His Regret by Bella J.

Chapter Twenty-Two

“I know you’re here, Little Red.”

Blanchette’s heart hammered against her ribs, the air in her lungs coming out in small, shallow breaths.

“Are you hiding from me, Little Red? Don’t tell me you’re scared of the big bad wolf.”

His voice was dark, filled with malice and evil intent. It was like a demonic whisper, and it sliced straight through to her soul.

“We had so much fun the other day. And the big bad wolf wants to play again.”

Oh God.

Bile pushed up her throat as she pinched her eyes closed, trying to get rid of the memory. The pain. The hurt. The torment.

“I know you’re here. I can smell you. Your fear. It’s making me want to play even more.”

Tremors possessed her body as she pushed her back harder against the wall she was hiding behind. The bone numbing fear now had complete control over her, and all she could do was pray to God that he didn’t find her.

“Oh, Little Red? We’re family, remember? Come out and show me how much you love me.”

She opened her eyes and frantically looked around, trying to find any way out of the barn. But there was no way. She was trapped, like a lamb with nowhere to go but the slaughterhouse. Tears slipped down her cheek and she bit down on her trembling lip so hard that she tasted blood. The bile that was stuck in her throat started to push up violently and she had the urge to vomit. Her stomach felt like it had been turned inside out, her intestines squeezed with barbed wire.

She couldn’t go through it again. Not again. There was no way she would survive it.

“I told you I would find you.”

Strong, hard hands grabbed her shoulders and it was like her heart exploded into millions of tiny little splinters, piercing through every part of her skin.

“Leave me alone. Please. Don’t touch me!” she screamed at the top of her lungs, but it was no use. They were too far away from the house. No one would hear her. No one would rescue her.

He pushed her hard against the wall, the last bit of air in her lungs escaping her with a huff. With dark, wicked eyes he stared at her, his gaze slithering all over her face.

“My, my, Little Red. What big eyes you have.”

“Please, Brent. Don’s do this. Not again.”

“Shhh.” A cold finger traced down the side of her face, sending violent shivers down her spine. With a hard, painful jerk he turned her around and pulled her back flush against his chest.

A slimy, vile tongue glided down the side of her ear. “And what beautiful ears you have.”

She couldn’t take it anymore. If someone offered her death as the only way to get away from him, she would take it in a heartbeat.

“Stop. Please” she whispered as tears softly started to move down her cheeks.

“What’s the matter, Little Red? This was your favorite story as a child, remember? Granny used to read it to you every night, how the wolf tricked Little Red Riding Hood, and then ate both her and Grandma.”

His hand brushed down the side of her arm, burning her skin, causing her to gag as he moved lower and lower.

“You can’t deny it. You enjoy it just as much as I do.” His hand slipped between her legs, and her spine turned to ice, her body shaking, her soul sobbing with so much pain.

“Brent, please…”

“Don’t you remember how good it felt, how right it felt the first time, when I made you mine? I love you, Little Red. And you love me.”

“No! No, I don’t. You’re sick!” She kept on struggling, tugging, trying to get away. But it was no use. He was too strong. All she could do was to scream again, as loud as she could, hoping that maybe, just maybe, someone might hear her. “Help me! Please!”

Brent turned her around and slammed her hard against the wall while pressing his hand over her mouth.

“My, my, Little Red. What a big mouth you have.”

And then he slapped her right across the face. But she was too damn scared to feel anything, so she started to fight back, slamming her fists against any part of his body she could manage.

She kicked. She screamed. She cried. Yet his hands were all over her, all at once. She thrashed and punched and scratched—anything to get free.

“Stop! Leave me alone! Don’t touch me! Stop!”

“Scarlet?”

“Please! You’re hurting me…”

“Scarlet, wake up.”

Hard hands jerked her shoulders and she threw a punch, trying to get away.

“Jesus fucking Christ. Goddammit. Scarlet, wake the fuck up!”

