back, then reveals a pout. I give her arm a little squeeze then offer
, “I’m sure you’ll meet someone soon.”

  Tim and Kelly, the hotel manager, carry on their conversation through the luxurious lobby. Then they continue flirting all the way into the elevator. It’s as if Kelly has fallen head over loafers for Tim. Kim and I are awkwardly silent as Tim and Kelly continue conversing during our elevator ride.

  Finally, the elevator halts then opens, and once again we’re blown away by what greets us. Our penthouse floor’s hallway is decorated with upscale beach-themed paintings and other cream-colored décor. Kelly takes our room keycard out of its envelope.

  “Here we are,” Kelly declares as he opens the door. “Ladies first,” he says as he motions for us gals to enter. Suddenly, Kelly closes the door behind us to continue chatting in the hallway with Tim.

  Kim and I gawk with glee as we observe our penthouse suite. Greens and other warm colors adorn the room. We debate whether or not to have a drink.

  “It’s not even 5:00,” I announce. Kim shrugs it off then walks into one of the rooms.

  “There are only two rooms…two beds…” Kim comments from the second bedroom.

  “I know. Do you want to bunk together?” I inquire from the living room.

  “I guess…considering Tim might have some company,” she teases as we grin at each other.

  “So where is our luggage?” Kim questions as she leaves one of the bathrooms.

  “Not sure,” I reply with shrug. Tim walks in as Kim and I continue our search for our luggage. His smile changes when he notices our concern.

  “What?” he asks as his eyebrows furrow.

  “We can’t find our luggage,” Kim responds.

  Tim informs us that Kelly mentioned that someone would be bringing our luggage from the Tacoma. We cease our search, then walk towards the window to admire the view.

  “So what should we do first?” Kim questions.

  “I think I want to wash up, but I guess it’ll have to wait,” I respond.