by Bella J.
The moment Brent lifted his arm, Hunter saw nothing but blinding fucking red, his vision clouded with black rage as the bastard struck Scarlet across the cheek.
Hunter roared, but Scarlet didn’t make a sound. Not a fucking sound. But the way she glared at Brent, her iced-blue, cold hard stare pinned on the motherfucker in front of her, Hunter knew she was trying to fight back.
She was fighting. Scarlet was fighting.
That’s my girl.
Brent removed a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the side of his face. “I won’t tolerate that kind of disrespect, Little Red. It would be best if you refrain from such disrespectful acts.”
Scarlet tilted her head to the side, her cheek red from the blow. After staring at him, unblinking, for a few painfully silent seconds, she spat at him again.
“Fuck you, Brent. Fuck you and that tiny shriveled up dick of yours.”
Oh dear God, no. Scarlet, what the hell are you doing?
Again Brent wiped the spit off his face. He seemed calm—too calm.
After placing his handkerchief back into his pocket, he smiled—and then punched her in the gut.
The sound that came out of her mouth was bone numbingly horrific. It was like he’d shattered her insides with one blow, and Hunter felt his own insides burn, his soul screaming, raging with a need to tear Brent’s fucking head off.
Hunter started tugging and pulling, fighting to get free. All he could see was Brent’s blood coating his hands as he beat the motherfucker to death. Hunter could already taste the blood he would spill—if he could only fucking get loose.
Another man came to help the two guys who had a hold on Hunter’s arms. There was no way Hunter would have been able to pull free. Never had Hunter’s mind been filled with so many murderous thoughts of killing and clawing his way to her, to make sure Brent didn’t lay another filthy hand on her. But all those thoughts were fucking useless if he couldn’t get free.
Scarlet’s head was hanging down as she coughed, gagging while Colton continued to hold her.
Brent cocked his head to the side. “It seems like you grew a backbone during the seven years we were apart. I can’t remember you having this fight in you back then. If you did,” he grasped her by the chin and pulled her face up to him, “I would have enjoyed breaking you so much more.”
Scarlet pinched her eyes closed, and Hunter knew she was losing it. She was losing her fight, her strength. Hunter had to do something.
“You really are one twisted son of a bitch, aren’t you?” Hunter sneered.
Brent turned toward him. “Ah, the infamous Hunter Keaton. The private investigator I hired who ended up stabbing me in the back.”
“Once I figured out what a cock sucker you really are, stabbing you in the back is the least painful of all the things I want to fucking do to you.”
Brent grinned. “Did you love her, Mr. Keaton?”
Hunter glanced at Scarlet, and Brent noticed.
“Oh, I’m not talking about Blanchette here. I’m talking about Willow, the sister you fucked first.”
Hunter narrowed his eyes as he struggled to get a grip on his anger. His heart was no longer beating, it was fucking pounding inside his chest, his blood nothing but melted pools of lava pumping through his body.
“Don’t you fucking talk about her, you murderer,” Hunter shouted.
Brent let out a mocking gasp and placed his hands in front of his mouth. “Oh dear. Did you finally figure out that your dearly beloved Blue’s accident was, in fact, not an accident after all?”
How did he…
“Yes,” Brent continued. “I know everything there is to know about you, Mr. Keaton. I’m an intelligent man, and never venture into any kind of business transaction without making sure I know everything there is to know about the other party.”
The slick, sly, suit-wearing ugly rat motherfucker.
Hunter jerked, trying one last time to free himself—but failed. Out of breath, he glared at Brent with enough hate to fuel an entire legion of demons. “Well, if you’re that intelligent, you also know that I’m going to be the one that drives a knife through your fucking heart.”
“Temper, temper, Mr. Keaton. No need for any more violence. But I have to say, I do have one regret.” Brent walked up, coming so close Hunter could feel the fucker’s filthy breath against his face. “I regret not fucking little Willow too.”
And then Hunter lost it.
