“Shit,” I mutter. I look up the stairs, my last place to look. I head up slowly, taking in my surroundings cautiously. I hope she is here, yet by the looks of this place, I pray she isn’t. A door is open just barely at the top of the stairs letting some light shine through. I slowly push it open, finding a guy pulling on some girl’s hair that is colored ink black, fucking her from behind. I pull away from the door and head to the right where another door is open. Peeking through the crack, there are a couple of people sleeping on a stained rug on the floor, and what sounds like a shower running from behind a lit-up door next to a bed. I pull away and run my hands over my face, frustrated. I have come up empty handed again, at the end of the road.
What the fuck would I have done when I found Scarlett is beyond me. I just felt like I needed to find her. I head toward the stairwell, anger overwhelmingly making me grit my teeth. A door right next to the banister catches my eye; it’s closed with just a bit of light glittering beneath it. I grab the door handle, silently praying she is behind this door, and push it open. My eyes widen and my heart stammers against my chest frantically. A pale, thin, redhead is sprawled across a coverless mattress on her back. Wearing nothing but a black ripped up bra and tan panties. Her ribs are sticking out as if she were decaying road kill, her knobby knees slightly lifted from the bed. I walk in and hurry to the side of the mattress, scared to let myself believe I have finally found her. I look the girl over. It has to be her; she looks just like Babs too. This girl’s hair is darker than Babs’, but is still red. She has pale skin and those fucking freckles like Babs. I close my eyes, the pain that she looks like Babs is too much.
“Can I help you?”
I look behind me and find a guy in a tied leopard robe leaning against the door jam. He has dark, long hair and a boney chin with protruding cheek bones. His brows furrowed and calculated as he stares at me with curiosity.
“Nope, think I got it,” I reply curtly, staring back at the fucker with a vengeance.
“You know her?” he questions, nodding toward who I assume is Scarlett. His beady eyes watching me closely, his face smug.
“Yeah, I do,” I respond. I’m almost one hundred percent sure this is Scarlett. I look back down at her and notice how strung out she looks. Her head is hung over the bed, her mouth parted open. She’s toked out of her damn mind. I cannot leave her like this. I can’t walk away from her in such a mess.
“What is she hooked on?” I ask, looking around the nightstand for some kind of sign what she may be addicted to.
“That one? She takes whatever I give her, and gives whatever I ask,” he sneers, his tone arrogant and pissing me off. My head snaps up from looking at Scarlett, glaring at him.
“Not anymore,” I inform harshly. I reach down and place my arm under Scarlett’s neck gently and one under her thin back, lifting her from the stained bed.
As soon as her back leaves the mattress, I feel cold steal press against the back of my neck, sending a shiver through my spine and regret that I let him out of my sight. I know better.
“I don’t think that’s an option, old man. Now put her down,” he demands, pressing a gun to the back of my head. I inhale slowly, laying Scarlett back on the bed.
“Give me your wallet,” he instructs, tapping the gun on the back of my neck. I turn my head slightly gritting my teeth. This cannot be fucking happening. I look back down at Scarlett, that face that reminds me of Babs is killing me. I wasn’t there for Babs, and in return, Babs isn’t here for Scarlett. I can’t walk away. I close my eyes and prepare myself for what I’m about to do.
I reach my hand up, like I’m grabbing my wallet. When I have my hand up just enough, I slam my elbow down on the druggie’s inner arm, making him fire the weapon before dropping it. I look at Scarlett briefly, just to make sure she wasn’t hit by the stray bullet. I turn my gaze back to the druggy, who is looking down at the gun that dropped by my feet, his eyes off me. I stalk forward and grab the back of his head and his wet hair, and bash my forehead into his skull.
Pain swamps through my scalp as the guy stumbles back before falling to his ass. I shake my head, trying to clear the blurry vison from the impact. I walk up to the fucking prick and slam my boot into his gut. He has to be the guy in charge. He let Scarlett do this to herself, feeding her drugs for whatever he desires. He grunts in pain, grabbing his stomach. I pull my gun from my waist and point it at him.
