Page 99 of Taming Scarlet

My father draped his jacket over my front, giving me more modesty as they both silently agreed to get me out of there.

I turned my face into Julian’s chest as we moved outside. Not wanting to see who might be watching. And not wanting them to see much of me either as Julian walked me over toward my father’s town car, then slid in the back with me.

My father didn’t immediately join us, so I figured he was likely speaking to the police.

“You’re okay, pet,” Julian assured me, pressing a kiss to my temple. “We’re going to get you home as soon as we can. We probably need to go to the precinct first, though. To give a statement. Can you do that?” he asked. “I’ll be right there in the next room.”

“Yeah,” I said, still feeling a little too numb to muster up any feeling in the words.

“It won’t be long, right, Marcus?” he asked, making me realize my father had joined us without my hearing.

“Half an hour, tops, they assured me.”

“Let’s get it over with then,” Julian said voice laced with concern.

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True to his word, my father started throwing a fit the second the questioning went over half an hour, insisting that any further information could be provided after I recovered.

“Do you want to come back with me?” my father asked as we climbed back in his car.

“I want to go home,” I said, letting Julian pull me up against his side, then reaching to drape my legs over his.

“Okay,” my father said, watching us, then looking at Julian.

“Your father fired me today,” Julian said, making my head shoot up.

“What?”

“He caught wind of our… inappropriate behavior. From Stephen,” Julian added.

Anger started to boil, but I found myself still a bit too detached to muster full emotion.

“It doesn’t matter. You’re staying with me,” I said, leaning back into him. “Forever,” I added quietly.

“Yeah, I am, pet,” Julian agreed, giving me a squeeze.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Julian

If Marcus hadn’t stopped me, I never would have stopped. Not until skull and brain matter were splattered everywhere. Until his blood was painting the walls.

I guess I had to be thankful to the man for being there, for reeling me in, for refocusing me.

Because more important than making Gene pay, was assuring Scarlet that she was safe.

She was a bit in shock afterward, lost in her head. Even when she spoke to the police, recounting everything about Gene from him moving in with her, to the stalking, and, finally, the kidnapping, her voice had been robotic.

I couldn’t begin to pretend to know what was going on in her head. What she’d felt when she’d been trapped with that psychopath. The kind of cunning she’d needed to convince him to trust her. Then the bravery it took to be able to stab the bastard four times before I took him from her.

I got a text as I was carrying Scarlet to her bathroom, running her a hot bath, and dropping some of her bomb things into the water before stripping her, and lowering her in.

There were scrapes and grit on her legs from being on the floor. And some bruises on her skin from where the bastard had grabbed her.

But she was unharmed.

It could have been so much worse.

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