Chapter 4: Scarlet

4

SCARLET

O f course he'd clammed up as soon as I said anything negative about Cristian, that was just how it was with the brothers it seemed. What were they keeping from me? What didn't I know about Cristian?

It didn't matter right now anyway. My focus needed to be on surviving. Of course I'd gone from the frying pan right into the fucking fire. Story of my life right there.

Kenny had pounced off me, inspecting our new quarters inquisitively, although I clung to his leash out of fear of what they'd do if he slipped through the bars.

I resorted to jiggling the end of it, smiling softly when he padded over and swatted at the handle of the leash. It was something to pass the time, and I dragged it around the floor, making him pounce on it as Julian lolled his head to the side to watch.

I played with Kenny for a while until he grew bored, his eyes narrowing into slits before he slunk under the bed and laid down. I tied the end of his leash to the bed frame, not wanting him to get too far from us. He was the only thing keeping me from losing my shit. Then again, getting all flustered right now was not going to serve me any purpose.

Those fuckers had taken our phones as soon as they'd shoved us into the cars, and I knew they were long gone now, probably tossed into a ditch so they couldn't be tracked.

"Why do you think they put us in together?" I asked after a few minutes crawled by. I was going to get beyond bored. I'd thought I'd had nothing to do at the apartment, how wrong I was.

"Maybe they wanted a show," Julian muttered, and I frowned until it dawned on me, and I scrunched my face up.

"They're that perverted?" I balked.

"Wouldn't put it past them," he mumbled, his eyes closed. "No, it's likely because they only have the one cell. Easier to keep an eye on too."

"I don't see any cameras or anything?" I mused, glancing around once more. Nothing in the area outside the cell save for a desk and chair, and nothing inside either.

"Probably can't see it, could be tiny," Julian muttered.

Right, that was also a possibility.

"How long do you think it'll take?" I asked as I stretched my legs out, wishing I'd be locked up with anyone else. Someone I could actually talk to properly.

"As long as it takes."

Wow, fan-fucking-tastic. So informative. I rolled my eyes at the answer.

"Try to get some sleep, pyro."

"How, there's only one bed? Not to mention sleep seems rather impossible right now, with my life in the balance and all," I snapped.

"You can lay on my chest. I'm not going to sleep, head hurts too much for that, but I'll rest. "

"Lie on your chest?"

"Did I stutter?"

I narrowed my eyes at his smart-ass response.

"Maybe I don't want to get that close."

"Suit yourself. But it could be the last human touch you get, just saying. Besides, I won't try anything. Don't want to give them a show," he said with a heavy sigh.

I scowled, hating that he was right. At least he wouldn't do anything to me. Considering the cuts and gashes all over his arms and chest, all of which had thankfully stopped bleeding not long after he'd come in, I didn't doubt he wasn't up for naughty stuff.

I sighed and moved to lay on top of him, ignoring his grunt as I rested my weight on him. At least he was warm in this chilly cell, something I'd been pretending wasn't bothering me, but the cold had started to make itself known in my fingers.

"You tied him up tight?" Julian mumbled as I rested my head on his chest, a smile playing at my lips when he automatically wrapped an arm around my waist.

"Yeah."

"Good, don't need him slipping through the bars and getting hurt. I'd skin anyone who hurt Kenny."

"Understandably. Too bad he's not like Lassie and can go get help," I murmured as I closed my eyes, soaking up his warmth.

"He's a good cat, we should be grateful he's here."

"Oh, I am." I focused on Julian's steady heartbeat, ignoring the coppery scent of dried blood on his chest, likely getting all over my clothing too. The fact that he was letting me lay on him despite his injuries touched me, but maybe he was just cold too.

I prayed we made it out of here in one piece. I wanted to see Noms again, and Ray.

I stared down at the small skeleton in my arms, the sight gouging a hole in my chest as I sobbed, the bones crumbling into dust between my hands.

Why did this happen to me? Why was she taken from me?

A horrid snicker had my head snapping up as the old room came into focus, the room that had been my prison with him.

He stood over me, sneering down at me.

