Page 54 of Torment

Suddenly, he got jerked up by two guys, each holding one of his arms.

Brent glanced from Hunter to Scarlet. “I see you told him about me. That’s good. Now everyone here knows who you really belong to.”

“She does not belong to you, you sick motherfucker!” Hunter struggled against the hold the two guys had on his arms, but it was no use, they had him locked in place.

With slow, intimidating steps Brent walked closer to Scarlet, and all Hunter could think about was stopping him. Again he tried to break free, but his arms got twisted upward, his shoulders feeling like they were being torn off his body. Then Hunter felt the cold blade of his own knife pressing into the skin of his throat, the sharp threat stilling him, forcing him to watch as Brent approached Scarlet like a slithering snake.

“Do you have any idea how I’ve searched for you, Little Red? I have used every resource at my disposal to find you.” Brent glanced at Colton. “But apparently, you’ve had some help over the years.” And then his snake eyes settled on her again. “But alas, here we are. Back together, thanks to our mutual friend here.”

Hunter knew it. He fucking knew it. Every instinct inside him had warned him about this Colton Riggs fucker. There was just something about him that rubbed Hunter the wrong way. A certain kind of determination mixed with a kind of melancholy that could only be a recipe for disaster—and apparently, betrayal.

The second Brent stopped in front of Scarlet, she took everyone by surprise—including Hunter—by spitting right in Brent’s face. On the inside, Hunter was pulling out the pom-poms and cheering her on. But he knew a guy like Brent wouldn’t let an act of disrespect like that just slide without punishment.

The moment Brent lifted his arm, Hunter saw nothing but blinding fucking red, his vision clouded with black rage as the bastard struck Scarlet across the cheek.

Hunter roared, but Scarlet didn’t make a sound. Not a fucking sound. But the way she glared at Brent, her iced-blue, cold hard stare pinned on the motherfucker in front of her, Hunter knew she was trying to fight back.

She was fighting. Scarlet was fighting.

That’s my girl.

Brent removed a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the side of his face. “I won’t tolerate that kind of disrespect, Little Red. It would be best if you refrain from such disrespectful acts.”

Scarlet tilted her head to the side, her cheek red from the blow. After staring at him, unblinking, for a few painfully silent seconds, she spat at him again.

“Fuck you, Brent. Fuck you and that tiny shriveled up dick of yours.”

Oh dear God, no. Scarlet, what the hell are you doing?

Again Brent wiped the spit off his face. He seemed calm—too calm.

After placing his handkerchief back into his pocket, he smiled—and then punched her in the gut.

The sound that came out of her mouth was bone numbingly horrific. It was like he’d shattered her insides with one blow, and Hunter felt his own insides burn, his soul screaming, raging with a need to tear Brent’s fucking head off.

Hunter started tugging and pulling, fighting to get free. All he could see was Brent’s blood coating his hands as he beat the motherfucker to death. Hunter could already taste the blood he would spill—if he could only fucking get loose.

Another man came to help the two guys who had a hold on Hunter’s arms. There was no way Hunter would have been able to pull free. Never had Hunter’s mind been filled with so many murderous thoughts of killing and clawing his way to her, to make sure Brent didn’t lay another filthy hand on her. But all those thoughts were fucking useless if he couldn’t get free.

Scarlet’s head was hanging down as she coughed, gagging while Colton continued to hold her.

Brent cocked his head to the side. “It seems like you grew a backbone during the seven years we were apart. I can’t remember you having this fight in you back then. If you did,” he grasped her by the chin and pulled her face up to him, “I would have enjoyed breaking you so much more.”

Scarlet pinched her eyes closed, and Hunter knew she was losing it. She was losing her fight, her strength. Hunter had to do something.

“You really are one twisted son of a bitch, aren’t you?” Hunter sneered.

Brent turned toward him. “Ah, the infamous Hunter Keaton. The private investigator I hired who ended up stabbing me in the back.”

“Once I figured out what a cock sucker you really are, stabbing you in the back is the least painful of all the things I want to fucking do to you.”

Brent grinned. “Did you love her, Mr. Keaton?”

Hunter glanced at Scarlet, and Brent noticed.

“Oh, I’m not talking about Blanchette here. I’m talking about Willow, the sister you fucked first.”

Hunter narrowed his eyes as he struggled to get a grip on his anger. His heart was no longer beating, it was fucking pounding inside his chest, his blood nothing but melted pools of lava pumping through his body.

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