by T K Barber
“It's not . . . her . . . is it?”
Thomas didn't move.
“Shiiiiiit.” Charlie let out a long, loud sigh. “You know I've got your back. Come on. Let's drop this and roll.”
Scarlet
Scarlet made sure to get up forty-five minutes early, yet somehow only managed to gain ten minutes. Must be biologically impossible for her to manage her time. She made it to the elevator before it left and rode with several other not-quite-so-early birds. A stop at each floor before hers left her alone with her thoughts for about twenty-five seconds.
With any luck, she could make it into her office and lock the door until her employees dragged in. She had a hard time expecting them to be on time when she couldn't either. But the big boss still wanted them to be. Her being on salary offered her at least a tiny bit of leeway. The door slid open, and she considered not getting out at all, but shook her head and squared her shoulders as she stepped over the gap.
“Hello, Scarlet. You look stunning today.”
Her breath stuck in her throat, and her heart stopped. Steven slid up beside her, blowing his freshly tainted smoky breath across her face with his words. What the hell, was he just waiting for her?!
“S-Steven.”
She cursed herself and cleared her throat as she fought the twist in her stomach. She figured seeing him today would be hard, but she had no idea how terrifying it would be. She took a calming breath. He wouldn't do anything here.
Right?
He placed his hand on the small of her back, and she jumped forward out of reach, her breaths ragged as she spun to face him. She couldn't fight the impulse to cover her throat.
“Don't touch me.”
He laughed again and shrugged. “It did get a tad out of hand. Alcohol tends to make my blood run a little hotter than most.” His eyes raked her body, and he shook his head. “You have that effect too.”
He paused, then shrugged with a wince.
That was almost an apology, but not damn close enough. Her eyes flitted around the room, looking in vain for anyone. She knew she was the only one there, but she couldn't help hoping. He gave her his well-practiced innocent and charming smile.
“So, what was with the hoodie guy, you know him?” His voice had a satin tone, but she picked up the venom underneath.
She looked at his face as if for the first time and was more than a little pleased at the state of his prized features. He had the beginnings of a bruised outline in the center of his forehead, and his neck had a slight hint of purple. He was walking a little slower than normal as well, all of which made her quite happy. She fought to keep the waver out of her voice and raised her eyebrows.
“No. He just saw you being a total douche and came to my rescue.”
Steven laughed like she had told him the funniest joke he'd ever heard and took a step toward her.
“That's not what it looked like.” He took another step, forcing her back one. “Strangers don't stand that close to each other. Strangers don't touch each other. Strangers. Don't. Kiss.”
He punctuated the last words like they physically hurt him to say. She stopped breathing for a second before rage hit her.
“You . . . were watching me? What the hell?!”
He shrugged with a smug thrust up of his bottom lip.
“I had a friend keep an eye on you. Wouldn't want anything bad to happen.” He winked, and she shrunk a little inside. “Besides, I like to keep watch over things that are mine.”
The floor swayed under her, and her vision jumped with each slamming heartbeat. Rage eventually won out over fear, and she clenched her fists.
“Yours? Have you lost your damn mind? I thought I made it pretty clear that I had no interest in you!”
His expression blanked and an empty, cold rage formed in his eyes. He stepped directly in front of her. Her throat tightened and panic nearly drowned her as she calculated how fast she could run in her low heels without falling.
“That certainly wasn't how I saw it. Even Anthony mentioned how much fun you were having and what a great couple we made.” He grinned, rolled his shoulder, and cracked his neck.
The twist in her stomach turn into a full-blown gut kick. She'd been right. Even if she had gone to the cops, his friends would have sided with him. She swallowed and scoffed, feigning like she wasn't utterly terrified to be talking to him.
He smirked and took another step toward her with his hands clasped loosely behind his back. She shot a glance over her shoulder and panic welled again as they neared the wall. He pulled one of his hands forward and looked at his nails.
“I want you to know, I'll forgive you if the answer is yes.”
Her brain scrambled, and she shook her head to clear her thoughts.
“Wha . . . ? Answer to what?” Surprising how much of her voice still worked. Her gaze darted to the elevator, willing someone to come in.
“Scarlet.”
He leaned into her and she let out a terrified gasp when her back hit the wall. He sucked on his teeth and rubbed his hand down his chin before clearing his throat and forming a somber expression.
“Did you fuck him?”
Her brain threatened to split open with the audacity of that question.
“What the—why would—wouldn't you know that if you were watching me?!”
He frowned and squinted his eyes at her.
“My friend had other business that night. I'm hoping he didn't miss anything. We have to be able to trust each other for this relationship to work.”
Again, her rage won over, and she fumed at him.
“Steven! You're insane! First, there is no relationship! Second, it's none of your damn business whether I did or not! And third, that's REALLY none of your damn business!”
He smiled and breathed in deeply.
“Good, I'm glad you didn't.”
How the hell could he know that? She swallowed. He leaned further in and put a hand on the wall beside her head. He hovered his cheek beside hers, his breath blowing against her ear. Her eyes went wide, and she was too scared to move, even though her mind was screaming at her body to run.