“I am taking her, do you understand me?” I growl, my upper lip curling with irritation, my tone rough and furious. I’ll kill every motherfucking strung out person in this house before I leave without Scarlett.
He nods profusely, his hair that was once slicked back now disheveled. I squint at him, taking in his suddenly frightened face. I am not sure if he is a pimp, drug lord, or what he is, but I don’t trust him. I aim my gun at his shoulder and pull the trigger, slamming a lug right into his flesh. He screams, clawing at his arm where I just shot him.
I turn and head back to the bed, quickly grabbing Scarlett’s limp body, and throwing her over my shoulder. She weighs next to nothing, and that concerns me. I head down the stairs. The three people who were on the couch asleep, now in the middle of an orgy. As soon as I step outside, I’m introduced to crisp clean air. I inhale deeply, trying to get that toxic shit that was in that house out of my lungs. Reaching my car, I place Scarlett in the passenger side, buckle her in, and jump in.
I drive silently, nothing but the sound of the tires on the freeway. I take my eyes off the road and back to Scarlett, her face is so thin and pale, her nose pinker than it should be. Was she like this when Babs was alive? Surely Babs wouldn’t let Scarlett do this to herself. A small strand of dark red hair falls in front of her face. Off instinct, I take my grip from the steering wheel and brush it behind her ear softly.
I pull my hand from her face and place my hand back on the steering wheel, looking at the pavement. I hesitated looking for Scarlett when Doc gave me the information. Thought it would be pointless. After looking at Scarlett and the condition she is in, I might be the only one to save her. Maybe we can save each other.
I pull into the club, get out, unbuckle Scarlett, throw her over my shoulder, and head inside the club.
“Who the fuck is that?” Old Guy asks in a high-pitched voice, pointing at Scarlett.
“This is Babs’ niece,” I reply shortly, heading back to my room.
“What the hell are you doing with her?” Old Guy questions, following me down the hall.
“I dunno. I couldn’t leave her where I found her,” I answer, kicking my door open and placing her half-naked body down on the bed.
“Damn, she looks rough,” Old Guy remarks, surveying Scarlett’s scrawny figure. I scoff and pull a blanket over her body. The thought of him eyeing her angers me.
“We are going to need Doc for sure,” Old Guy informs, shaking his head in dismay.
Agreeing, I pull my phone out and dial Doc.
“Hey, Bull,” Doc answers chipper.
“I am going to need you at the clubhouse.”
“What happened, what do I need to bring?” she replies in a bored tone; she knows the drill.
“It’s Babs’ niece,” I pause.
“You found her!” Doc squeals into the line, her voice excited and shocked. I can’t help but smile.
“Yeah, and she is toked out of her mind,” I answer, the smile I had slowly fading.
“Shit,” she replies. “Okay, I’ll be there in a minute.”
Thirty minutes later, Doc comes into the club, rushing into the bedroom.
“Damn, she looks rough,” Doc says, repeating exactly what Old Guy said.
“Yeah, I know,” I remark exasperated.
Doc walks up to Scarlett, looking her hands and arms over. She pulls the blanket off and looks at her feet, making me squint in confusion.
“Why are you looking at her feet?” I question.
“Track marks,” she replies quickly.
“Jesus,” I whisper, pla
cing my hands on my hips and turning away.
“Give me some time with her,” Doc suggests, putting on some gloves. I hesitate. I don’t want to leave her. I find myself protective over Scarlett for some reason.
“Bull,” Doc whispers, “you can trust me.” I know I can trust her; she has never given me a reason not to. I nod and stalk out of the room, shutting the door behind me. I slide against the wall, my hands in my hair as I fall to the floor. This is a fucking mess.
*****
“Bull.” I look up and find Doc standing above me, my eyes blurred with exhaustion.
