Page 12 of Bound By Threads
“Nothing to say?” he presses, his dark gaze fixed on me.
I shake my head, hyperaware that I need to offer him something, or he will never leave me alone. The ticket in my pocket feels like it’s burning against my leg, a ticking time bomb that, if I miss it, I’ll never escape.
“Are you already tormenting your future bride?” a chilling voice from my nightmares echoes as he approaches us. “Still not speaking?”
“Nope, but we have our methods of coaxing little birds to sing.” Elijah’s dad replies. My apparent future husband, my tormentor, a monster—the man who will ultimately be responsible for my death. “And believe me. I will make you sing, Scarlett. You’re ours now. Ours to control…” he runs his hand down the side of my face, “To manipulate…” his hand circles my throat, phantom bruises sting, and my breath stalls. “To break.”
My entire body breaks out in a cold sweat, pure terror coursing through my veins at the thought of being owned by this man. I swallow hard, my eyes frantically scanning for the exit, wondering if I can make my escape before they catch up with me.
“I know what you’re thinking,” James tilts my head to meet his gaze. His steely gray eyes scrutinize my every move as if he’s assessing the depths of my soul. “You want to run, but just know that no matter where you go, we will find you. You will never be able to escape me,mywife.”
My mouth falls open, a scream bubbling up inside me as every fiber of my being rebels against the idea of ever becoming his wife.
No man will ever own me.
“We’ve got to go,” the other voice that haunts me says, his green eyes boring into mine. “Don’t run too far, little bird. We do like a chase, and we aren’t gentle.”
“Do as you’re told, Scarlett. I’d rather not waste my time searching for you. Trust me, you won’t like the consequences,” James says.
Reluctantly, I nod, giving him the compliance he so desperately wants from me. He leans in closer, brushing his lips against the corner of my mouth, then leaves.
I don’t move,still gripped by fear, convinced that they are lurking outside, silently watching my every move.
I can’t take the chance that they will find out where I’m heading.
Running is pointless. They made it clear —no matter where I attempt to hide, they will track me down, and I refuse to endure that nightmare ever again.
In a rush, I return the items I was going to buy, my heart pounding as I hastily place them back on the shelves. I exit the store, and the only cashier working this late at night deliberately avoids making eye contact with me.
Everyone in this town is paralyzed by fear, too afraid to step in and help, not wanting to risk their own lives in the process.
I can’t remember the last time someone intervened to help me. It has always seemed easier for others to use me as their punching bag. Even my dad allowed mom to unleash her frustrations on me as long as it meant he was left alone.
My eyes burn with unshed tears, and the painful realization that I’ve never truly experienced love leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. For a moment, I feel as if I can’t breathe, as if everything is collapsing around me.
I never stood a chance in this world when my parents preferred the feeling of being high over providing for me. The money that was supposed to be spent on food would always conveniently go missing as the drugs turned up on the coffee table, and my stomach stopped making noises of complaints long ago.
The bus stationis to my right, but instead, I drift left, making my way to the only place where I have ever felt loved and cared for. Even if it was for only a few months when he stuck to his sobriety in an attempt to be better, it dragged him back in, just like Tracey always managed to do.
Running awayfrom all of this is no longer an option for me.
I would rather embrace death than spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder for the nightmares of my past to catch up with me.
Chapter8
Scarlett
‘Sleep-Ashley Singh’
The warm air wraps around me like a hug, luring me to try to fly — to experience what it’s like to be truly free.
I can’t remember the last time I felt the arms of someone around me or how touch can be gentle. All I know is how it can hurt, a weapon to punish me... to force my compliance — to silence my voice.
A bird squawks as it glides in front of me, the wind ruffling its feathers.
Would I feel the same? Feel as free and happy as it does?
Hot tears cascade down my cheeks, betrayal cutting into me like a twisting knife piercing my heart.
