Page 68 of Torment

It had been about an hour since Brent left, leaving Scarlet and Colton behind in the barn. They didn’t do much talking. Scarlet was still sitting on the table, her wrist still chained above her head. Colton was sitting on the ground with his back against the wall, tossing little pebbles at the stack of hay across from him.

He was hiding something, she could feel it. Other than being the douche who sold her out, there was something else he wasn’t telling her. But what?

The silence was killing her. All she could think about was a shit load ofwhat ifs. What if she had just allowed herself to feel for Hunter? What if she had accepted the fact that she might have fallen in love with him? What if she had stopped fighting him at every turn and just enjoyed feelingsomethingfor a change?

What if she had trusted Hunter’s gut instinct about Colton?

She glanced his way.

No. Even though Colton did betray her, she knew deep down he wasn’t a bad person. Just a good guy stuck in one fucked-up situation. God knew that if she was in his shoes and Willow was the one who’d been kidnapped, Scarlet would have done the exact same thing.

Scarlet had experienced enough fucked-up-ness to know no one had the right to be judge and jury. Everyone had their own cross to bear, their own demons to fight. Who was she to judge Colton’s actions? He did what he had to do. It was just too bad she had to be the one who got stabbed in the back.

Her nose started to itch, and she tried to rub it against her arm. It helped a little.

She hung her head back and glanced at the chains around her wrists. The blood had dried on her skin, and that too was starting to itch.

“Colton?” She looked down to him.

“Yeah?”

“What are you not telling me?”

Colton rubbed his palm down his face. “I can’t tell you now. Just…whatever you do, don’t give up. Not just yet.”

“I can’t promise that.”

“Just…try.”

For a few breaths longer they kept their eyes locked on each other. The way he looked at her spoke volumes. Earlier he said things weren’t as they seemed. Did he mean with her…or with Hunter?

Scarlet turned her wrists against the chains, trying to get rid of the itch on her wrists.

“Colton?”

“Yeah?”

“My wrists are real itchy. Do you think you could…”

Colton got up and sauntered over to her. He reached up. “Sure.”

Gently he scratched around the dried blood and the relief was fucking amazing.

While he continued to scratch her wrists, she looked up into his eyes as he stared down at her with sad, brown eyes.

“Did you really kill him?” she asked softly.

He lowered his arms, never taking his eyes off hers. “You tell me.”

There was something in the way he looked at her, like he was challenging her to think real fucking hard about that question, and about what the right answer should be.

Deep down there was something telling her that he wasn’t capable of doing that. Even though it seemed like he wanted to kill Hunter that day outside the mansion, he just didn’t seem like the cold-hearted killer type to her. Maybe…just maybe she needed to trust her gut—just one last time.

“Will he be able to help you?” she asked.

He gave a step back. “Brent? No. Rex? Maybe. But now I’m stuck here and they are on the goddamn porch, which doesn’t help me at all.”

And that was when it dawned on her.

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