Page 30 of Ruthless Keeper
“Do not question my authority.” Cain’s words are hauntingly quiet and threatening. He has no issue killing anyone who stands against him, including me and Max—his right and left hands. He really is a complete fucking psychopath.
“Your authority is beyond question. The point here is that killing Scarlett is not an option, unless you want to then have to exterminatehalf of the Nighthawks… right before an op that requires every single one of us.”
Cain works his jaw. Shakes his head. Points a finger at me. “Three months. Figure it out, or I’ll figure it out for you.”
Chapter Eleven
Scarlett
There’s nothing to do in the cell but stare at walls and think, so that’s what I spend the next hours doing. I take a brief pause from ruminating to rummage through the drawers in the nightstand, and the items I find make me promptly slam them shut. Lube, restraints, all sorts of frightening toys… things that tell me exactly what I’m in for with Monster. The hellscape that’ll make me wish I’d died back in that cell.
I try to find a happy space to disassociate to, some corner of my mind I can retreat to… but even the happiest memories I have are tainted with fear and paranoia. Gardening in my childhood home often ended with a lecture or outright beating from my father. Spending time with my mother only ever broke my heart. My brother and I bonded over our fear above all else. Even in college, my days were chained down with unshakable anxiety.
The realization that I don’t think I’ve ever been unabashedly happy is depressing beyond belief, and draws me down into a black hole. I have nothing to look back at with fondness, and nothing in my life to look forward to. I sink deeper and deeper into a state of depression… until anger takes over. I reach for the collar on my neck and start to jerk on it. It might be pretty, but really, it symbolizes that I mean nothing—that I’m only an extension of Monster with no measurable value.
With each fruitless tug, I grow more furious, until I start pulling on it so hard it begins to cut into my skin painfully. The diamonds are well-set, but there are sharp edges, yet the pain doesn’t deter me. Even the feeling of droplets of blood rolling down my neck doesn’t deter me. I keep going, eventually letting out a scream of angry desperation and pulling on the collar until it cuts off my breathing.
That’s when the door opens and Monster walks in. He freezes at the doorway, lips parting as he takes in the sigh of me.
“What are you doing?” he demands, swiftly crossing the room. I try to scramble away from him, but I have nowhere to go; he takes my wrists and forcibly removes my hands from my neck. I don’t even bother fighting him—I know I’ll only succeed in exhausting myself and satisfying him.
I blink back angry tears, staring at the floor. “Trying to get this fucking thing off me.”
A soft sigh escapes Monster. “It’s not coming off, Scarlett.”
“I’ll keep trying,” I say, still not looking at him. “I don’t give a shit if I slit my throat in the process. Either take this fucking thing off or I’ll get it off myself.”
Monster settles himself next to me on the bed and draws me in his arms. I try to protest, but with my hands gathered in one of his own and the sheer strength of his presence, I know I won’t be doing myself any favors. Fighting him is futile; it seems likeeverythingis futile.
“It’s not just athing,” Monster says. He readjusts his position, pulling me onto his lap and circling his arms around my waist, gently cuffing both my wrists in one hand and sliding his free hand up my body. He pulls at the necklace, presumably to get a closer look at thedamage I did, and sighs. “Flower, please don’t make me take away your ability to freely move your hands. I don’t want to do that.”
“Don’t you?” I ask. “It seems like you want to strip away everything I am.”
“No, Flower. I want to become a part of you, just like you’re a part of me.”
I hate it when he speaks in this calm, almost soothing voice. It makesmefeel like the crazy one instead of him—and I’mnot. Refusing to feed into his bullshit and resisting him at every turn is therational thing to do. He’s the insane one here.
“Scarlett, tell me you won’t pull on your collar again.”
“I won’t pull on my collar again,” I echo flatly.
He sighs again. “Say it like you mean it.”
“Idon’t.”
“Work with me here, Scarlett. It doesnothave to be like this. You’re mine and you aren’t going anywhere, but I don’t want to have to rush in here to save you from yourself at random hours of the day.”
“Then either kill me or let me go.”
A long, sad pause ensues. “I can’t do that. You know I can’t.”
I know that’s exactly where this leads.There’s no alternative ending to this story; one of us has to die, and Monster knows this. He’s trying to ignore the truth, and the only person that hurts is me.
“This collar… it should tell you how precious you are to me,” Monster says. “I want to hear you say it, Flower.”
“I was raised not to tell lies.”
“Then you should have no problems here, because it’s not a lie. ‘I’m a precious Flower.’ Say those words.”