“She is awake and delirious,” Doc informs me, her face frantic. I stand immediately and walk into the room. Scarlett is backed up against the wall, the blanket pulled to her neck.
“Who the fuck are you?” she yells, pulling the blanket tighter. Seeing her body in movement, she looks smaller than before.
“I’m Bull. I’m a friend of Babs’,” I reply softly, my hands up in surrender as I step forward.
“Babs?” she says the name, as if she is confused.
“She is really cracked out, Bull; sobriety is not going to be easy,” Doc mutters next to me, her arms crossed in front of her.
“I need something,” Scarlett whines, scratching her arms harshly. The sound of her nails tearing her skin making me cringe.
“What do you need?” I ask, stepping up to her. Scarlett looks at me with a dazed look, her face looking at me as if she just noticed I was in the room.
“I’ll do whatever, just give me something!” she pleads, sitting up on her knees. “You want me to fuck you? Is that it?” Scarlett asks, her eyes spilling tears.
My hand cups my mouth in disbelief. I can’t listen to this girl break so far past who she is destined to be.
I leave the room and shut the door, Doc behind me as Scarlett screams from the withdrawals of her high.
“She needs rehab,” Doc states. I shake my head, refusing to let Scarlett out of my site. The looks of her, the shit she has snorted or smoked, who knows what gangs she has run into. She’s not safe.
Doc grabs both of my arms gently, taking me from my thoughts.
“Bull, this girl needs help. I don’t know if I can give it to her here,” she remarks gently.
“You do this here,” I demand.
“I will try, but I doubt it will be successful,” Doc replies, looking at the closed door.
*****
Doc sedated Scarlett and took some tests after I told her about the nasty fucker who had said he was screwing Scarlett. She said the sedation will help with the withdrawal as we slowly take her down from the substance she was on. Doc found Scarlett had a high amount of cocaine in her system. I am contemplating going back to that crack house and burning it to the ground. It’s on my to-do list.
I walk in the club this morning, day three of Scarlett being here mostly unconscious.
I meet Doc at the bar, coffee in her hands.
“She is ready to come off the sedation. It will still be rough, but she won’t be like she was,” Doc says, placing her coffee on the table. “I don’t feel comfortable keeping her sedated like this without being in the hospital where I can keep a better eye on her,” she continues.
“Is she awake?” I ask, walking toward the hall, not giving Doc a chance to answer me.
I walk down the hall and open the door slowly, and find Scarlett sitting on the bed looking out the window.
“Where is my aunt?” she asks casually, not taking her gaze from the window.
I close my eyes and sit on the bed, dreading this topic.
“She was hit by a car,” I reply.
“She died,” Scarlett informs rather than questions.
“She did,” I reply, nodding.
She doesn’t flinch, just stares. I’m surprised she doesn’t ask about Locks, but not that surprised. Locks probably wouldn’t allow Scarlett back at his house.
“I know what you think.” She takes her gaze from the window and looks at me, those freckles on her cheeks blooming against her pale skin. “You think I’m some junkie whore, but you don’t know anything about me.” Her words scar me, cutting me deep and I don’t know why.
“I don’t know anything about you, you’re right,” I reply. “I am here to help you though.”
She scoffs and looks back at the window. “Don’t waste your time.”
I grab her by the arm and jerk her so she stares at me. Pissed she thinks she is past helping, that she is deemed worthless. If Babs were here, she would surely drag Scarlett out of this room by her hair until she got a grip on life.
“If your aunt were still alive, she would have beaten you within an inch of your life if she saw where you were,” I yell, my voice echoing against the walls.
“Why do you care? Why does it matter to you?” she yells back, her face turning red with anger. I care because she is Babs’ blood. I care because she reminds me of Babs. I couldn’t save Babs. I let her slip right through my fingers. I close my eyes, unsure of an exact answer to give Scarlett.
“Well, you are here in my club, and you will go by my rules. The foremost being no drugs,” I respond, my fist clenching.
“Well, fuck this,” she mouths, scooting off the bed.
