Mister Black swept in and out of my life like a tornado, leaving me twisted up and forever changed in his wake.
And now that my life is finally back on track, I need to move on, despite the many reminders of our time together.
But our pasts are only as far away as the shadows we hide behind, and sometimes those shadows grow darker, converging on the present in the most insidious way.
He is Black: a stealthy hunter and rainbow master.
I am Red: a truth seeker and desire keeper.
Together we are obsession. Passionate colors destined to be drawn together.
NOTE: Scarlett Red is meant for readers 18+ due to mature content. This is part 2 of a serial and is approximately 250 print pages
Copyright 2014 by P.T. Michelle
All rights reserved. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook cannot be re-sold or given away to others. No parts of this ebook may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.
This is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Interior formatted by E.M. Tippetts Book Designs
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Mom yells for me to get the phone from her nightstand, her voice pitched higher than usual as it echoes down the hall. I open my eyes and try to shake the stuffy grogginess from my head. What phone? Has she forgotten our phone’s been disconnected? Stupid medical bills. I glance at the clock. One-eleven glows back at me. Mom must be getting ready to go to bed. She usually stays up late reading. She claims it helps her escape from the pain. I rub my face and wonder if I dreamed her calling me. Mom screams at the same time I hear the door to our apartment slam on its hinges.
What’s happening? I stumble out of bed and run blindly toward my mom standing at the front of the hall. Other than streetlight bleeding through the blinds and casting shadows on the walls, it’s dark in our apartment.
A man in a ski mask approaches Mom. “Move,” he barks in a gruff voice.
“We don’t have anything.” Her words are low and shaky. “Even the TV is broken.”
I skid to a stop behind her, but she throws her arms outward. She’s not letting me past her. “Stay back, Sebastian.”
I’m big for a seventeen-year-old. The masked man must’ve felt threatened. He quickly points the gun at me and narrows his dark eyes.
“No!” Mom screams, jumping in front of the gun just as it goes off.
Her slight frame flings back into mine and I catch her. “Mom!” I yell, stunned into immobility. As we fall to the floor together, the intruder empties his gun into us. Heart pounding in fear for my mom, all I can do is clutch her close and jerk with each bullet jolting her body.
I try to yell, to scream at the motherfucking bastard, but nothing comes out. I’m in shock, and all I can do is lay there frozen, while the man turns and ambles out of our apartment like he’d just delivered pizza, not shredded my mother to bits.
Warm blood oozes over my fingers. I don’t have enough hands to stop all the blood flowing from her wounds. I crawl over her, gulping my fear back. I try, but there are just too many holes.
You need to dial 911. Get your head on straight! Call. No fucking phone! No neighbor will dare offer help for fear they’ll be next to catch a bullet. Mom had said something about a phone in her nightstand. I gently set her aside and run to her room. Dragging open her drawer, I find a small flip phone inside. Where did that come from?
I grab it and dial 911. Once I tell the operator where to send an ambulance, I rush back to my mom’s side to wait for the sirens.
My heart races as I frown at the phone in my hand, my fingers sticky with blood. Where did she get this? Opening it once more, I scroll through to see who she has called. No past history. One number is stored under contacts.
No name. Just a number.
I dial and put the phone to my ear.
“Hello?” A man says sleepily.
“I think I have the wrong number,” I say, sounding hoarse.
Just when I start to hang up, the man replies, “Sebastian? Is everything all right?”
I frown, my stomach churning. “Who is this?”
The man sighs heavily. “Is your mother all right?”
“No,” I croak, shaking my head. “She’s not moving.”
The man’s speaking but sirens begin to blare in my ear. They get louder and louder until it feels like my eardrums are going to explode. As soon as I yell for it to stop, my eyes fly open.
Exhaling a harsh breath, I scrub my hands down my face, then grab my ringing phone from the nightstand. Five a.m. glows red on the display. “You have five seconds to make this early call worth my time,” I growl into the receiver.
“I’m assuming you’re Sebastian. I’m detective Bill Danvers. Carl Resinski over at the ninth precinct recommended your firm—well, you—saying you see stuff others don’t. We’d like you to come take a look. At this point, I’m willing to pay the damned Tooth Fairy to catch this bastard.”
“On behalf of BLACK Security, fuck you, Danvers.”
Just when I move my thumb to end the call, the man calls out, “Wait! Sorry, that came out wrong. Listen, I’m at my wits’ end on this one. This is the second redhead this year. And two years ago, there was a string of five, same MO. All have been strangled and left naked with bloody wounds and welts all over their bodies. The freak mixes the victim’s blood from her wounds with food coloring to make it even brighter before he splatters it all over the scene. His special calling card. We can’t allow this guy to do it again. Can you help us out?”
Grunting, I agree to meet him at the latest victim’s address in a half hour. Bright Red. I can’t go a day without seeing that color everywhere and automatically thinking of her. Today’s going to be brutal in more ways than one. It’s why I hate the gory murder cases the most. What is Red doing now? I can never get her out of my mind. Has she thought of me even once these past three years? Shaking my head to clear it, I stand to grab a shower, glad for the distraction from rehashing past regrets.
