Scarlet Angel

by C. A. Wilke

  Scarlett looked up from her cup and into Rishabh’s eyes. “My past. I’ve lived the last few years in complete ignorance and bliss without it. But now it’s come back for me. I didn’t ask for this.”

  “Then forget, Ji...it, Scarlett. Forget what is past and live in the now.”

  On the way from Universal Dynamics, she had struggled with the idea of going home and leaving whatever troubled past she’d had. Rishabh’s calm voice coupled with her own frustrations grated on her nerves, making her words more forceful than she intended. “I can’t.”

  “Ah.”

  “I can’t even explain why. This is not just an argument I don’t want to let go. This is... who I am.”

  Rishabh sipped loudly from his cup. “It is not where we have been, but rather where we are going that makes us who we are.”

  Scarlett’s irritation evaporated and she cracked a smile. “Oh, please. If I remember anything, it’s that you are NOT a guru.”

  Rishabh laughed with her. “Very true. I am just as much a consumerist and couch potato as anyone else in this building. But my father was. That was something he told me when he bought this place. Of course, at the time he was thinking he would make it rich in real estate, but hey.”

  Scarlett looked back out the window. “Rishabh... what happened? To me? To the guy in F?”

  “I don’t know exactly what happened.” The older man sighed and set his cup on the table. “You survived an accident at your work, just barely. After a few weeks in the hospital, you came home. I remember hearing you come in.”

  He took another sip of chai. “But I never saw you. Never heard you leave. A few days later, the police came, asked a bunch of questions. They told us you were missing.

  ‘Later we heard they thought you were dead. Something about a break-in... Maybe even an attempted rape. That was the rumor anyway.”

  Scarlett’s brow wrinkled. None of it made sense. “What about...?”

  “Frank in F? I don’t know. He’s always been a little off. But since you disappeared, he’s been much worse. Every time someone mentions your name he flies off about listening to the crow, whatever that means.”

  She set her own cup down. “Yeah, he said something about that.”

  Scarlett looked down at her car sitting across the street then at her phone. “Well, Rishabh, it’s getting late. I better go.”

  Rishabh stood and walked over and retrieved a dusty shoebox from above his fridge. “Since you insist on knowing, I have this.”

  She took the box from him. “What is it?”

  “It’s just a few things I saved from your apartment. I’m sorry to say that everything else is gone, but we thought you were dead.”

  Scarlett smiled at him. She reached out and hugged the man. “That’s okay. I understand. Thank you for this, though. And for the cup of tea and the talk. It means a lot.”

  Rishabh walked over and opened the door to the stairwell. “I would say that you need to keep in touch, but you shouldn’t. Go home. Don’t come back. Be happy with who you are now.”

  She just smiled. “I’ll think about it. Bye, Rishabh.”

  He smiled back at her. “You take care.”

  * * *

  Scarlett turned the key in the ignition and the little car’s engine sputtered to life. Warm air spewed forth from the vents, making more sweat bead on her forehead. She always hated it when she forgot to crack the windows.

  She glanced over at the dusty box on the seat next to her. She wanted to know what was inside but dreaded opening it. Rishabh had been right. She was happy. Why did she need to look into what appeared to be a troubled and unhappy past?

  Scarlett thought about Ruby, Cash, Emma and the kids. If her past was dangerous, it was better to just let it be. The last thing she wanted was to endanger anyone in her new family.

  But what about my old family? That thought worried her. She must have had a mother and father in her past life, people who cared about her. Wouldn’t they be happy to see her too? Or would the dangers of her own history come back to haunt them as well?

  No matter how much she wanted to know about her former life and the people it involved, she could not escape the thought of putting them in peril. Even people barely connected to her like Rishabh and Frank in apartment F, with his ramblings about Mr. Crow, could get hurt. If there was any chance of that, she had to avoid it.

  Scarlett came to a decision. She glanced at the box one last time.

  Someday I’ll open you up. But not today.

  Chapter 5

  Whiskey Breath

  It’s funny how when you make up your mind, the universe has a way of yanking you right back on the path it wants you on.