“Where do you think you’re going?” I ask, my teeth biting down on my bottom lip as I boil over.
“Out of your fucking club,” she yells, walking out of the bedroom, her red hair flipping down her back. Damn it, she is wearing fucking nothing in a club full of horny men.
“Get your skinny little ass back in that room!” I roar, chasing after her.
She raises her hand and flips me the bird. She is so much like her aunt. I smirk and reach forward, grabbing her by the arm, halting her.
“What are you doing?” she questions, her eyes widening at my hand grabbing her. Ignoring her, I throw her over my shoulder and head back toward the hall as Bobby comes out of the kitchen, his mouth parting with disbelief and eyes widening.
“You can’t do this; this is against the law!” Scarlett yells, pounding against my back.
“I am the law!” I reply, my tone rough.
Bobby smirks. “Just another day at the club,” he smarts, smiling.
I plop Scarlett down on the bed and leave, shutting the door. Holding the door as Scarlett push and pulls on the handle to get out, I look down the hall to see if Bobby is still next to the bar.
“Bobby, get me a lock and latch!” I order. Bobby pops his head around the corner, his brow raised in concern.
“Now!” I demand.
*****
“You what?” Doc questions, looking at the door that is locked from the outside with a padlock.
“She tried to leave. I know she would have went back to that crack house; I couldn’t allow that,” I respond, shrugging.
Doc sighs, throwing her head back in frustration. “You get to walk in first. Just in case she is armed or something,” Doc informs, pointing at the door.
Fuck, I didn’t think about that.
“You didn’t think about that, did you?” Doc asks, looking at me for an answer. I look at her, my brows furrowed.
“Of course I did,” I lie.
I hesitantly unlock the latch and slowly open the door, Scarlett nowhere in sight. Shit. I step in, curious where the hell she went.
“Asshole!” Scarlett yells, swiping a knife at me, barely cutting me along the arm.
Doc screams behind me, backing up. I reach forward quickly and grab Scarlett by her boney wrist.
“Drop it,” I spit. She lets go of the blade, her eyes staring at me intently, but out of anger not fear.
“You can’t keep me locked in here,” Scarlett cries, scratching at her arms.
“I can, and I will.”
“How are you feeling?” Doc says, stepping into the room now that Scarlett is disarmed.
“You are with him?” Scarlett questions in shock.
Doc purses her lips and looks away.
“I’m here to he
lp you, Scarlett, and if locking you in a room does it, then so be it,” I inform, crossing my arms.
“Why do you care so much?” she questions, sitting on the bed.
I shake my head, the answer in my head to her question not making much sense. “I don’t know,” I respond honestly, “but I’m here, and you are here, so why not make the best of it?”
“What does that mean?” she questions with a scrunched up face.
“Be honest, if I let you out, would you run back to that crack house?” I ask brutally. She looks away, chewing on her nails anxiously.
“You need rehab, hun. I have done everything I can from here,” Doc informs, stepping up beside me.
“Ha! Rehab cost money,” she retorts, turning to sit back on the bed.
“I can pay,” I quickly add. She looks up at me, her face softening.
“What?” Scarlett mumbles.
“Would you go if Bull pays for it?” Doc asks, her tone soft and caring.
She lets her head fall in her hands, her frame rising and falling as she sobs.
“It’s not easy, you know?” she remarks, her voice muffled with her cries. Doc pulls my arm back, making me step away.
“She could be too far gone, Bull. Rehab may not work, especially if she doesn’t want help,” Doc informs. I pull away from Doc, stepping toward Scarlett. I won’t believe she is a lost cause. From the looks of her situation, everyone has given up on her, all accept Babs.
“Think of Babs, would she want you to go?” I mutter softly, causing Scarlett to look up at me, her lips parted slightly, tears falling down her face.
“How was my aunt hit by a car, what happened?” Scarlett asks, looking up at me with tear stained cheeks.
Unsound Page 18
