by Bella J.
“You okay back there?” Scarlet asked, and the woman’s eyes shot up to hers. All she did was nod, and then looked back down.
“We need to get you cleaned up first,” the other woman said, still clutching the leather ensemble in her hands. She turned her attention to the woman by the door. “Gaan tap vir die vrou ‘n bad. Sy stink.”
What the fuck was that? That was a language Scarlet had never heard before in her life. Was it German?
The woman by the door rushed to the en-suite bathroom and Scarlet heard the bath running. Even though under normal circumstances Scarlet would have been extremely excited over the prospects of taking a bath and washing the smell of horse dung and Brent’s touch off her, she was real nervous about what was going down.
Naked women, a room full of lingerie, a psychopath, and an attractive man with a demon possessed soul all made Scarlet less thrilled about the idea of taking a bath. In fact, she was willing to bet that the filthier she was, the better her chances of not getting touched—or worse. Although, this was a bunch of twisted individuals, and with her luck lately, they were probably into filthy woman smelling like horse crap.
It took the two bra-less wonders all of twenty minutes to get Scarlet washed and cleaned. Getting bathed by two half-naked women was not on Scarlet’s list of the top ten best experiences of her life. It was disturbing on the most uncomfortable level.
For the entire twenty minutes, Scarlet tried to get their names and make small talk. She was a nervous talker. But clearly, those two weren’t, and they gave Scarlet nothing. No names, no details—nothing.
With a stomach that felt like it had been filled with cement and a throat that was about half an inch from closing completely, Scarlet endured the bath, dressing, and grooming from hell.
The strapless leather bustier pushed her cleavage up, making it seem even bigger than it already was. And the tiny black thong with the black garter belt and stockings completed the entire prostitute look.
“Okay, seriously,” Scarlet started. “I am not wearing this to dinner, unless you’re hiding a wrap-around dress around here somewhere.”
The woman with the sad eyes looked at her and smiled halfheartedly. If that was supposed to reassure Scarlet—epic fail.
The other woman started pulling a comb through Scarlet’s hair, but Scarlet jerked forward. “Excuse me. Did you not hear me? I am not going downstairs in this. So can you please give me my clothes back?”
She shook her head. “That is what you will be wearing. Now please stand still so I can finish your hair.”
Just when she stepped in front of Scarlet, reaching for her hair again, Scarlet head butted her right in the fucking face.
The woman doubled over, holding both her palms to her nose.
“You bitch!”
“Yes, well, I did tell you I’m not wearing this ridiculous prostitute outfit. This isn’t Pretty Woman.”
The door flung open and a man Scarlet hadn’t seen before stormed in. “What the fuck is going on here?”
“She attacked me,” the woman with the now bleeding nose shouted.
When the man rushed toward Scarlet, she ran to the other side of the bed, and then over it when he followed her. As she jumped off the bed, she scraped her leg against the bedside cabinet, tearing the stocking she was wearing.
Fuck this shit. She couldn’t do this anymore. She needed to get the fuck out of there.
Scarlet ran down the long hallway, passing all of the other bedrooms. While she ran, she tried to figure out how the hell she would be able to get out.
As a little girl, she and Willow would play in her grandmother’s bedroom. It was the only bedroom with a patio that overlooked the entire estate. There used to be a large trellis covered with the most beautiful pink bougainvillea that she and her sister would climb off of, pretending to be princesses trapped inside a castle. Hopefully it would still be there and Scarlet could use it to get out.
Just as she rounded the corner on her way to her grandmother’s bedroom, an elbow came from out of nowhere and knocked her right in the face, sending her falling flat on her ass. It felt like someone had hit her with a fucking brick.
“Fuck,” she groaned, placing her hand on the left side of her face. Her eyes watered, and one of them felt like it had been popped right out of her skull.
Still groaning, she managed to squint with her one eye. She looked up and into the blue eyes staring down at her.
Rex smirked. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there.”
Like fuck he didn’t see her.