  * * *

  Scarlett’s car slowed to a stop in front of the house she shared with Ruby. The voice of the vehicle’s computer driver made her look up from her commpad. “Destination arrived. Choose alternate parking location.”

  She looked up to see a red minivan in her usual spot and sighed. Dammit, Cash. She thought it was annoying. He thought it was funny. He would even jokingly claim that he was there first.

  “Just park against the curb.”

  The car pulled up to the curb. Across the street, she noticed a vehicle she’d not seen before. The mostly primer-grey sedan was once a creamy yellow but now threatened to leave chunks of rust on the asphalt. With its squared design, she guessed it to be at least thirty years old, probably even before autodrive was standard.

  Given the strange events at Universal Dynamic and her conversation with Rishabh, the unfamiliar car made her wary. Scarlett looked down one side of the street then the other. The late afternoon shadows toyed with her imagination, hinting at men in dark suits lurking in the dark spots.

  Her heart rate quickened. Panic crept in at the edges of her mind until she caught herself. She took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. I’m being paranoid. It probably belongs to a friend of the neighbors.

  Inside the house, everything was quiet. Quieter than usual. There was a news vid playing and no chatter from the kitchen, where Ruby and Cash usually talked. Her keys jingled and she silenced them.

  “Ruby? Cash? Hello?”

  Scarlett stepped deeper into the living room. A million thoughts ran through her mind. Ruby had grown fragile in the five years Scarlett had known her. If no one was there, maybe they were at the hospital.

  Finally, Cash’s voice came from the other room. “In the kitchen, Scarlett.”

  Fear gripped her chest. Something was wrong. There was slight quiver in his voice, despite his attempt at sounding upbeat. She also noticed that he used her full first name instead of her nickname, Scar.

  An image of the beat-up car across the street flashed in her mind. What the hell is going on?

  If something was wrong but Cash was trying to hide it, then they must be in real trouble. She kept her own voice light and casual to play along. “Oh, okay. Be there in a sec. Just want to put my purse down.”

  She let her handbag slide from her shoulder and land on the couch cushion. Scarlett glanced around for anything she could use as a weapon. Her eyes locked onto a fire poker with a wicked hook. Her feet glided across the wood floor without a sound as she retrieved the weapon.

  Scarlett considered kicking the door in but she needed to know what was going on inside first. She approached the swinging door and peeked through the tiny gap. Ruby sat on a tall stool with her hands behind her back. To the older woman’s right, Scarlett saw Cash’s shoulder. His arms were also pulled back.

  She angled to see more of the room when something blocked her view. Scarlett flung her arm up just as the door burst open. The corner of the swinging door smashed into her forearm and threw her backward.

  Her back slammed to the floor. She rolled with the impact and bounded back up. Five years of self-defense training kicked in and she crouched to lunge at her attacker.

  The large figure filled her field of view. The barrel of a small gun aimed at her face made her heart skip a bea
t and she froze.

  Her vision followed the gun back to the hand, along the arm and up to her attacker’s face. The man’s unshaven cheeks were pockmarked with scars and sores from years of fighting and drug use. But it was his voice that turned her heart cold. “Hello, Jillian.”

  The moment the scratchy words grated from his lips, Scarlett knew who he was. This was the man who had tried to kill her five years ago.

  Vertigo swept over Scarlett and her knees gave out. She felt herself falling and heard the man’s words echo in her mind. His voice triggered a cascade of terror-filled memories from that night. The pain, the penetration, his weight on top of her... But most of all, she remembered the man’s rancid whiskey-breath.

  “You.” The words choked in her throat.

  “It’s been a few years, ain’t it. You’s done pretty good, considerin’ yer ‘spose t’be dead.”

  Scarlett struggled to find her voice. Fear paralyzed her throat and dried her mouth. Finally she choked out a few words. “What... what do you want?”