All she had to do was scream. That's it. Just open her mouth and scream. Maybe someone would hear her from another floor. Or maybe someone was hanging out in the stairwell. Easy. But she couldn't make her voice work. Or her legs. Then he chuckled, a humorless, predatory sound. Her breaths came too short, she wasn't getting enough air, and her hands started to shake.
“And you're wrong.”
He removed the hand from the wall and took gentle hold of her chin, tilting her head to the side. She squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed. Just scream. Just scream. All she had to do was open her mouth. Why wasn't anything working?!
“You are mine; you'll see soon enough. You can't fight destiny. And you won't hide what's under those clothes for much longer. Especially not from me.”
He ran his tongue on the bite he left her and moaned appreciatively. She recoiled and jerked her head, but he held her chin tighter. Her throat opened for just a second.
“Steven, stop!”
Her eyebrows knitted in fear and she fought not to give him the satisfaction of crying. He continued, eyeing her neck and chest.
“And your little friend, whoever the hell he is, won't be there to interrupt next time. I'll make sure of that.”
The elevator dinged, and her eyes flew open in relief. Someone had called it from another floor. He glanced over at it, then slowly back to her, his dark whisper echoing in her ear.
“I have a special place to take you, where we won't be bothered. There's even a friend for you there.”
He stood up straight and released her as the elevator finally got to the floor. That sickening grin in place, he walked backward two steps before turning and striding up the stairs. She exhaled and blinked.
She couldn't . . . she needed . . . run.
She fought to keep it together as long as she cou
ld. She walked shakily over to the elevator and waited for it to empty, looking the other way before she climbed on and rode it down.
All she had to do was hold it together long enough to get to her car. Once the door shut, she completely broke.
She only thought she was strong enough to handle this. Seeing him again was so much harder than she thought it would be. She couldn't go back. She'd need to stay far away from places he was going to be.
She'd text Katelyn to grab her stuff and meet her somewhere. But she couldn't do anything until the tears slowed down enough for her to see. Or the shaking stopped long enough for her hands to work. There was something seriously wrong with him. What kind of garbage was he spewing about destiny? Why was he so damn intent on having her!?
Hyperventilation forced white spots in her vision, so she willed her lungs to calm down.
She wasn't staying here, that much was certain. But where could she go? If she went home, all she'd do is sit around and cry and worry. Katelyn wasn't at home, and John was working at another event out of town. And the police wouldn't do a damn thing; he already confirmed that. She rested her forehead on the steering wheel, and a sudden hysterical laugh burst out of her.
She knew exactly where she wanted to go. But he probably didn't even want to see her face, let alone be a rock for her right now. Apparently, all she did was cause him torment, though she had no idea why. She lifted her head and wiped her eyes.
No choice. She needed to be somewhere safe, and right then, the only safety she had in the world was Nick.
Nick
“You need to brighten up, man. You're bringing this whole place down. Go pet a puppy or something.”
Kyle had himself draped across Nick's office chair like it was his, passing his twenty-one-year-old judgment like anyone gave a damn. Nick slapped his legs down from the top of the desk and glowered.
“Move.”
“Hey! Okay man, jeez. Chillax.”
Nick grumbled and shook his head. The chime of the door sounded, and he pushed Kyle in the arm and pointed.
“Yeah, yeah I'm going,” Kyle muttered, strolling to the front.
Nick sat down hard in the chair. He propped his elbows up on the desk and stared at the faded blue wall in front of him.
Coward.
He dropped his forehead onto his hands for probably the thirtieth time that day.
Coward.
That word circled his brain, over. And over. Eliza was gone. She wasn't coming back. Annalise was gone. He was going to get her back . . . hopefully. Scarlet . . .
He sighed and closed his eyes. Was keeping her safe cowardly? Could he keep her safe and be with her? The answer to that had to be no. He could never be sure they wouldn't come for her.
Coward.
He'd never, ever forgive himself if something happened to her too. He scoffed and glared at the white drop-tile ceiling. God, that kiss . . .
He frowned.
Why couldn't he stop thinking about her? He barely even knew her. And she sure as hell didn't know him. Or what he'd done.
He laced his hands behind his head.
Besides, there was no way she'd be with someone like him. Not as he was. And sure as hell not after how many times he'd walked away from her. And even more so if she ever knew what he'd been doing. God, she probably didn't even like him anymore.
He groaned and plopped his head back in his hands.
There were three more door chimes, and Nick grumbled. Grant was off today, so Kyle was about to get covered up. Nick pushed himself up from the desk and headed to the front.
Four new customers milled about, adding to the two that were there earlier, waiting on paint, keys and other things. Of course, today of all days it would be busy. Maybe it would be a good thing, though. Keep his mind occupied for a little while, at least.
He walked up to an older gentleman and offered to help him. He only managed to halfway listen, thoughts of her winding in and out of his subconscious.
He nodded periodically and registered something about a gutter clip. Maybe a dog chain. He had no idea really. His peripheral vision caught movement through the window, and he absently glanced up.
His heart leaped into his throat, and he gasped. “Scarlet!”