“And where are you rushing off to, sweetheart?”
Scarlet pushed herself up from the floor, staggering a little. “I thought I heard someone yell fire, so I ran.”
He laughed. “I can see why he’s been obsessed with you all these years.”
“Who?” Scarlet checked her palms for traces of blood from her face, but luckily there was none.
“Brent, of course.” He leaned against the wall, pulling his one leg up, his hands tucked in his pockets. One would never guess he’d just almost knocked her the fuck out with an elbow. “It’s my understanding he’s been searching for you for quite some time.”
Scarlet pretended to be preoccupied with yet another tear in her stockings. “Yeah, well, it’s my understanding you’re one twisted son of a bitch—just like him.” Finally giving up trying to cover some thigh skin, she straightened and met his gaze. “You two should make the perfect evil couple, don’t you think?”
He pushed himself off the wall, his gaze slowly moving down her body like he was taking in every inch of her. “That would probably be true if I didn’t love pussy so much.”
“Well then, you’d make an excellent couple since Brent is the biggest pussy I know.”
Rex kept a straight face for all of five seconds before he burst out laughing. “Damn, that mouth of yours, woman.”
“I get that a lot.” Scarlet glanced over his shoulder and saw her grandmother’s bedroom door. If she could only get there, she would be able to get out.
Rex noticed. “You contemplating another escape plan inside that pretty little head of yours?”
She snorted. “Believe me, nothing inside this head of mine is pretty. “
He stepped closer, staring down at her breasts while biting into his lower lip. “Oh, you and me both, sweetheart.”
He traced a finger up her arm, and it made her damn skin crawl.
“Come on, I’m starving.” He wrapped his hand around her elbow and started to lead her down the hall. Of course the little bimbo Scarlet head butted earlier came running toward them, still clutching her bloody nose.
“You bitch. You broke my fucking nose.” The woman went straight for Scarlet, and Rex had to push himself between them. The crazy-ass woman tried to fling her fists around Rex, but the man was like fucking concrete—there was no getting around him.
“Calm down, Carla.” The blonde bimbo had a name.
“She attacked me,” Carla seethed.
Rex glanced over his shoulder at Scarlet, and all she could do was shrug.
He turned back to the raging woman. “Calm down, and go clean up your face.”
“But…Rex, she—”
A loud crack sounded and Scarlet flinched when Rex hit Carla hard across the face—so hard that she spun around from the force and landed face-first on the floor.
Scarlet yelped and covered her mouth with her hand.
Rex reached down and pulled Carla up by her hair while he leaned closer to her ear. “If you ever call me Rex again, my cock will be the last thing you feel before I snap your neck. Do you hear me?”
Carla whimpered. “Yes, master.”
He pushed her head into the floor as he released her hair. “Good. Now get yourself cleaned up, and I don’t want to see that bruised face of yours until it’s healed. No one likes to fuck a troll.”
He straightened his collar, then grabbed Scarlet’s elbow, his grip way stronger than before, and started pulling
her down the hall.
Jesus. It was like this guy went from cool and calm to a fucking animal in a split second.
Suddenly the urge to make snarky, sarcastic remarks wasn’t so strong anymore. Her instincts about this man were right. The darkness she saw in his eyes wasn’t her imagination, which meant there was no more fucking around with this one.
Rex all but dragged her down the stairs, his grip around her elbow tightening with every step they took. Lucky for her they never got around to putting shoes on her feet, otherwise she would have face planted a few times by now.
“Where’s that smart mouth of yours now, Miss Woods?” He didn’t look at her, and Scarlet didn’t answer.
Rex led her into the dining room and the first person she saw was Colton, who was standing on the other side of the room by the fireplace, looking worried. When his eyes met hers, he paled. Of course he paled. She was dressed like a fucking hooker.
Brent was already sitting at the end of the dark wood dining table, leaning back in his chair like he was fucking royalty.
