Page 78 of Torment

From the corner of her eye she saw Rex take a seat at the other end of the table. He placed his elbows on the table and rubbed his chin with his fingers, his brows furrowed as he continued to watch them.

“I would willingly let myself be tied to these chains, just as long as it’s not by him,” Scarlet said to Rex, desperate not to have Brent touch her.

Rex leaned back in his chair, still rubbing his chin, studying her with so much intent it made her shift from one leg to the other.

“Miss Woods, he is your master. So he needs to do the binding.”

“He’s not my master. He’s nothing of mine,” she bit out through clenched teeth, glaring in Brent’s direction.

“Well, Mr. Wolfe, it seems you still have quite a lot of training to do with this one. Which reminds me, where is her collar?”

Brent grinned wickedly. “I like them wild and untamed. And as for the collar, she hasn’t behaved well enough to deserve one yet.”

“Andshedoesn’t plan to either,” Scarlet sneered. “You can shove that collar of yours up your ass.”

Brent gave a few slow steps across the sturdy table until he came within inches of her, his malicious eyes staring into hers. “Like I used to shove my cock upyourtight little ass?”

Two heartbeats. That was how long it took for Scarlet to lose her shit. At that moment, she was so enraged with the most intense kind of hate that she completely lost it, and punched him in the face. She didn’t even feel the pain resonating through her hand. All she felt was cold, hard rage, and she really,reallywanted to kill him in the cruelest way.

“I’m going to kill you, you fucking asshole!” She grabbed the side of his face, aiming for his ear, wanting to rip it off. But he moved, and she scratched the skin of his cheek, drawing blood.

But she wasn’t done.

All she saw was a thousand different shades of red. All she felt was his filthy hands on her skin, touching her in places he never had the right to. With every flashing memory, Scarlet punched and kicked and screamed. It was like the devil himself gave her the strength and the anger to inflict as much pain as humanly possible. She wanted to tear this son of a bitch apart.

Brent tried to cover his face as she kept pounding her fists into him. She didn’t care if the fuckers with the shot guns blasted her fucking brains out. All she cared about was punishing Brent, making him feel the pain she felt when he ruined her multiple times.

“I hate you!” she yelled. “I fucking hate you, you son of a bitch.”

Brent managed to grab her wrist when she tried to land another punch, and grabbed her around the throat before slamming her back first onto the table.

“You bitch!” he shouted, spitting on her face. But she didn’t care. Even though she had the breath knocked out of her, she wasn’t about to give up.

Brent tried to straddle her while taking hold of both her wrists, and she tried to kick him in the back. But someone grabbed her ankles and all she could do was thrash beneath Brent and continue to scream.

“Get off me!” She kept thrashing. “Get the fuck off me!”

Brent hit her hard across the face with the back of his hand, but she felt nothing. Whether it was the adrenaline, the hate, or a lethal mixture of both, Scarlet didn’t feel the pain. She heard the smack, but didn’t feel a thing. All she felt was the desperate need to fight, and to tear Brent apart.

Scarlet tried to lift her shoulders off the table, wanting to head butt the fucker in the face, but Brent grabbed ahold of her throat with both hands and started to squeeze. Instinctively, she reached for his hands, trying to loosen his grip, but he just kept tightening his hands around her throat until she started gasping and choking for air, the pressure causing her lungs to burn.

Within seconds the only thing she heard was the sound of her heart, as if it was beating inside her head, her ears ringing as the air in her lungs became less and less. The anger she felt just a few seconds ago was gone, replaced with the only thing that mattered—survival.

Scarlet tried to pull his hands away from her throat, clawing and scratching, desperate to take a breath, but he was too strong.

Just as Scarlet started to think he was finally going to do it, that he was finally going to kill her and end it all, there was a loud crack of a gunshot.

Brent immediately let go of her throat and looked up while Scarlet coughed, trying to suck in as much oxygen as possible. The air burned as it started to fill her lungs, and she leaned her head to the side, not sure if she wanted to cry or vomit.

Rex was standing next to the table, holding up a gun, his expression unreadable.

“Well, this is not exactly what I had in mind when I said I was in the mood for entertainment.”

Brent grabbed her wrists, spread her arms wide, and pinned them down. “Riggs, grab the chains.”

Scarlet tried to get free, but she was too weak—herbodywas too weak. Feeling exhausted and defeated, all she could do was watch as Colton hesitantly helped Brent tie the chains around one wrist before moving around the table and tying the other.

Her chest was still burning with every breath she took, Brent’s weight making it even harder to breathe normally.

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