Page 35 of Torment

“I was there the day Willow died.”

And then like the fucking big bang, it all came together. “You’re the one who saw it happen? The one my dad talked about yesterday?”

“Yup.” He poured some more whiskey in his glass, filling it to the brim, before looking back at her. “I’m the guy who was supposed to keep an eye on you, yet I never figured out what that scumbag was doing to you.”

Holy shit.

“Are you serious?” Again there was that feeling of having a rope tied around her neck, like she was hanging ten feet from the ground.

Colton nodded. “I am.”

“How long?”

“A few years. But after Willow died, I asked your dad to take me off the job, but he wouldn’t.”

This time, Scarlet reached for the bottle and filled her glass to the brim as well, a few drops spilling down the side. “How long after that?”

“Two more years. I watched you for two more years before I finally convinced your father that I was ready for the big ops.”

Scarlet placed her face in her palms. “Holy shit, Colton.” She looked back up at him. “That’s why you’ve been acting the way you have around me?”

“Yeah. It’s quite ironic that there are three men under one roof carrying a shit load of regret and guilt when it comes to you.”

“Guilt? Why would you feel guilt? Or anything toward me for that matter?”

He placed his finger in his whiskey and twirled it around in the auburn liquid. “Is it not obvious?”

“Not to me.”

“If I had done my job right, if I had kept a close eye on you like I was supposed to, I would have figured out what was happening. I would have been able to stop it.”

Fuck me.

The poor bastard. “It’s not your fault.”

“I know that. But I could have stopped it from going on for so long.”

Without hesitating, Scarlet reached out and placed her hand over his. “Listen. I hardly know you, and you hardly know me. Okay, well, maybe you know me. But the point is, no one is to blame here except Brent. What happened, happened.”

Colton glanced at her hand. “I get it. But still, I wish I could have done more.”

Scarlet removed her hand from his and leaned back. “Something tells me that’s not all there is to your story, is it?” It was written all over his face that this guilt he was supposedly feeling wasn’t all directed at her. She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Tell me.”

Colton roughed his hand through his short, dark brown hair, but didn’t answer.

She slanted her head to the side. “Does she have a name?” Guilt and regret always had a name. Katherine. Brent. Willow.

Scarlet studied him closely, then glanced down at his arm. “Hope. Her name is Hope…isn’t it?”

He followed her gaze and looked down at his arm. “You’re very observant.”

She smiled smugly. “Being on the run for seven years, one has to be.”

“I suppose.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes, just sipping away on their whiskey. Even after all they just spoke about, him telling her that he had been watching and following her for years—which for some reason didn’t weird her out at all—the air around them didn’t feel heavy in the slightest. Funny enough, Scarlet felt a little at ease—just a little.

“Who is she to you?” Scarlet stared at the tattoo on his arm.

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