  The man lunged forward and grabbed her blouse, lifting her back to her feet. Forgotten, the fire-poker fell to the floor with a clang. “What I want? What I want?” The man shouted at her, his voice growing in pitch. “I want’cha dead! Yer s’posed t’die five years ago. Now, if I don’ fix that, they’s gonna’ kill me. And ain’t nobody killin’ me!”

  The powerful fist flung Scarlett to the side and over the couch. She sailed through the air, her arms flailing. Her body slammed into the floor, hard. Her ears rang from the impact and her head swam.

  The man landed next to her with a loud thump and seized her hair. He yanked her up and slammed her into the mirror hanging on the wall. The mirror and the wall behind it fractured, sending glass and drywall dust onto the console table below.

  Scarlett struggled to breathe as the man spoke, but the impact knocked the wind from her lungs. “Now, I’m gonna’ finish the job, just like I started.”

  The man shoved his pistol into his waistband. His hand closed around her neck and held her against the wall. Powerful fingers gripped her throat and cut off the trickle of air she had been able to get.

  Scarlett knew what came next. The memory of the last time he choked her flashed in her mind. This time there would be no second chance; he would make sure she was dead.

  She reached for the man’s face, but his arms were longer than hers. Just like before, her arms thrashed about, reaching for anything. Her chest shook with convulsions, trying desperately to get air. She looked into the man’s eyes and felt the sick pleasure and rage that filled them.

  Her vision blurred from the tears and her lungs burned. All she could think about was what would happen to Cash and Ruby when he was done with her.

  Darkness crept in on the edges of her vision until she could only see the man’s face. But the blackness did not stop. It continued to swallow the world. In that last moment before everything was gone, something inside Scarlett snapped.

  She refused to be the victim again. Scarlett had no idea why this man wanted her dead, but that did not matter anymore. As she felt her consciousness begin to fade, she also felt a fire ignite in her chest.

  Scarlett’s fingers closed on the brass shaft of a candlestick sitting on the table. She swung her hand up hard and felt the impact of her weapon against the side of the man’s head.

  In the black of near unconsciousness, the grip on her throat disappeared. The candlestick slipped from her fingers and clattered to the floor. A second later, she followed.

  Scarlett landed on her hands and knees and gasped for air. Pain ripped through her chest as the oxygen-starved muscles struggled for every molecule. Her neck burned with each breath she took in and every cough she hacked out.

  She struggled against the void. All she could hear was the pounding of her own heart, the ragged sounds of her labored breaths and the dry hacking of her coughs. After a few minutes, her heart slowed and her breathing became almost normal. Between coughs, she heard Cash’s and Ruby’s muffled shouts from the other room.

  A fresh round of agony tore through her throat when she spoke “It’s okay... I’m okay, I think.”

  She opened her eyes and blinked away tears. A few feet away, she saw her assailant lying on the ground with his eyes closed.

  Scarlett climbed to her feet and was gripped by a new kind of terror. Surrounding the man’s head was a growing pool of blood.

  Chapter 6

  The First

  What is murder? Is it the taking of an innocent life? Is it killing a scumbag who really deserved it? Even if he killed you first?

  * * *

  Scarlett stared at the motionless body lying face down on the floor. She thought it funny that she would notice the man’s grimy plaid shirt, stained jeans and sweat-soaked hair. Looking over the body, she realized she didn’t even know the name of the man she just killed.

  Or did I?

  Her attacker’s back rose and fell in shallow breaths. He was alive.

  Relief and disappointment rushed over her. She didn’t want to kill anyone, even though she wanted him dead. Scarlett could not reconcile those two feelings.

  A low moan escaped from the man’s lips. His hand twitched and Scarlett sprang into action. She reached down, pulled the small pistol from his waistband, and shoved it into her own.

  Scarlett marched out of the room and into the kitchen. Ruby and Cash sat against the far wall, still bound to their chairs with gags in their mouths. “Are you guys okay?”

  The two mumbled their confirmations.

  She ran over to Cash and fumbled with the knots holding his wrists. After a few moments, the rope loosened and came undone. Once Cash’s hands were free, Scarlett moved to the sink. “Help her out, please. I need to take care of something.” Scarlett filled a glass of water and left the room.