My dream comes back to me as I step under the hot pounding water. It has been a while since I’ve dreamed about my mother’s death. Too many other nightmares have crowded in since then, filling the dark space and shoving thoughts of her death to the recesses of my mind. Probably dreamed about it due to Mom’s cold case file finally making its way to me. I’d requested it from a law enforcement buddy the other day. I mentally step through what I remember and wonder how it’ll compare to her file.
After I meet with this detective and survey the crime scene for him, I’ll go for a long run to clear my head, then crack open Mom’s folder.
“I think this event at the Hawthorne resort will do you a world of good, Talia.”
Glad that Aunt Vanessa’s voice is coming through clearly in my laptop’s audio connection, I pause in painting my toenails and glance at my computer screen. I’ve written a full chapter so far. The words are telling a story. But is the story compelling enough? I sigh at my pink toenails, my current form of procrastination. I have three months to get the third book in my suspense trilogy off to my editor. Wiggling my toes, I recap the polish and make sure to direct my voice toward my computer. “You know I prefer going to Martha’s Vineyard in the fal
l.”
“You need it now, dear. It’s beautiful in the summer. I’ll bet you could use a little sun. That’s probably why you haven’t turned the video feature on. I like to see your face when we talk.”
“I haven’t turned it on because I’m working.” I tap out a couple of nonsense sentences on my keyboard so she can hear me typing.
“Then why am I just now hearing the keys?”
“Because you’re distracting me from my job—”
“When I got the invitation for a singles’ event, I instantly thought of you.” She talks over me as if I haven’t spoken. “I insist that you take my slot.”
“You should go, Aunt Vanessa. It’ll be just what you need.” My aunt has been a widow for a year now. She’d married later in life, and in a sad twist of fate lost her husband, George, to cancer just three years after their wedding.
“This is a younger crowd, Talia. Plus, I’m just not ready to get back on the singledom horse yet. Maybe never. Anyway, Charlie keeps me entertained. He wants me to go to a couple of wineries this weekend. He’s looking for the perfect wine for Stuart’s birthday present.”
“Too bad Charlie bats for the other team. You two make the best couple.”
“It’s so true. He just gets me, warts and all, but this is about you. The Hawthorne event is perfect. According to the invitation Hawthorne sent out, it’s touted to be a social series of fun gatherings. No strings attached. Go and release your inhibitions.”
I snort. “That so isn’t me and you know it.”
“That’s the whole point, Talia. You need to escape from yourself. You’ve been through a lot the last couple years. First the Tribune shafts you, then Nathan’s cheating. I’m the only one who has been here for you. The only one who will always be here, and I’m pretty sure all that upheaval in your life is why this last book is giving you a fit. You’re worried about starting something new. What’s next for you once that book is done? Am I right?”
Thanks for bringing past crap up, Aunt Vanessa. I’ve managed not to think too much about the shambles my life had fallen into before I started writing. “There will always be new mysteries to write,” I answer my aunt in a light tone. “Who else can say they get paid to make stuff up all day? This is a dream job.”
“You know what I mean. I want to see you more. I want some family time. You’re always so busy hiding behind your writing.”
Just then the sunlight catches on the solitary diamond on my finger. Shining brilliantly in my eyes, it feels like it’s mocking me and backing up my aunt’s words. I grit my teeth and spin Nathan’s diamond around, closing my fingers around it. “I’m not hiding. I’m on deadline.”
“I know your latest book isn’t due for a bit now that you got that extension. You have time to take a few days off. You’re going to Hawthorne. I’ll call ahead and let Trevor know you’re coming. He’s always up for a good time.”
“A good time? Are you trying to set me up on a date? Um, no offense, but I’m not taking leftovers,” I say, swiveling around in the chair to get back to writing.
Aunt Vanessa’s laughter floats through my laptop speakers. “I’m afraid Trevor’s a bit too young for me. He’s in his late twenties, so that makes him perfect for you.”
“Is he the resort masseuse?” I tease.
“Trevor’s more than that. He might officially be the helicopter pilot for the resort, but since he lives on the Hawthorne property, he’s kind of a jack-of-all-trades there, which means he does a little bit of everything from maintenance to security to…well, let’s just say I’ve seen a few ladies take advantage of his well-built services. He’s definitely eye-candy.”
I inwardly cringe, hoping she won’t follow that up with more indirect sex talk.
“Ooh, bow chicka bow wow!” Cass says over my shoulder, making me jump. “Whatever you’re trying to convince her to do that involves eye-candy, she’s in. Can I come too?”
“Ah, I didn’t realize you were there, Cassie. I was talking about sending Talia to my favorite resort, Hawthorne, at Martha’s Vineyard, for an extended singles’ event.”
“I just got back from a grueling shoot.” Cass lets go of her rolling bag to flop back onto the sofa, her camera bag still slung over her shoulder.