“Gentlemen, look who I found running around.” Rex shoved her forward and she suddenly felt completely naked. There were four men standing down the side of the dining room, holding their shotguns at the ready like fucking bodyguards.
Two cold hands wrapped around her shoulders. “And look, she’s all dressed up with nowhere to go,” Rex said. “But not to worry, we have a special place set up for you so that everyone can admire your outfit.”
He urged her to walk toward the table, and pulled out a chair with his foot. “Get on.”
“What? You want me to get on the table?” Scarlet asked, confused.
He smiled. “Look up, sweetheart.”
When she looked up, her heart stopped. Every ounce of blood felt like it had been drained from her body as she stared at the roof in horror.
Chains. There were fucking chains hanging from the ceiling.
“What is this?”
“This is part of the entertainment for the evening, sweetheart.”
Scarlet shook her head and tried to step back. “No way.”
Rex took a fist full of her hair and jerked her head back. “Are you saying no to me?” He leaned closer to her ear. “Because if you are, I can assure you it will be the last time you ever said no to anyone.”
The threat in his voice was loud and clear. The shudders that wracked her body had her gasping for air. The atmosphere in the room was nothing short of toxic, poisoning her. The urge to vomit and cry at the same time was so strong she had to bite the inside of her mouth to keep her from erupting in a giant piece of pathetic womanhood.
“Get up on the fucking table, sweetheart. And do not make me ask again.”
Scarlet felt a shiver move down her spine, and with the amount of fear pulsing through her veins she didn’t think her legs would be able to hold her up long enough.
Rex held her hand until she was standing on the table, then he turned to Brent. “Would you like to do the honors, Mr. Wolfe?”
A wicked grin spread across Brent’s face. “Oh, yes, I would.”
Brent stood up and stepped onto the chair. As he got on the table, Scarlet gave a step back. “Do not touch me,” she seethed while staring at him wildly. Even with his dark blue suit he was still one ugly motherfucker. Everything about him disgusted her. The way he looked at her, the way he smiled, the way he walked, the way he fucking breathed.
“What’s the matter, Little Red? There was a time you liked my touch, remember?”
“Fuck you, Brent.”
From the corner of her eye she saw Rex take a seat at the other end of the table. He placed his elbows on the table and rubbed his chin with his fingers, his brows furrowed as he continued to watch them.
“I would willingly let myself be tied to these chains, just as long as it’s not by him,” Scarlet said to Rex, desperate not to have Brent touch her.
Rex leaned back in his chair, still rubbing his chin, studying her with so much intent it made her shift from one leg to the other.
“Miss Woods, he is your master. So he needs to do the binding.”
“He’s not my master. He’s nothing of mine,” she bit out through clenched teeth, glaring in Brent’s direction.
“Well, Mr. Wolfe, it seems you still have quite a lot of training to do with this one. Which reminds me, where is her collar?”
Brent grinned wickedly. “I like them wild and untamed. And as for the collar, she hasn’t behaved well enough to deserve one yet.”
“And she doesn’t plan to either,” Scarlet sneered. “You can shove that collar of yours up your ass.”
Brent gave a few slow steps across the sturdy table until he came within inches of her, his malicious eyes staring into hers. “Like I used to shove my cock up your tight little ass?”
Two heartbeats. That was how long it took for Scarlet to lose her shit. At that moment, she was so enraged with the most intense kind of hate that she completely lost it, and punched him in the face. She didn’t even feel the pain resonating through her hand. All she felt was cold, hard rage, and she really, really wanted to kill him in the cruelest way.
“I’m going to kill you, you fucking asshole!” She grabbed the side of his face, aiming for his ear, wanting to rip it off. But he moved, and she scratched the skin of his cheek, drawing blood.
But she wasn’t done.
All she saw was a thousand different shades of red. All she felt was his filthy hands on her skin, touching her in places he never had the right to. With every flashing memory, Scarlet punched and kicked and screamed. It was like the devil himself gave her the strength and the anger to inflict as much pain as humanly possible. She wanted to tear this son of a bitch apart.
