Scarlett Red: A Billionaire SEAL Story, Part 2 (In the Shadows) (6 page)

As soon as I leave the bathroom, stepping into the dim, crowded hall full of girls and guys waiting in bathroom lines, a heavy, woozy feeling descends over me.

I stumble into someone and murmur an apology, pushing my hand against my head.

Sudden terror makes my pulse whoosh in my ears. My palms turn damp as I quickly shake my head to clear it.
No, no, no. Not again.
The sense of unrealism shifts the floor beneath my feet. This time feels much heavier, like it’s pulling me under. I blink rapidly, heading down the hall as fast as I can. I glance around, fear seizing me as I look for Hayes’s leering face among the crowd. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know it’s illogical. The bastard’s in prison for drug cooking and dealing, but I can’t stop my mind from being sucked into the past, back to the days where my innocence and freedom were stolen from me.

My skin crawls with the feel of Hayes’ warm breath rushing across my neck and I hear his voice in my head. “You just need to relax a little.” The strong, bitter taste of the powder he brushed across my lips suddenly fills my mouth all over again, making me want to gag.

He’s not here.
My stomach heaves anyway.
I have to get out of here. Get outside and breathe in fresh air.

My heart is hammering by the time I make my way past the dance floor and through the mass of people to the bar’s front door. I think I hear Cynthia calling me, but I need open space, not people pressing against me. I need to breathe, so I keep moving forward, each step feeling slower than the last.

The second I escape outside I run into someone. The man grips my arms. “Hey, are you all right?” But even though the deep resonance of his voice seems familiar, I can’t get the words to form.

His hold on me tightens as if urging me to answer. I open my mouth to say something, but I stumble and pitch forward. With my chin suddenly smashed against the guy’s chest, I glance up at the same time Bash looks down at me, a deep scowl on his face.

My world tilts as he effortlessly scoops me into his arms. Pressed against his chest, I clutch my purse to my side, managing a couple words, but his deep voice rumbles against my temple. “Shut up, T. Just be quiet for now. I need to get you out of here.”

Why does he sound mad?
I try to reason an answer, but my brain just doesn’t have the capacity. When he turns to walk off the porch, some guy behind us calls out, “Hey, is she okay?”

Bash pauses, his hands cinching around my body as he turns around to face him. “She’s fine.”

“Does she know you?” another guy says, echoed by a third man’s voice. “She’s half out of it, man.”

“She knows me,” Bash replies, tightness in his tone. I try to get the guys’ faces to focus, but they’re a blur to me. They sound young, like they’re in college. I mumble and wave my hand to let them know Bash wants to help, but apparently I don’t sound convincing, because the first guy chimes in again, his tone harder, threatening.

“I think you should just call her a cab.”

Bash takes a couple steps and sets me down in one of the wicker chairs, then faces the trio. “I’m not leaving here without her, so I suggest you go inside—”

He’s cut off by one of the guys throwing a punch. Bash dodges the fist, then straightens, his voice taking on a steely tone. “I’m going to warn you three just once not to mess with me—”

All three guys go after Bash at once, shoes scuffling and fists flying. When I try to stand and tell them to stop, I just end up slithering to my butt on the wooden floor, the wicker chair digging into my back.

After he slams his fist into one guy’s jaw, sending him stumbling back, Bash grabs another guy in a chokehold, then swings his foot back, catching his last attacker in the ankle with enough force to knock him to the ground.

Spitting out blood, hobbling forward, and shaking off grogginess, the revved up men go after Bash again. Everything else moves in a blur before Bash scoops me into his arms and steps over the three, who lay on the porch floor, groping various injured body parts.

As Bash walks down the wooden stairs, my vision starts to dim. After what I just witnessed, I’m pretty sure Bash will keep me safe. Relaxing against him, I stop fighting consciousness and let the encroaching darkness pull me completely under.

I
stir the spatula in the runny eggs waiting for them to cook, and just when they start to harden, I reach for the salt in the cabinet above the stove and let out a surprised gasp when a wiry arm appears over my shoulder, grabbing the salt for me. Setting the shaker down on the counter, Hayes bends down from his five-eleven height and says from behind me, “Smells good. Making me lunch?”

My stomach instantly begins to churn. Since Hayes hadn’t bothered me in months, I thought he had finally given up on his fascination with me. I still have nightmares about him grabbing me and fondling my boob. My first instinct is to run, but our apartment is tiny. I won’t get very far, so I hold my ground, refusing to let him intimidate me.

My aunt’s working, but I’m so thankful Walt will be home any moment. I swallow the fear that’s scratching my throat raw and force myself to sound tough to the forty-year-old bastard who’s standing too close to me. “The door between our apartments is closed for a reason, Hayes. Walt told you to stay away from me. I heard him.”

“Why can’t I wish you a Happy Birthday? Happened a couple days ago, right? Happy thirteenth, Talia,” he murmurs against my ear, his smarmy voice and sickly sweet cologne making my skin crawl. “You’re officially a teen now.” Hot breath bathes my bare shoulder next to my tank top’s strap. “Hmmm, a year older and even hotter.”

“You need to leave
now
,” I say through gritted teeth, my death grip on the spatula making my fingers numb. While I quake on the inside, I wrap my left hand around the frying pan’s handle, ready to use it if I need to.

Hayes moves with lightning speed, snaking an arm around my shoulder.

“Let me go!” I screech.