I watch Cass flip her long dark hair over the couch’s arm and blow out an exhausted breath. With her gorgeous hair and light brown eyes, you would think she would be in front of the camera, not behind it. Instead, she’s been flying off to Paris, London, or New York doing one photo shoot after another for the last year. With her gone more than she’s around, it feels like I live by myself most of the time.
“I’ll get you an invitation too. Bring casual and some formal wear. The resort will provide anything else you need for the events.”
“Can we get a helicopter ride too? This Trevor guy sounds intriguing.”
My aunt chuckles. “I’ll see what I can do. There, you see, Talia. Now that your best friend’s going, you have no excuse not to go.”
As I shoot Cass a you-are-so-dead glare, she gives me an upside-down cheeky grin, then rolls onto her side, calling out in a cheery tone, “She’s going. It’s escape to the Vineyard time! Thanks, Aunt Vanessa.”
“So, what level panty-obliterating gaze does our pilot have?” Cass breathes heavily into the phone. “Is it disintegrate-at-first-glance level or slowly-melt-away-with-prolonged-heated-stare level?”
My hand grips the phone. “Why are you calling to ask me this? You’ll see for yourself soon enough.”
“Ummm, you won’t believe it!” she squeals in my ear.
“Oh no you don’t.” I halt dragging my roller bag across the concrete toward the helicopter pad. I recognize that super-excited voice. “Your ass better be in a cab on the way to this airport.”
“Well, it’s in a cab…”
“Cass!” I hiss quietly. “I knew you having a ‘quick breakfast’ with Sergio this morning was a bad idea.”
“I’m sorry, Talia. He booked Simone and Nicolai for a shoot in Greece, but then his photographer got food poisoning, so he called me. Do you have any idea how much I’ve wanted to shoot each of these models? And to have both of them together is incredibly rare! I can’t pass this up. This could be the shoot that puts me on the map.”
“You’re already all over the map.” I look up to see the helicopter pilot glancing at his watch. Great, he’s as annoyed as I am.
“Listen, you’d better go without me. Ever since Nathan’s betrayal, you’ve been so out of commission the past year, I’m surprised your crotch doesn’t make creaky-hinge sounds when you walk. You do realize that hinges eventually lock up for good if they don’t get lubrication, right?
Rolling my eyes, I sigh. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”
“That’s what friends are for…and hey, you’d better not still have his ring on. I know you put it on yesterday to remind yourself what an ass he is, but just because he called out of the blue doesn’t mean jack. The douche still cheated on you.”
She doesn’t know Nathan has been trying to contact me at least once a month since I dumped him. Sometimes via text, sometimes email, but his phone call a couple days ago definitely surprised me.
“He’s not entirely to blame, Cass. There are things I wouldn’t let him do, and I think that complicated our relationship.”
I hear a door slam and horns beeping in the background. “As in kinky things?” Cass whispers into the phone, sounding intrigued.
“As in oral sex,” I say in a low voice.
“What! Are you crazy? Most women would be happy to let their guys—” She trails off, obviously in a place she can’t talk freely. “Why not?”
“I don’t know. I just haven’t let him.”
She snorts. “Apparently you’ve never had really good oral sex or we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
Her sarcastic comment conjures a memory of Sebastian’s silky dark hair sliding between my thighs, his powerful hands grasping my bare butt in a
firm grip as he slides his tongue intimately along my sex. A warm flush instantly spreads across my skin. God, it’s been three years, yet I can still feel the heat of his hands possessively palming my body, the hot moisture of his mouth making me melt like it was yesterday. Has he thought of me as often as I’ve thought of him?
Sebastian Quinn, the one man I want but can never have.
One night with him at that masked costume party was never going to be enough, but sadly it had to be. Sebastian had been too intuitive. He was the type who would never let me keep my past in the past. I need it to stay buried deep. Along with all those memories.
I wanted to look him up so many times, but I never let myself. My willpower to stay away is only so strong. Keeping him firmly out of my sight is my only protective defense, because he’s never been out of my mind. Not to mention, it would kill me to learn that something happened to him while he was off on a mission with his SEAL team. Or, slightly less painful, that he’s married to a gorgeous wife and has two equally beautiful kids, one of them a charismatic boy with his father’s pitch-black hair and dual-colored eyes.
“If you have to think about it that hard, then I’d say the answer is ‘no,’” Cass says in a dry tone, pulling me out of my rambling thoughts.
“I have had good oral sex,” I huff out. “I just wasn’t ready for that level of intimacy with Nathan.”
“If you weren’t ready to go there with Nathan, then you didn’t need to be engaged in the first place. I’m so glad you’re going this weekend. Let loose, get a bit of sun on that fair skin, and have fun. You need it, girl.”
I didn’t bother telling her that I have already turned around and am heading back to the terminal, but then a man calls out behind me, “Are you Miss Lone?”
Cass snickers in my ear. “Your aunt booked you under your pen name? How very incognito. Go. Have a blast. I’ll expect all the gritty details when I get back. And I do hope it’s of the sweaty, dirty talk variety.”
Scarlett Red: A Billionaire SEAL Story, Part 2 (In the Shadows) Page 1