Brent tried to cover his face as she kept pounding her fists into him. She didn’t care if the fuckers with the shot guns blasted her fucking brains out. All she cared about was punishing Brent, making him feel the pain she felt when he ruined her multiple times.
“I hate you!” she yelled. “I fucking hate you, you son of a bitch.”
Brent managed to grab her wrist when she tried to land another punch, and grabbed her around the throat before slamming her back first onto the table.
“You bitch!” he shouted, spitting on her face. But she didn’t care. Even though she had the breath knocked out of her, she wasn’t about to give up.
Brent tried to straddle her while taking hold of both her wrists, and she tried to kick him in the back. But someone grabbed her ankles and all she could do was thrash beneath Brent and continue to scream.
“Get off me!” She kept thrashing. “Get the fuck off me!”
Brent hit her hard across the face with the back of his hand, but she felt nothing. Whether it was the adrenaline, the hate, or a lethal mixture of both, Scarlet didn’t feel the pain. She heard the smack, but didn’t feel a thing. All she felt was the desperate need to fight, and to tear Brent apart.
Scarlet tried to lift her shoulders off the table, wanting to head butt the fucker in the face, but Brent grabbed ahold of her throat with both hands and started to squeeze. Instinctively, she reached for his hands, trying to loosen his grip, but he just kept tightening his hands around her throat until she started gasping and choking for air, the pressure causing her lungs to burn.
Within seconds the only thing she heard was the sound of her heart, as if it was beating inside her head, her ears ringing as the air in her lungs became less and less. The anger she felt just a few seconds ago was gone, replaced with the only thing that mattered—survival.
Scarlet tried to pull his hands away from her throat, clawing and scratching, desperate to take a breath, but he was too strong.
Just as Scarlet started to think he was finally going to do it, that he was finally going to kill her and end it all, there was a loud crack of a gunshot.
Brent immediately let go of her throat and looked up while Scarlet coughed, trying to suck in as much oxygen as possible. The air burned as it started to fil
l her lungs, and she leaned her head to the side, not sure if she wanted to cry or vomit.
Rex was standing next to the table, holding up a gun, his expression unreadable.
“Well, this is not exactly what I had in mind when I said I was in the mood for entertainment.”
Brent grabbed her wrists, spread her arms wide, and pinned them down. “Riggs, grab the chains.”
Scarlet tried to get free, but she was too weak—her body was too weak. Feeling exhausted and defeated, all she could do was watch as Colton hesitantly helped Brent tie the chains around one wrist before moving around the table and tying the other.
Her chest was still burning with every breath she took, Brent’s weight making it even harder to breathe normally.
“You spoiled, disrespectful little slut,” Brent growled.
She closed her eyes since she knew what was coming. Her face jerked to the side as his palm hit her cheek. This time she did feel the impact, the sting on her skin. It felt like her lip had been torn at the corner, and judging by the metal taste on her tongue, it probably was.
Her ears were ringing, her cheek burning, and her body became numb. It was over. There was no more fight left inside her. Brent had won, and now he would claim his reward…her.
Scarlet slowly opened her eyes and saw Colton staring at her. His expression was pained—conflicted—and she saw the sadness in his eyes as he fastened the last chain. He hated this as much as she did. But there was nothing he could do at this point, and they both knew it.
Colton shook his head and then walked out of the dining room. All Scarlet could do was watch him leave, stare at his back as he left the dining room.
That was when she knew things were about to get real bad. If Colton couldn’t handle it anymore and was leaving her alone with all these men, then she was about to get a taste of hell.
Brent leaned down and he dragged the tip of his tongue from her ear, all along her jaw, until he licked at the blood in the corner of her mouth.
“Hmm,” he moaned. “They say a person’s soul is in the blood. If that’s true,” he brushed his lips across her cheek until he reached her ear, “then your sweet taste will force me to suck you dry.”
