Page 25 of Vermilion Desire

It comes back now, of all times, which is evidence of how stressed I am over Mr. Wolf and wanting to be on his good side again.

My throat tightens, allowing limited air to go into my lungs and muddling my mind with a turmoil raging in my blood. I have to get out of this stuffy room; the unrest roams around me with the intention of picking at my paranoia.

No, no, no. I’m good. I’m smart—I beat the other geniuses, and I got the spot in the program, I have to be strong, or I’m not going to see Mr. Wolf again. The program can’t take me away because I’m an adult now, but that doesn’t mean Mr. Wolf wouldn’t drop me back off at Cal’s house.

It would be so easy to have the papers nulled, and I would be back into the care of Cal—a step backward rather than going into a future with Mr. Wolf.

The itching becomes insistent, demanding I break my skin to get to the blood. No matter how hard I scratch my arm, relief escapes me, and a sense of panic punches me in the gut.

“Hey, hey, baby—”

I jerk away from the familiar warmth, it burns me, and it hurts the raw skin on my arm. Mr. Wolf stands there with his hands frozen in midair, eyes alarmed and roaming on my skin to check if I have harmed myself other than the pink lines from my nails on my arm.

“What’s wrong?” He steps forward, and I don’t make it obvious that I’m afraid to let him touch me.

Everything itches and it blisters, but what hurts more is the anxiety of being not loved by him again.

“No, no, no—” I shake my head. I can’t let that happen. Mr. Wolf is mine. I would kill for him. I can only survive on his love, and if that’s gone, I have no reason to stay here any longer.

My lungs deflate, air escaping from my mouth as Mr. Wolf throws his arms around me. The shaking in my body reduces to uneven shudders as his scent pushes down the unease of being abandoned into the depth of my stomach.

He soothes me, but it doesn’t work. Nothing works when I have paranoia giggling and flashing images of Mr. Wolf walking out of my life as if I had not meant anything to him.

I mean everything to him. I have to; he told me that I was his special girl—his little red and he is my big, bad wolf.

How dare Braxton Berkshire do this to us?

No, this isn’t anyone’s fault but my own. My curiosity and the hidden lust for chaos came out to be directed at Braxton, but it wouldn’t have been this bad if he hadn’t threatened Mr. Wolf and Cal.

Yes, this is his fault. I’m going to destroy him and make him beg for his life when I’m done with him. Not even his filthy riches or influential father can get him out of the hell that I’m going to personally open the gate to.

“Baby, breathe for me,” Mr. Wolf croons, “I’m here. Breathe, it’s okay.”

Tremors take over my hands as I cling to him. The loud thump of his heartbeat rests against my forehead as his bareness seems to trigger a sense of urgency to keep him near me. My nails dig into his back, as I chant nonsense inside my head and refuse to let go of him.

My balance shifts, legs thrown around his tapered waist and arms limply scrambling around his neck as he supports my ass with his thick arms. The paranoia drones in my head, crackling and bathing in the miserable side of me that desperately clings to the only source of comfort that can settle the restlessness in my heart.

Gently setting me on the bed, I brush my hair out of my face, but I refuse to let him go. My arms struggle to hold onto him while he makes a move to adjust his body. He lets me hang onto him for a while as he takes the blanket from under me and throws it over all parts of my body that aren’t locked around him.

“I’m not going anywhere, baby. Give me a moment.” His voice is right by my ear, but I could barely hear him through the erratic beats of my heart.

“N-no, no—don’t go!” I squeeze harder, burying my face into his neck.

“Not leaving, not leaving,” he coos, whispering my name into my ear. It does little to calm me down because Mr. Wolf is a seasoned detective; he can lie to criminals without blinking an eye.

I don’t want to a criminal in his eyes; I don’t want to be anything but his precious little red. He needs me just as much as I need him, and I won't forgive anyone who says otherwise.

None of this was supposed to happen. I planned this out with a lot of possibilities that this could go sideways, but I hadn’t planned on this stress eliciting the itch in my skin to feed my paranoia.

A violent shiver goes through my body, triggering a wave of shivers that rattle my bones. Mr. Wolf slides into the bed with me, holding me tightly to his chest and murmuring words that I can’t make sense of.

I think he’s talking about his day or he’s reciting a grocery list, I don’t know, and I don’t care. As long as his voice is whispering into my ears, I’m alright with this crippling dread stay for a while.

If it stays, Mr. Wolf will stay too.

I can scratch through my skin and be a bit crazy for all I care. I just need Mr. Wolf to stay with me until forever.

Selfish, selfish, selfish. That word repeats like a broken record in my head, echoing after the hollow breath of doubts and abandonment concerns.

---