He hadn't meant to say it out loud, and certainly not that loud. He was just so surprised to see her like she was summoned from his mind. Several of the customers shot him looks, and he cleared his throat and smiled. Kyle’s expression was decidedly unamused as he rolled his eyes.
“Sorry.” Nick frowned at his customer. “Sir, I'll be back in just a few minutes.”
The older man nodded, and Nick shot out the front door. As soon as he cleared the tinted glass of the outer windows, he saw her face, and his heart ached.
“I'm . . . sorry,” she stammered.
Her eyes were already so red he wasn't sure how she saw to drive. She had her arms wrapped tightly around herself, wavering on whether to turn around and leave.
“I didn't know . . . I needed to. I needed to feel safe. I know you probably don't want to see m—”
He slowly pulled her into his arms and wrapped her up tight. She exhaled a stuttering breath and buried her face against his chest, her own hitching with cries as she hugged his waist tightly.
Safe. She needed to be with him to feel safe. He shook his head and cast his eyes up. Of all the messed-up things. And she was so wrong. He did want to see her. Badly. He tightened his embrace, and she repositioned to press her cheek against him.
“I couldn't do it . . . I thought I was strong enough. But when he . . . he was waiting on me.” She sucked in another ragged breath and let it out slowly. His grip tightened further, and anger welled inside him.
“Scarlet. What happened?”
He was so wrapped up in holding her he forgot they were standing out in the open on the sidewalk. That the customers were watching the whole spectacle. That literally anyone could see them. She noticed, though and started to pull back.
“Nick, everyone's . . .”
He glanced around and scowled. “Shit. Come on.”
Without thinking, he reached down and took her hand. She sucked in a breath, and he froze, then slowly dropped his gaze to the delicate hand nestled in his.
That was nicer than he cared to admit. He ran his thumb across her skin and exhaled through his nose. He locked eyes with her and chewed on the side of his mouth in thought before he slowly laced their fingers together.
Maybe it was time to not be a damn coward.
She closed her eyes tightly and covered her mouth, probably to hold back more tears. He pulled her around the back of the building and headed toward their loading door. He kicked several pieces of corrugated cardboard and empty Red Bull cans out of the way and sat her in one of Kyle's hard plastic smoke break chairs. Kyle's sorry self would be out there to clean real soon.
“Here, one sec.”
He grabbed the other one, hit it on the concrete a couple of times to clear the seat of leaves and sat it directly in front of her. He positioned his knees on the outside of hers and took both of her hands as he exhaled. It was so comforting to have her there. To not feel alone even for just a few minutes. To be holding her hands. Just holding them. He knew her wrists were soft and delicate, but he hadn't had an opportunity before to really feel just how soft her hands were too.
But it was time to get down to business.
“What happened?”
She inhaled and shook her head, as she battled her emotions.
“He . . . I mean it's . . . he had someone watching me. Us. Then.”
Nick sucked in a breath and knitted his brow. Now he felt even worse for walking away. At least he hadn't gone far. Or maybe it was better that he walked away when he did. Why did he have someone watching, though? That was fishy.
“So, he was asking about you. Wanted to know if we . . .” She cleared her throat and swallowed. “Said that he was . . . going to
take . . .”
She started crying again, and he frowned. He hated seeing it. He dropped her hands and crossed his arms. Then uncrossed them and clasped his hands together behind his head. Then rubbed one through his hair. Then leaned over on his elbows and sighed.
He knew what he wanted to do. Knew what she probably needed him to do. How far was he going to take this? How far was he going to let her in? How much eventual pain was he willing to take, just to have a few moments of connection? How much longer could he pretend he didn't want to be near her?
He chewed on his lip, eventually giving in, and pulled her onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her. She fit perfectly against him like that too. As she laid her head on his shoulder his heart skipped, and he frowned. Damn it.
She stuttered a breath against him, and he was helpless. Again. And it boiled his blood.
He needed to make sure she was safe. Somehow. He was a war of emotions. Beyond happy to have her this close but destroyed and enraged at the thought of something happening to her again. And irritated at himself for being selfish enough to put her in danger just to hold her.
“Damn it, Scarlet," He pulled her in tighter. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”
He reached down and cupped her cheek, tilting her face up to look at him. He wiped his thumb under her eye, grabbing mascara. He wanted to kiss her again; she was right there. Her delicious mouth was inches from his. But that didn't need to happen. Ever again. It was too dangerous for her. He cleared his throat and pulled his face back another inch.
“Did he . . .”
He almost couldn't make the words come out. Just thinking it made him want to kill him.
“Did he touch you . . . or hurt you?”
She shook her head and pulled back a little, taking his hand down and holding it.
Thank God. He wasn't sure what he would have done if the answer had been yes. As it was, he was barely holding it together. Despite the entire situation, a flutter of happiness formed as he watched her trace his palm lines absently. Then he frowned. This was not a good idea . . .
“He said he had a place where no one could . . . interrupt.” She swallowed and shook her head, glancing up at the sky. “God, and he was spouting something about destiny. He's a literal insane person. But the worst part is he said he had a friend for me. That scared me more than anything.” She refocused a terrified look at him. “Nick, that means he's got someone else there, wherever that is, that he's hurting . . . or worse. Do you think it's another woman?”