He screamed like a demon being tortured, begging to be set free—to kill. “I’m going to kill you, you sick motherfucker! I swear to God I’ll rip your goddamn throat out!”
While Hunter thrashed and pulled and tried his motherfucking best to get loose so that he could tear the bastard in front of him apart, Brent just stood there looking at him with his freaky eyes that seemed like they were laughing at him—mocking him.
Now,” Brent straightened the sleeves of his navy blue jacket, “our time is almost up. So I’m afraid we will be unable to finish our little chit-chat.”
When he turned around, walking straight toward Scarlet, Hunter thrashed some more, but to no avail.
“Mr. Riggs,” Brent started, slowly dragging his finger down the side of Scarlet’s face, causing her to jerk away from his touch. “I think it’s time we get our plan underway.”
Colton tightened his hold on Scarlet. “Our deal?”
Brent’s gaze flitted up to his. “I’ll keep my end of the bargain, Mr. Riggs. I’ll introduce you to Rex and make sure you are accepted into our circle of—how can I put it?—traders of the flesh.” He smiled wickedly, and Colton just nodded.
Who the fuck was Rex? Why did Colton want in to this circle? And why the fuck didn’t Colton look like a man who just got what he wanted?
Hunter glanced at Scarlet. And why the hell does she suddenly look like someone who had an epiphany punched right into her?
Brent brought his face closer to Scarlet’s, placing his hand behind her neck. For a moment, Hunter was sure she would vomit, judging by the sudden faint look on her face. Jesus Christ, the fear that had to be pulsing through that woman right now…and there was not a damn thing Hunter could do about it.
While brushing his cheek against hers, Brent closed his eyes as if he relished the feel of her skin. “It’s going to be so much fun getting reacquainted with you after all these years apart, Little Red.”
“We were never together, you fucking psycho.” Scarlet thrashed violently, desperate to get away from him, but Colton only tightened his hold around her chest.
Brent smiled. “On the contrary, Little Red, we were together quite a few times, weren’t we? And I remember one specific time when it was just as pleasurable for you as it was for me.”
Scarlet jerked her head up, and Hunter saw the tears in her eyes. She told Hunter about the one time her body betrayed her as Brent ripped a climax out of her. That was when Brent finally managed to break her in half. The time he tore her soul to pieces. And by God, the fact that Brent knew about it, that he knew what he made happen to her body, had to be her worst fucking nightmare.
“Scarlet, don’t let him get to you,” Hunter yelled, and she looked at him. The moment their eyes met, Hunter stopped struggling against the hold two men had on him. “Scar,” he said softly, “whatever you do, you fight. You fucking fight, you hear me? Do not let him win.”
Tears started to stream down her face, and Hunter felt the warmth of his own tears sting his eyes. He didn’t know whether he wanted to cry because he knew what was about to happen, or because he felt so goddamn helpless just standing there, unable to do anything.
“Mr. Riggs.” Brent let go of Scarlet’s neck and gave a step back. “Why don’t you take care of Mr. Keaton here while we escort my Little Red down to the vehicle waiting for us?”
“No!” Hunter screamed, starting to violently thrash and jerk again.
No fucking way. He promised her. He fucking promised her that he would keep her safe, yet here he was doing everything but that.
“Brent, you motherfucker! I swear to God I will find you and I will tear you the fuck apart!”
Scarlet kept staring at him, her eyes nothing but orbs of defeat. Hunter couldn’t breathe—he couldn’t fucking breathe.
His entire body was numb. His insides felt like they had been twisted with barbed wire, like the blood in his veins had turned to venom, poisoning him from the inside.
God, the pain.
The pain that was shooting from his chest straight through his heart was almost unbearable.
Scarlet started screaming, punching, and kicking the moment Brent took her from Riggs.
“Hunter!” She kept on screaming, and he could hear the fear in her voice, the desperation in the way she called out his name, begging him to help her. “Don’t. Please don’t! Take your hands off me. Hunter, don’t let him take me!”
