Page 92 of Taming Scarlet

I’d never had a hangover so intense before.

But that was because…

My eyes shot open as panic swelled in my system.

I hadn’t been drinking.

Well, two mimosas.

It wasn’t the liquor.

It was whatever had been stabbed into my skin; it was the cold liquid that brought with it almost instant unconsciousness.

The last memory I had was lying in the trunk, staring up at the face of a man who I’d been forced to endure the presence of in my home for several weeks before, suddenly, he was gone.

I didn’t even know what I’d done to scare his creepy ass off, but I’d been so relieved when he was gone.

It was really ridiculous to have to close and lock all my doors in my own damn apartment to get some privacy. Or to just be sitting on the couch, and know someone is taking pictures of you without asking.

But I’d honestly never given Gene a single thought again after he was gone. Within three days, I had a new babysitter. One who was less creepy, if a lot more anal and annoying about cleanliness considering it wasn’thishome, technically. So Gene’s memory just… disappeared.

He definitely never called meMy doveor anything like that when he’d been with me, or I would have known in an instant that it was him when the comments and letters started.

One thing did make sense, though.

The pink roses.

My father had sent me a bouquet when Gene had been staying with me. And I guess he assumed that was my thing.

Had I maybe given that situation two moments of thought, I would have come to that conclusion.

It was too late now.

I tried to move my head to get a better look around. The movement made my cheek grate against a dirty floor. Undoing all that work at the spa. Not that my facial was really a big concern right now. Not with the way my shoulders were aching.

Thanks to Julian, I knew that sensation in a heartbeat.

Even before I realized my wrists were bound.

I hated Gene at that moment for taking something that had become kind of sacred to me and turning it into something ugly.

Wherever I was, it was quiet, filthy, and freezing.

My robe had split down the chest, the sash holding on for dear life, but losing the battle. One whole leg was now exposed, and I was suddenly thankful for the fact that I’d chosen actual full-cheek panties instead of my usual thong.

Though I was without a bra, and if I shifted too much, my tits were going to be on display, with no way for me to cover them up again.

I forced myself to take slow, deep breaths, trying to tamp down the anxiety that was slithering up my chest and closing around my throat, constricting tighter by the second.

It was going to be okay.

I was someone who would be missed.

Especially because the girls would be waiting for me.

And Julian would be waiting for me to be done.

Julian.

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