"You're both better off dead. Absolutely useless."

"Fuck you!" I screamed as I shot to my feet, wanting to claw his eyes out and tear him apart for what he'd done. He'd destroyed me, broken me into pieces, and he deserved to pay for his crimes.

My hands met thin air as he vanished, his sickening laugh echoing around me as the walls closed in, the pain and grief clutching tight at my heart as I crumpled to the floor.

It was so dark here, so cold and suffocating.

"You belong with her. Are you ready to see her again?"

I gasped, sucking in air as my eyes flicked around the room wildly, trying to orientate myself.

Where was I? This wasn't the apartment.

"Scarlet, it's okay."

I stilled, registering Julian's voice and trembling in his arms as he held me tight. One hand slid up to stroke my hair as I drew in ragged breaths.

"It's not okay," I hissed, hating how my voice broke. I didn't want to cry, to let him see this vulnerable side of me.

I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting the waves of emotions threatening to pull me under .

"You're right, it's not. We're locked up, prisoners, but I'm here with you. Kenny is here with you. You're not alone."

I ground my teeth together, finding some comfort in his words as he continued to caress my hair, the strange warmth and gentleness taking me by surprise.

His other hand rubbed my back in soothing circles, and I focused on calming my frantic heart, taking deep, steadying breaths.

"Want to talk about it?"

I pulled back, my sweaty shirt plastering to me as I met those dark eyes. I froze as he reached up to brush some hair from my clammy face.

"No," I mumbled, entranced by the odd softness in his eyes.

"We're going to be here a while, pyro. They say talking about nightmares and trauma helps you overcome it," his voice was gentle, almost sympathetic, and I clenched my jaw.

"Says who?" I said sharply.

"You wanted to chat to pass the time, remember?" he said with a sigh, his hand falling from my face.

"And you just happen to want to ease my mind, huh? Listen to me trauma dump?" I scoffed as I sat up fully, straddling him for a moment before I moved to squish between him and the wall.

He thankfully moved to give me the room to sit, and I pulled my knees up in front of me, the nightmare still fresh in my mind.

"We all have some sort of darkness in our past, love. I told you some of mine," he stated as he sat up and moved to sit beside me, our shoulders touching.

"You keep telling me we aren't friends," I muttered as I rested my chin on my knee.

"True. But we're not strangers anymore, either. I think now's as good a time as any to get to know one another more."

I frowned at him, thrown off by this bizarre side of him. He looked sincere as he watched me, his head cocked to the side. His nose was a little crooked and bruising now, and dried blood speckled the edges of his nostrils.

We were stuck together, and he may potentially be the last person I ever talked to.

Telling someone else my horrors, sharing my pain, maybe it could be something I could use if these were indeed my last moments.

"Okay," I said as I let out a deep breath. "Well, when I was sixteen, my parents sold me to some guy to help fund their addictions. A few months locked in a room at his place, and I fell pregnant," I started, my gaze moving to where Kenny had emerged from under the bed.

He jumped up onto the bed, and I instantly reached out, taking comfort in his soft fur as he rubbed against my legs.

I paused, hating how my throat tightened at the memories of that place, of that room, of him , flashed through my mind like a macabre photo-shoot.

"What happened?" Julian asked as he leaned into my side more, his warmth a small comfort in this hellhole plagued by my horrid past.

"I carried her to full term, he said he wanted us to be a family. He still took advantage of me, used me, and honestly, it's a miracle I didn't miscarry her," I said as I bit back the tears, digging my fingernails into my legs to stave off the pain and despair flirting around me. "I birthed her, right there in that room, all alone because he went out for a beer run. Dunno how I did it, but I did, and then I held her, my beautiful little Lily. Her cries were awakening, and I wanted out of that shit-hole the first chance I got, but I needed to recover. He came home, and seemed happy about her being born in his own way. I wonder if he would've hurt her the way he hurt me," I muttered, the gut-wrenching thought making me feel sick. "But it didn't matter, not even a week later, he went off on me because I wasn't ready to lay with him after giving birth, and he blamed her. Said she was better off dead, we both were, and he suffocated her. I tried to fight him…" My voice broke, and I closed my eyes as a lone tear slid free, betraying my will. "But she died. A few weeks after that, he stupidly left the door unlocked, and I ran back to my parents. I shouldn't have done that, but I did, and they were furious," I spat. I still remembered that day far too vividly.