“Scar!” Hunter yelled. He tried to push forward while he clawed and kicked at the two men making sure he would get fucking nowhere. “Scarlet. Fuck!”
A third set of hands pushed Hunter to the ground, forcing his face against the floor.
“Scarlet!”
“Hunter!”
It was no use. It was impossible for him to help her. All he could do was shout and scream like a man possessed.
While Hunter lay on the ground, watching helplessly as Brent led a screaming, fighting Scarlet away, all he thought about was how he had managed to fail her. It wasn’t just Blue he had failed anymore. It was Scarlet too. No matter how hard he tried, how badly he wanted to protect the people he cared most about, he always managed to let them down…to fail them in the worst possible way.
“Fight, Scar,” Hunter yelled after them. “Don’t you dare stop fighting.”
“Hunter!”
“Never stop fighting!”
And then the dam broke. The moment Scarlet was out the door, Hunter cried out as if his insides had been turned inside out. He screamed at the top of his lungs like the worst kind of pain was being inflicted on him—like his skin was being torn off inch by inch. Tears of anger, of rage, of desperation, and so much fucking agony spilled down his cheeks while he screamed her name over and over and over again.
“Hunter.”
A pair of hands jerked him up from the floor, and Hunter came face to face with Colton.
“Riggs, you motherfucker. Once I’m done with Brent, I’m coming after you.”
Colton held up his hand. “Stop with the threats.”
“How could you do this after you knew what that son of a bitch did to her?”
“I had no choice.”
“No choice!” Hunter yelled. “No fucking choice? Are you kidding me?”
“It’s the only way I can find her.”
“Find who?”
Riggs kept staring at him like he wanted to say something, but was biting his tongue. He sighed. “You won’t understand. But it had to be done.”
“Fuck you!” Hunter spat out.
Colton held up a taser, and Hunter started to laugh maniacally. “A taser, soldier boy? Really?”
“You’ll thank me for this one day.”
And then Hunter abruptly jolted forward as what felt like a million volts shot through his body, setting his insides—his mind—on fucking fire. Along with the waves of shock came flashes of memories. Memories of when Hunter had hope, of a time when he felt whole again. Images of blue eyes and full, heart-shaped lips rushed through his mind…all images of Scarlet. Blue was no longer there. She no longer owned that part of him that never allowed him to forget. But Scarlet did. Scarlet was there, in every memory, every moment, it was Scarlet’s face he saw. It was her…and now it would always be her.
The fiery shocks stopped, and everything around him slowly started to dim while it felt like he was falling to the ground in slow motion. His ears were ringing, his vision hazy, and his body completely numb.
When he finally landed on the ground, he vaguely saw a figure lean down. “I know you’ll find her again,” Hunter heard a voice say through the ringing still echoing in his ears.
What…?
And then there was…nothing.
Chapter 16
“Little Red.”
“Wake up, Little Red.”
That voice…it sounded so far away, like someone standing on the other side of a tunnel, calling her.
“It’s time to wake up now, Little Red.”
“The big bad wolf wants to play.”
The voice came closer and closer, and Scarlet felt it starting to slice through her gut like a thousand blades. She knew that voice. It was the voice she had heard in her nightmares. The voice that tortured her, mocked her, followed her wherever she went.
“Brent,” she whispered so softly she could hardly hear herself. Her head was pounding, her body aching, and her mouth was stone dry.
In the far corner of her mind, Scarlet tried to figure out where she was, what happened. But her mind was completely out of whack and she struggled to focus since a fucking jackhammer was drilling through her skull.
“What’s happening?” It even hurt to talk.
“Don’t worry about that now. Just give the drug time to wear off.”
She felt a soft swoosh as a piece of fabric was pulled over and off her face. Scarlet tried to open her eyes, but the light stung too much and her first reaction was to shield her face with her hands. That was when she noticed her hands were tied above her head, and all she could do was jerk her head to the side to get away from the light.
“Where am I?”