  Back in the living room, Scarlett grabbed her attacker by his greasy shirt and yanked him onto his back. She reached down and lifted one eyelid to see only white.

  She set the glass on the narrow table nearby. Oh no you don’t. With a strength she did not know she had, she seized the man’s shirt and lifted him to his feet. Scarlett slammed him into the wall where he’d held her just moments ago.

  She grabbed the glass of water and splashed it across the man’s face He sputtered a breath. “What the hell?”

  Scarlett shoved the man against the wall, sending more drywall to the floor. “Who sent you?”

  His eyes crossed for a moment then he focused on her face. “What?”

  “I said ‘Who sent you’!”

  The man smiled faintly and closed his eyes. “Piss off.”

  Scarlett pulled the man away from the wall and shoved him into the depression again. “Tell me.”

  “Why? He’s gonna kill me anyway.”

  He? Scarlett felt the wind fall from her sails.

  Her grip relaxed. The intruder took advantage of her distraction and thrust his arms up. Scarlett’s hands came free. She stumbled back enough to let the man’s wild haymaker miss her nose by a few inches.

  Scarlett’s martial arts training kicked in again. In her mind, she saw the moves play out. She guided his passing hand and pushed it, spinning him more than he intended. Taking advantage of his unbalanced state, she stepped up to him and brought her elbow across the man’s cheek. He crumpled to the floor.

  She knelt down beside him. “Who sent you?”

  His eyes flickered as he struggled to stay awake. “Why should I tell you?”

  Scarlett was not sure what made her say her next words, they just seemed to flow from her lips. “Because I’ll kill you quickly. You can bet they won’t be so nice.”

  The man’s breaths came in ragged gasps. “Fine... Derrick. Derrick Martins.”

  The name stung. She was not quite sure why, but that man’s name, connected with her attempted murder was like a knife to her heart. “Why? Who am I to him?”

  A cough burst from the man’s lips. “I don’t know. I think it had so
mething to do with the accident, the explosion.”

  Scarlett’s confusion only deepened. Scraps of memories raced through her mind, but none of it made sense. She looked down at the floor and the smeared blood puddle. “I...”

  Her vision exploded in a flash of pain and light. She felt her body falling backward and her mind threatened to black out. Scarlett resisted the urge to slip into the darkness and landed hard on the floor.

  She shook her head just in time to see the man lunging at her. His body descended toward her with his hands outstretched toward her throat.

  Without thinking, Scarlett flipped her legs up. Her thighs clamped down around her attacker’s neck. His body slammed into her, shoving her along the smooth floor with his momentum. He fell to the floor with a thud and scrambled to get traction.

  Scarlett locked her ankles and squeezed her legs like a vise. Rage filled her again, rage at her own distraction and the opportunity she had given him. Her eyes burned and her lips were curled in anger. She watched as his arms flailed, trying anything to reach her. She clenched her teeth and relished in his helplessness.

  His eyes bulged in his skull. Their gazes locked for a brief moment. Then she wrenched her legs to the side, snapping his neck with a sickening crack.

  Scarlett’s fury evaporated instantly. She looked down at the burst blood vessels around the white edges of his eyeballs. The horror of what she’d just done slammed into her chest and took her breath away.

  Cash and Ruby burst through the door to find Scarlett with her legs around the dead man’s head. Ruby was the first one to speak. “Oh my.”

  Scarlett glanced up at her brother and mother then back down to the man she’d just killed. Her face was a mask of shock and terror. She shoved herself away from the now lifeless body. With her back to the wall, she stared at the motionless corpse.

  “I killed him. I don’t even know who he was, and I killed him.”

  Chapter 7

  A Magic Trick

  The physical act of taking someone’s life is easy. Living with it, now that’s the hard part.

  * * *

  Ruby dabbed the washcloth on Scarlett’s arms and face, erasing the tiny splatters of blood. Scarlett knew she would always see those red spots, always feel their sick wetness against her skin. Even several minutes later, she could still feel the crack of the man’s neck reverberate through her bones.