Scarlet opened her eyes, her heart pounding against her ribs like a jackhammer. Sweat and tears ran down her face, fear pulsing like a disease through her veins while her lungs burned for air.

When she looked up, Hunter was on top of her, straddling her while pinning her hands to the mattress.

“What the fuck, Scar?”

“Get off me!” she yelled, bucking and thrashing beneath him. She couldn’t breathe. She needed air.

“Not until you calm the fuck down.”

“Get off me, Hunter! Please. I can’t breathe.”

He loosened his hold on her hands and got off. Scarlet turned on her side and hung off the side of the bed when she started to vomit. Violent jerks wracked through her body, her stomach and heart both fighting for a way up her throat. It was like her body tried to get rid of the pain, the fear, the image of him, trying to expel the evil mark he left on her soul.

“Scarlet, are you okay?”

“I can’t go back to him.” She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “I can’t go back to him. I just can’t.” She cried, her tears falling on the laminated floor, the wood darkening with her sorrow.

“Scarlet.” He crouched down in front of her and she looked up at him. The thought of him finding her, touching her, being that scared again was just too much for her to handle.

“Please don’t let him find me, Hunter” she whispered, tasting the saltiness of her tears. “Please.”

With both his hands Hunter wiped her hair out of her face and clutched her head behind her ears. “I promise you that I will not let him get near you, okay? I will keep you safe.”

She believed him. The way his eyes darkened, determination swirling in his green irises, she knew. Somehow she knew he would keep her safe. Whether it was her desperation that made her want to believe Hunter’s promise, or just plain wishful thinking, she didn’t care. All she cared about was that for the first time in years she had hope because of a promise Hunter had made.

The relief that flowed through her was so intense that she lunged forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tight as she continued to sob into his neck. Halfway off the bed, she felt his arms wrap around her and pull her onto his lap.

She had no idea how long they remained there, how long he held her in his arms, how long she cried. But for the first time in years she allowed herself to embrace the pain, and to purge. Being held, being in his arms helped. It calmed her. It tamed the panic, and for the second time since she had met him, he managed to help her get a grip over her fear.

“You okay there?” he whispered while he stroked his fingers through her hair.

“Yeah.” She sniffed and sat up, feeling the way her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. This was what she was afraid of the whole time. Showing her vulnerable side. Showing Hunter how scared and weak she really was. “I’m fine.”

She pushed herself off the floor and grabbed her robe to cover up. That was when she realized that she had been naked the entire time she was glued to Hunter’s lap. Nice.

Hunter watched her with worried eyes. “Nightmare?”

“Yeah.”

He got off the ground, and she noticed he cringed while clutching his rib.

“What happened to you?”

“Oh, it’s nothing.”

She noticed a little blood on his nose and rushed toward him. “Hunter, your nose is bleeding.”

He wiped at it with his arm. “Oh, that was you.” He grinned.

“Me?”

“Yeah. You pack a mean punch, just like you said.”

Oh no.“I hit you?”

“You hit someone. But I’m pretty sure it wasn’t my face you saw when you threw that punch.”

He looked at her pointedly, like he was expecting an explanation—a discussion about what happened, about what or who she saw in her dreams. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t go there. Not now. Maybe not ever.

Placing her hand on her forehead, she sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“Scar—”

“I need a drink.” Her head was pounding, her body was aching, and she needed to take the edge off. She brushed past him and darted out of the room, her heart still racing inside her chest. Somehow she knew that if she had to stay in that room with him any longer, she would spill every last detail of her hell. And she really didn’t want to.

“Scarlet, wait up.”

“Drop it, Ace.”

“I don’t know if you noticed, but you freaked the fuck out there. You were scared shitless of whatever the fuck you dreamt about.”

“No shit.” She spun around and he almost walked right into her. “I was there, remember?”

“Tell me.”

“No.”

“How the fuck can you expect me to keep you safe when I don’t even know what I’m protecting you from?”

