Page 58 of Torment

Sweat started to run down Scarlet’s back, her body trembling almost uncontrollably as she struggled against the sharp claws of fear that gripped her chest and pierced her soul. Her breathing came out in soft whimpers, tears burning their way down her cheeks

Brent dug his fingers into the skin of her waist and she groaned, pinching her eyes closed, despising the way it felt to have him touch her again.

“This is where it all began for you and me, Little Red.” He licked along her earlobe and Scarlet bit her teeth into her lower lip so hard she tasted blood.

“This is where you and I became one. Do you remember that? Do you remember that first time? They say the first time is the one you will always remember.” Good God, this son of a bitch was fucking insane. He sounded like the kind of person who should be rocking back and forth in a straitjacket on a wooden chair with only the padded walls to keep him company.

His breathing became more labored against her ear, and she felt him grow hard behind her, the most revolting sensation slicing up her spine. The urge to vomit and relieve herself at the same time was almost completely overwhelming as shivers moved through her body, the fear infecting every molecule of her being.

It was happening all over again. It was like she’d been transported back to the day he destroyed her. The barn even smelled the same, even though there weren’t any horses anymore. It still smelled like wood shavings, hay, and leather too. The distinct scent of horse manure, sweat, and dust still hung in the air. As a little girl, she used to love the smell—she loved the horses. But now the smell made her sick to her stomach.

“Do you remember, Little Red? Please say you remember it.” His cold, vile lips were now below her neck, kissing her skin like he was savoring the taste, his one hand palming her ass. It was making her fucking skin crawl.

Scarlet was too busy pushing down the bile in her throat, too busy forcing herself to breathe while enduring his revolting touch that she had no intention of answering his sick, twisted question.

Brent jerked her harder against him and gripped her waist tighter, digging his fingers painfully into her flesh.

“I asked you a question,” he hissed next to her ear. “And I expect you to fucking answer.”

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t speak. She couldn’t open her mouth since all she wanted to do was scream.

“Fucking answer me!” He grabbed her ponytail and jerked her head back. Scarlet yelped, tears streaming down her face as whimpers of despair rolled over her lips. On the inside, she was so fucking cold it was slicing through her bones. Yet the sweat kept trickling down her back.

“I…”

Oh God, she couldn’t do it. It felt like she was Blanchette all over again—the scared, helpless girl who didn’t have the backbone to fight back while he just took from her what he wanted.

This was the reason Scarlet had spent the last seven years hardening and strengthening herself by building a wall around her heart, keeping everyone out. If she could keep everyone out, no one had the power to hurt her—hurt her likehehad.

For years she mind-fucked herself into not feeling anything. If she couldn’t feel, she would never experience pain again. That was why she was so fucking scared of Hunter, because he was breaking down those walls. One by one, Hunter was cracking every brick she had laid in a bid to protect herself, to make sure no one ever broke the little bit of humanity she had left inside her. Hunter was making her feel again, which scared the shit out of her. So she fought it, she fought him, while she struggled to stay strong, to notfeel.

Yet all her strength, all the hardened layers ofI don’t give a fuckwere about to get cracked wide open in a matter of minutes by the psycho who turned her into the living corpse she was today. All those years of hiding, running, and trying to survive was all fornothing.Scarlet could have spared herself years of torment if she had just given up a long time ago, if she had just stayed and made peace with the fact that she would be in hell with this man until her last breath.

While she hung chained to the ceiling, feeling Brent’s vile touch on her skin, all she thought about was feeling Hunter’s arms around her, being with him again…loving him.

“Fight, Scar. Don’t you dare stop fighting.”

“Scarlet, do not let him get to you. Whatever you do, don’t stop fighting him.”

Scarlet could hear Hunter’s voice like he was standing right next to her, urging her not to give up, not to give this fucker what he wanted—her fear.It would be so damn easy to just give up, to crumple up into a little ball of pity and let the devil consume her whole. To fight would mean to stay strong, no matter what, to not let this fucker win.

She opened her eyes, removed her teeth from her lower lip, and took a deep breath, allowing the air to push her panic out of her chest.

And then she bit out, “Fuck. You.”

Brent stiffened behind her before slowly winding her hair around his fist tighter, and tighter. “You’re definitely not the Little Red I remember, are you?”

“The Little Red you remember died years ago. You killed her. Do you remember that? You remember the day you pushed her against that wall over there—” Scarlet nodded toward the wall in front of them “—and punched the wind out of her so that she didn’t have the strength to scream or fight back? When you pulled her by her hair, dragging her to that table in the corner, pushing her dress up and tearing her panties to shreds before you ripped her soul out of her?” Scarlet took a breath as the memories started to bombard her mind, threatening her resolve to fight. “Do you remember that,cousin?”

Brent abruptly let her go, sending her body swinging. The metal of the chains had already started to slice through her wrists, but she would have gladly broken both her hands if she thought it would help her escape.

Scarlet wanted to throw up so badly it felt like her stomach was lodged in her chest, the acid burning up her throat.

While he slowly walked away from her, Scarlet watched his every move. He was bigger than he was back then, and his hair used to be neatly cut—like a Marine. But today, with his long blond hair and the suit he was wearing, it was like he was someone entirely different. It was like she could see the evil radiate from him, something she wished she had been able to see back then. But she had loved her cousin all those years ago, she adored him…until he showed her what he was truly made of.

He stopped in front of the table in the corner—the table her cheek had been pressed against so many times—and slowly started to drag his fingers along the wooden top. There was this faraway, dreamy expression on his face, like he was reliving a good memory—for him.

“Oh, I remember.” He walked up and down in front of the table, never lifting his finger from the wood. “I remember every second. I remember what it felt like seeing you naked and exposed in front of me for the first time. I remember every sound, every whimper you made while I touched and admired your body.” He stopped and turned to her, his eyes nothing but pits of complete blackness.

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