His forearm locks around my chest and he quickly presses a finger against my lips. “Shhhh!” I try to jerk away, to kick him in that bum ankle he favors, but I’m trapped and unable to move as he slides the thick pad across my mouth. Pushing past my lips, he groans like he’s enjoying the moisture in my mouth while rubbing his finger against my teeth. “You need to relax a little.”

As he grinds his bulging erection against my butt, the sharp, bitter taste on his finger freaks me out even more.
Shit, shit, shit!
He’s just rubbed some of the residue from the Ecstasy pills that he, Walt, and Jimmy package together in his apartment along my gums. Everything inside me goes cold when he continues with a sickening smugness, “It will help you learn to chill the fuck out just like it has Walt.”

My mouth begins to tingle and my heart jerks at a frantic pace. When a sinking feeling of inevitability grips me, self-preservation kicks in. I jam my elbow into his ribs and rush to the sink. While I frantically splash water in my mouth, my body heat spikes and my pulse races out of control. Maybe it’s not the drugs working just yet, maybe it’s my adrenaline making me feel like I’m going to pass out.

I jerk upright at the sound of Walt’s key scraping in the lock. Hayes moves close, “Say a word and I’ll arrange it so Walt gets caught with a buttload of drugs on him. Go ahead. Do it, little girl. Then I’ll have you
all
to myself,” he croons before he moves to the open doorway that connects our apartments.

The second Walt walks inside, I want so badly to scream out what Hayes has done despite the threat he just gave, but Hayes leans around the door connecting our apartments as if he’s just poking his head in and crooks a finger at Walt. “Come on, Walt. You’re here just in time. We’ve got business to discuss. More just came our way.”

Amelia must’ve heard Walt’s name because she comes flying in the kitchen, little arms raised for him to pick her up. “Daddy!”

Walt grins at Hayes and immediately sets the groceries down. Mumbling that I should put them away, he pats Amelia on the head, then walks around her, heading toward the open doorway.

When Amelia tries to follow him, he barks at her, “You’re not allowed in here, Amelia. Go watch TV.”

“But I want to be with you, Dadd—”

“Go!” he says forcefully. Amelia’s blonde hair shrouds her face, but I can tell how much her dad’s rejection hurts, so I walk over and swoop her up. “Want to play a board game with me?”

While Amelia pats my face with her little hands, babbling about which game we should play, Hayes looks at me one last time, then chuckles before he closes the door behind them. His smugness leaves me shaking.

Setting Amelia down, I tell her to go find a game, and after she runs off, I stare at the closed door, feeling more disconnected to reality by the minute.
Stupid drugs!
Before I completely lose myself to the buzz, I grab the edge of the counter and sag against it, hissing to the empty room, “Twisted motherfucker!” all the while wishing I’d bitten Hayes’ finger off while I had the chance.

A cold wetness yanks me out of my foggy dreamscape, and I blink my eyes open to see a dimly lit Bash leaning over me, pressing a damp cloth to my forehead.

“I don’t like it when you don’t listen to me,” he says in a terse tone.

I quickly jerk upright and back away. Fumbling with the nightstand light, I switch it on and exhale slowly, seriously wondering if I’m losing my mind. For a brief second, in the dark room, lit only by the bathroom light behind him, he’d sounded just like Sebastian.

All dominant and bossy.

Rubbing my arms against the sudden chill washing over me, I realize I’m only wearing my thin tank top and underwear, and my nipples are jutting against the coral-colored material in glaring, hi-beam abandon. I cross my arms over my chest and demand, “Where are my clothes?”

He gestures to the end of the bed where my sweater, bra and skirt lay in a heap. “You were burning up. I needed to cool you down.” His serious expression turns hard. “If the wet cloth didn’t do the trick, you were going in the shower next. What the hell did you take?”

“Are you serious? I didn’t
take
anything. I was drugged!” When he frowns, I rub my forehead trying to remember past the pounding headache. “I had one beer. Someone must’ve spiked it. It’s the only thing I had there.”

“You shouldn’t have gone by yourself.”

I tense at his stiff, angry tone. “I didn’t. I went with Cynthia. Oh, shit! How—” I pause and glance around the unfamiliar room to the night sky outside his window. “How long have I been out? If this happened to me…I hope she’s okay.”

“You’ve been out for a couple hours. Other than being hot, you were fine. Your breathing only spiked right before you woke up, otherwise I’d have taken you straight to the hospital.” He gestures to my phone laying on top of my purse on the nightstand. “Your phone kept buzzing with a few freaked out texts from someone named Cynthia. I finally responded as you, telling her you’re fine but had to leave.”

I rub my temples, thankful the headache seems to be dissipating. When the air-conditioned air hits my warm skin, chill bumps form. I start to rub my arms once more, then remember my revealing shirt and cross my arms back over my chest. “Can you pass me my clothes please?”

Bash grunts and stands to grab the pile. Handing them to me, he says, “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

“Not mine you haven’t,” I snap, feeling like an idiot. Whoever spiked my drink must’ve done it while I was dealing with the guy who grabbed me. Maybe he’d been working with a partner and distracted me while the other person drugged my drink. I should count myself lucky Bash came along when he did. I try to ignore him as I forgo my bra and quickly pull my sweater over my tank top. When I stand to step into my skirt, he doesn’t move away. Instead, once I’ve zipped it up, he steps closer.