SCARLET
The dreams were back. Scratch that. The nightmares were back. I really shouldn’t have been surprised seeing as I had been safe for three years and was then suddenly thrown right back into the world that I’d run from. Right back into the world where someone tried to kill me.
In my family, when you turned twenty-one, you inherited your money. Your trust fund, if you will. And not only did you get your trust fund, you started to get jobs. Don’t get me wrong, you learned at a young age what it was to be a part of an organized crime family. You learned that violence was always the answer. You learned to keep your mouth shut. And you learned to cover up your illegal money with legal businesses.
But when you turned twenty-one, the responsibilities kicked in. You got your own business to run, your own stocks to take care of, and you were let in to the world in a way you hadn’t been allowed to be previously. At least that’s how it was with the Dalcas. My fucked-up family. And on the night of my twenty-first birthday, someone tried to kill me. But the thing is, it wasn’t some outside attack like we were always expecting, always waiting for. This one had to be an inside job because it happened in my own damn house.
My family’s mansion. The mansion that was heavily guarded at all times by men with assault rifles, years of training, and a supposed loyalty to the Dalca family. But whoever it was that snuck into my room that night was met with a woman who had been trained just as hard as the men. I fought that asshole the entire time. But when I felt the blade slice across my throat, I swore that was going to be the end.
I could still remember the feeling of blood oozing over my fingers as I fell to my bedroom floor. I figured I would lie there and bleed out, or he’d finish the job quickly to shut me up. But he knelt beside me and looked me in the eyes. God, I would never forget his eyes. His entire face was covered in a ski mask, but those fucking eyes stared me down.
“I think I’d like to sample the goods before your body gets cold,” they said in a whisper. “And scream all you want, baby. No one is here to save you. I like it when my women fight me.”
Adrenaline flooded my body as he grabbed onto my pajama shorts and ripped them off my body in one hard tug that burned my skin. My jaw bled freely as I used every ounce of strength I had left to fight him off. He underestimated how small I was, and I was able to turn over in his grasp and get a good right hook in. He stumbled back just enough that I freed a leg and kicked him hard in the crotch.
He doubled over on the carpet, and I ran to my window, my hands shaking from a fear I had never felt before. Hot tears were falling down my cheeks, mixing with the blood on my neck. I had screamed plenty in those few minutes we were fighting, and no one had come running. I was unguarded. I had to get out.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, come on!” Finally, I got the window unlocked and climbed out of it, holding on to the ledge with my hands and stretching my body out to lessen the fall from the second story. I landed in the bushes and rolled to the cold ground. The wind was knocked out of me, and my entire body was screaming from the impact. But I knew I had to get to the garage and get a car and get the fuck out of that house.
I ran through the slick grass, half-naked and barefoot. I couldn’t stop crying, but I also couldn’t stop running. There was no room for weakness in this world, and I was losing too much blood. I needed to get a car and get to a hospital and then get the hell out of this city before they could find me and finish the job. I took the first car I could find the keys to and sped the entire way to the hospital, crying and clutching my neck.
“Stay alive, bitch. Stay alive.” I blasted the music and had the air on cold, full blast. I just had to make it to the hospital. When I finally arrived, I stumbled in through the emergency room and left the car in the garage. My family was so wealthy, they wouldn’t even miss it. I stole some clothes from the lost and found and snuck out once the doctors had stitched me up. If I had stayed any longer, someone would’ve reported the incident, and they could’ve found me.
Never leave a trail. The family motto. So I snuck out into the night and made a plan.
I had made it for three years. Three whole years of working four different jobs just to survive. Three years of living in shitty apartments with shittier roommates. But at least it was my life I had made for myself, and no one was lurking in the corners trying to kill me. Three whole years of pure and blissful peace.
So when I woke up in the unfamiliar mansion, throat raw from screaming, and violently punching what felt like a brick wall, I was instantly transported back there. Back to that night with a man on top of me, ripping my pants off.
“Scarlet Izabela Dulca! Wake the fuck up!”
My eyes flew open and met angry dark ones. Sebastian. He was on top of my hips, his hands trying to hold my arms to the mattress, and his hair was mussed from sleep. And probably from fighting me.
“Get the fuck off of me!” I shouted loud enough to wake the dead. Sebastian’s hands flew up in surrender as he rolled off me and sat on the other side of the bed. I was trying to get my breathing under control because I was going to hyperventilate if I didn’t calm the fuck down. My entire body was frozen in place. I had to tell myself I was fine. There was no one trying to rape me. There was no one trying to kill me.
“Pet?” Sebastian’s voice was a little more than a whisper. He reached out slowly to place his hand in mine. I squeezed it so hard I thought I might break his bones, but he didn’t even flinch.
“I’m sorry if I punched you,” I said through gritted teeth. “You didn’t deserve it this time.”
He laughed and lay down next to me, still letting me crush his hand. The mattress shifted as he curled up next to me, his bare chest brushing against my arm before tossing one of his legs over mine. The pressure across my body was calming.
“It’s okay. Little pain never hurt anyone.”
I felt his smile even though I couldn’t bring myself to look at him just yet. I had worked so hard to not be afraid of my nightmares, to not be ashamed of what happened to me. His other hand came up to my face and he trailed his finger lightly over the scar. I flinched but let him continue. “Who did that to you, little one?”
“Someone that definitely didn’t get what they deserved.”
“Mm,” he murmured, taking my jaw in his hand and running his thumb along the jagged line instead. He nuzzled his face into my hair. “I can remedy that.” I took a deep breath. “Do you want to hear what I would do to them, princess?” Before I could stop myself, I gave a slight nod. Despite myself, I was curious as to what his particular brand of torture would be.
“Yes,” I whispered.