“Open your eyes and take a look for yourself.”
Just from the malevolent sound in his voice she knew she shouldn’t have opened her eyes.
But she did. God, she did.
After blinking vigorously, trying to get the fog out of her vision, Scarlet sucked in a breath as she stared in front of her. “No.”
Brent stepped in her line of vision and smiled. “Welcome back, Little Red.”
Scarlet shook her head. “No, no, no. This isn’t real.”
“What’s the matter? You not happy to be here?” Brent cocked his head to the side before holding his arms out wide.
She frantically shook her head, tugging at the chains around her wrists, wishing like hell this was just the worst goddamn nightmare she had ever had and that she would wake up soon.
Not here. Anywhere but here.
Brent slowly started to move, circling around her. He bit his lower lip while staring at her with hungry, demonic eyes. He looked like a man who hadn’t eaten for days and she was the Thanksgiving turkey he was about to cut in to. It was freaky as hell, and Scarlet was scared out of her mind.
When he stopped behind her, he pressed his chest to her back, and she jerked forward, desperate to get away from him. Just feeling him against her was enough to make her cringe.
The second he grabbed her waist, Scarlet wanted to hurl. Bile was forcing its way up her throat and making it even more difficult to breathe.
He pulled her closer, pushing himself hard against her ass before leaning closer to her ear. “Isn’t it poetic, Little Red? We’re back where it all started.”
The barn.
Oh God.
Sweat started to run down Scarlet’s back, her body trembling almost uncontrollably as she struggled against the sharp claws of fear that gripped her chest and pierced her soul. Her breathing came out in soft whimpers, tears burning their way down her cheeks
Brent dug his fingers into the skin of her waist and she groaned, pinching her eyes closed, despising the way it felt to have him touch her again.
“This is where it all began for you and me, Little Red.” He licked along her earlobe and Scarlet bit her teeth into her lower lip so hard she tasted blood.
“This is where you and I became one. Do you remember that? Do you remember that first time? They say the first time is the one you will always remember.” Good God, this son of a bitch was fucking insane. He sounded like the kind of person who should be rocking
back and forth in a straitjacket on a wooden chair with only the padded walls to keep him company.
His breathing became more labored against her ear, and she felt him grow hard behind her, the most revolting sensation slicing up her spine. The urge to vomit and relieve herself at the same time was almost completely overwhelming as shivers moved through her body, the fear infecting every molecule of her being.
It was happening all over again. It was like she’d been transported back to the day he destroyed her. The barn even smelled the same, even though there weren’t any horses anymore. It still smelled like wood shavings, hay, and leather too. The distinct scent of horse manure, sweat, and dust still hung in the air. As a little girl, she used to love the smell—she loved the horses. But now the smell made her sick to her stomach.
“Do you remember, Little Red? Please say you remember it.” His cold, vile lips were now below her neck, kissing her skin like he was savoring the taste, his one hand palming her ass. It was making her fucking skin crawl.
Scarlet was too busy pushing down the bile in her throat, too busy forcing herself to breathe while enduring his revolting touch that she had no intention of answering his sick, twisted question.
Brent jerked her harder against him and gripped her waist tighter, digging his fingers painfully into her flesh.
“I asked you a question,” he hissed next to her ear. “And I expect you to fucking answer.”
No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t speak. She couldn’t open her mouth since all she wanted to do was scream.
“Fucking answer me!” He grabbed her ponytail and jerked her head back. Scarlet yelped, tears streaming down her face as whimpers of despair rolled over her lips. On the inside, she was so fucking cold it was slicing through her bones. Yet the sweat kept trickling down her back.
“I…”
Oh God, she couldn’t do it. It felt like she was Blanchette all over again—the scared, helpless girl who didn’t have the backbone to fight back while he just took from her what he wanted.
This was the reason Scarlet had spent the last seven years hardening and strengthening herself by building a wall around her heart, keeping everyone out. If she could keep everyone out, no one had the power to hurt her—hurt her like he had.