Scarlet opened the fridge and grabbed the first alcoholic beverage she could get her hands on. The tequila.

After gulping down a fair amount of alcohol, she slammed the bottle on the counter and glared at him standing only a few feet from her. “Then don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t protect me. Go. Leave. I can take care of myself.”

Not in the mood for any more of his “you need me” bullshit, she turned around, grabbed the tequila, and headed up the stairs back to the room. She needed space. She needed air. She needed a new fucking life. No matter how hard she tried, where she ran to, it always followed her—the pain, the torment, the reality of her past being so fucked up that she would never be able to escape it.

For hours she locked herself in the room, sitting on the deck, drinking the tequila, and just staring into space. She hardly noticed the ocean, the sun, the soft breeze on her skin. All she could think about, all she felt, was the entire fucked-up-ness that was her life.

And now there was Hunter, who had somehow managed to make her feel something again. She didn’t know what that something was, but it felt foreign to her, something she didn’t recognize. And she wasn’t sure whether she wanted to feel like that when it came to him. It felt way too reckless, even for her. Putting her trust in someone else, depending on someone else, only opened up doors for disappointment and more heartache. And that she didn’t want. There wasn’t anything left inside her to break. Nothing about her was whole anymore, which was why she couldn’t risk it. If she did, and it backfired, the only thing left to destroy was her fight to survive, and then there would be nothing left.

There was a soft knock on the door.

“Go away.” She got up from the deck and walked in to the bedroom.

“Scarlet, you can’t stay in that room forever, you know.”

“Watch me.”

“Would you please just stop this stubborn bullshit attitude of yours and let me in?”

Staring at the door, she whispered, “I think I already have.”

“Please just open the goddamn door.”

She looked down at the spot where he held her that morning. The spot where he managed to yet again silence her demons. He was right the night before. This was a dangerous game she was playing with him. The only problem was she didn’t know what the game was until now. Without her realizing it, the walls around her heart were slowly breaking down brick by brick. Ever since she met him, he had been so protective over her, wanting to help her for some reason. At first, she thought he was just full of shit. But now she found herself in a place where she wanted to believe him, where she wanted to know what it felt like to have someone who wanted to protect her, who thought she was worthy to protect. Was it so damn wrong to want something whole in her life, something untainted and beautiful? To let someone in and allow them to care for her?

“Scar, please. Open the door.”

She closed her eyes, trying not to think about how it felt to have his arms around her. It made her feel safe, it made her feel warmer than she had in years. Maybe that was why she allowed herself to break in his arms earlier. It wasn’t the nightmare, or the memories. It was because of how she felt in his arms. It was the fact that for years she yearned to feel the warmth of someone who cared for her, and that morning she felt that…and it shattered her, feeling what she had been missing for so long. But it was reckless of her to allow herself to feel anything. There was a part of her that believed the promise he made earlier, to keep her safe, but she wasn’t confident enough in herself to trust that part of her. To trust the part of her that really wanted to stay with him, to be protected by him.

No.

No. She couldn’t trust it. There was too much at stake. Like her heart—her life. She had spent too much time, cried too many tears in order to harden herself against ever getting hurt again. There was no way she could allow anyone to break down the walls she had built, to tear down her defenses.

With a deep breath, she steeled herself against the feelings wreaking havoc inside her.

God, there were just too many voices inside her head—voices that told her she needed to let her guard down and to let him in, and voices that shouted at her to stop being naïve and to not trust him. She couldn’t let anyone in. That would be stupid and reckless. Besides, Hunter had made it pretty clear that what happened between them last night would not happen again. And to be honest, it sounded like they were both just too fucked up to mean anything to each other. Two broken people couldn’t make a whole. They would only destroy each other more.

Catching sight of the bags of clothing she’d bought the day before, she knew exactly what she needed to do to get some clear perspective. And she was going to do it. Tonight.