I was beyond broken, malnourished and bruised, as I stood before my parents' place in the rundown part of town. The lone barking of a dog in the neighborhood had me tightening my arms around me, the cool nip of the night air sending a chill down my spine. My bare feet were cut up from running here, fleeing that wicked man, and I stood silently for a few moments, deliberating my next move. The streetlight had flickered, as if coaxing me onward, and I'd padded up the cracked stone path to the front door, the yard overgrown from years of neglect, weeds snaking up the chipped outside walls. I jumped the broken front step, one that had given way when I was a child when my father had stumbled up it, high as a kite.

It had never been repaired.

My heart hammered as I stood before the front door, fear and uncertainty swirling in my core. Would they be disappointed? They'd told me I was to be his, to take care of him in all the ways he desired.

I'd failed them, but he'd been cruel, he'd hurt me. Taken from me.

I clutched at my now barren stomach, the memory making tears sting my eyes as her cries echoed in my mind. Would they even care? Had they known I was pregnant? I'd not spoken to them since he'd taken me after he'd handed over the money.

But they were my parents, and some small part of me, that lonely, broken child, held hope that they'd protect me, comfort me in this painful time. How I'd found the strength to actually run after everything was beyond me, but I couldn't bear to be there any longer. Not the place Lily had died.

I sucked in a breath and knocked, the screen door rattling from my efforts. A few moments passed before the wooden door behind swung open, my father's scowling face greeting me.

"What do you want?"

I stared at him, my heart plummeting as tears surged to the surface. Did he not care? Did he not even recognize me?

"Dad, it's me," I whimpered, a sob escaping me as his brow furrowed even more.

His eyes were glassy, and I wondered just what he'd taken today. Surely he knew who I was though, right?

"Why are you here?" he barked as he shoved the screen door open, forcing me to take a few steps back to avoid it. "You don't belong here."

"Dad, please, he hurt me, my baby…" I croaked, the sobs tearing me apart.

"You stupid little whore," he spat as he lashed out, grabbing my arm with a vice-like grip. "He's going to come looking for you or his goddamn money."

I cried, the last shreds of my hope crumbling into pieces as he yanked me inside and threw me onto the floor.

"What's this bitch doing back?" my mother slurred as she slid off the stool by the kitchen counter and stood before me. "You belong to what's-his-face now."

"Ma, he hurt me," I cried, bowing my head as the pain clutched my chest.

Why couldn't they care? Why did they hate me so much? Why was I even born?

I cried out as my father yanked me off the floor, my head snapping to the side as pain bloomed in my cheek from the slap.

"You think you can just run from your responsibilities?!" he snarled before tossing me back on the floor.

"You have debts to pay, you little slut," my mother spat. "I knew I should've aborted you. Fucking useless piece of shit."

I cried as I curled into a ball, my father kicking into my already frail body.

I drowned out their harsh words as I cried, hiding in the dark crevices of my mind to escape this hell.

I wasn't sure when it stopped, but finally, with my entire body aching and bruised from my father's beating, my eyebrow and lip split from his boot, they moved off upstairs.

I lay there in agony, wishing I'd died long ago, not wanting to live this hell any longer. I was nothing. I'd had everything taken from me. I had no one.

No. That wasn't true.

I dragged myself from that kitchen floor, stumbling outside, my body screaming in pain as I hobbled down the street. There was a women's clinic, I'd go there, I needed to be seen. Then, I'd find Naomi. She was the one friend I knew I could count on. It'd been too long since I'd spoken to her, having lost all my privileges since I was held in that damn house, but I knew she'd come through for me. We'd promised to be there for one another back in school. After we'd shared our traumas and bonded.

I'd go to her. She was all I had now, and I just prayed she answered my call.