Carnage by Sarah Bailey

Forty Four

Scarlett

Prescott didn’t answer me, merely gave me a wink and got out of the car. Francis was busy tucking himself away next to me. I looked at him, wondering if I should say something. He unbuckled our seatbelts and leant over me to open my door.

“Get out, Scarlett.”

His tone brokered absolutely no arguments. I slid out and shivered at the cool air, wrapping my arms around my chest. Francis got out behind me and closed the door. There was another car sitting in front of ours. I frowned but didn’t get a chance to ask what was happening. Francis wrapped an arm around me and led me around the vehicle. We met Prescott by the door to a big warehouse. He tugged me away from Francis and waved him inside.

“Two mins,” he said when Francis gave him a look.

Francis rolled his eyes and shoved open the door. He disappeared into the building, leaving me alone with the man I’d become enamoured with, despite the fact he was dangerous and I shouldn’t trust him. Prescott dug his hands in my hair and pulled me closer. He leant down, rubbing his nose against mine.

“Time for your reward, little lamb.”

I didn’t have a chance to object to the fact he was kissing me right after I’d had Francis’ cum in my mouth. His lips were on mine, stealing my breath and making me dizzy. He parted my lips with his tongue, tasting me with unrestrained passion. I gripped his clothes to steady myself, allowing him to take me away on a sea of bliss.

When he released my mouth, he smiled and his eyes softened a fraction. My heart lurched and I wasn’t sure I could hold myself up. I was glad he still had a grip on me.

“Where are we, Pres?”

“You’ll see.”

“I thought we were going back to Fortuity.”

“We will, sweetness.”

He dropped his hands from my hair and took my hand. I was dragged through the door to the warehouse the next moment. It was dark, dank and cold. I shivered, feeling incredibly uneasy about why they’d brought me here. In front of us, a light glowed and three figures stood bathed in it. My fingers tightened in Prescott’s as he drew me over to the men waiting for us.

“Hello, Scar,” West said, drawing my attention to the fact it was him, Drake and Francis.

I glanced up at Prescott as we came to a standstill, but his expression was entirely blank.

“What’s going on?” I asked, turning my attention back to West.

His smile was sinister. I swallowed, my palms turning sweaty despite the cold air enveloping us in the dark warehouse.

“Well, you asked our boy here for protection.” West indicated Prescott with his hand. “You didn’t think it wouldn’t come at a price, did you?”

I’d been fully prepared for them to want something from me in exchange, but this situation made me suspicious and wary at the same time.

“I did.”

“And is it right you told him you’d do anything to prove you’re worthy of our trust?”

“Yes.”

It was then I realised the three of them were standing in front of something. This couldn’t be good. Not at all. They wouldn’t bring me all the way out to a warehouse for something normal and nice. My hand shook in Prescott’s, my fear bleeding through even though I was trying not to show it.

West cocked his head to the side.

“Well, Scar, it’s your lucky day. We’re happy to protect you… on one condition.”

Prescott let go of my hand and pushed me closer to West, Francis and Drake.

“W-w-what’s that?”

I couldn’t help the way my voice shook on the words.

“We need you to do something for us.”

West stepped towards me, took my chin between his fingers and stroked my jaw. The gesture was entirely at odds with the manic look in his eyes. With his other hand, he slid something from his pocket and licked his lip.

“Put your hand out.”

I did as he asked. He placed something hard and cold into it before curling my fingers around the handle of whatever it was.

“You’ll need this.”

Then he dropped his hand from my face and stepped away from me. I hadn’t noticed Francis and Drake had moved out of the way too. It took a moment for me to register what was in front of me. A man with a hood on his head was sat on a chair. His hands were behind his back and his legs tied to the chair. My eyes fell down to the object in my hand. It was a knife. And not just any knife. It was West’s knife. The one I’d kissed and licked yesterday. Of all the scenarios I imagined playing out, this wasn’t even on my radar. My mind screamed in protest of what it thought they were asking for. They couldn’t be serious. They weren’t asking me to do… that… were they?

“Why… why is he tied up?”

“I think that’s rather obvious, Scar, don’t you?”

My eyes went to West. He was smiling at me, his amber eyes glinting in the low light. They were full of violence and glee.

“What do you want me to do with this?” I asked even though it was fucking clear.

West snorted, whilst the others remained silent as statues, waiting for things to kick up a notch.

“We want you to kill him.”

I stared hard at West before a wild, choking laugh erupted from my lips. I took a step back, putting a hand to my chest.

“You… you can’t… you can’t be serious. This is some kind of joke, right?”

West shook his head very slowly.

“No joke, Scar. You want to prove yourself to us. Prove we can trust you. This is the price.” He waved at the man. “His life in exchange for our protection.”

I took another step back, but I was prevented from going anywhere by Prescott, who pushed me towards West and the man in the chair. I daren’t look back at him, worried what the hell I’d see in his expression.

Sucking in a breath, I clutched the knife tighter in my hand. The one they expected me to use.

“Why would you make me do this? What the hell is wrong with you?”

West didn’t respond, merely kept smiling at me as if this was perfectly normal. Nothing about this situation was fucking normal. Who asks someone to kill another person in exchange for protection? Then again, what else did I expect coming from the men with a reputation such as theirs? They hadn’t been branded the Four Horsemen for nothing. I’d been warned so many times they were ruthless and fucking with them would end up in a death sentence. Only I hadn’t realised it wouldn’t be my own life at stake here.

“What did he even do?” I pointed at the man. “Who is he?”

West dragged his finger across his bottom lip.

“Oh well, that’s the best part now, isn’t it, boys?”

I looked around at the other three, but they were all expressionless. As if this didn’t bother them at all. Maybe killing people was commonplace to them, but it wasn’t for me.

“Why?”

“I warned you about allowing another man to touch you, Scar. I told you there would be consequences you wouldn’t like.” He stepped closer to the man. “Consider this your punishment… and his.”

I swallowed as the cogs turned in my head and spat out an explanation. One that made me absolutely sick to my stomach.

“Who is it?”

I needed to hear the damn name with my own ears. West strode towards me, took my arm and forced it up to my face. My eyes went to the bruises shaped like finger marks. He stared at them for a long moment before meeting my eyes over the top of my arm.

“The man who had the audacity to put hands on you.”

“M-M-Mason… that’s Mason?”

West’s grin only confirmed it. I shook my head before I ripped my arm from his, backing away as my hand went to my mouth.

Mason. They wanted me to kill Mason for them. What the actual fuck was wrong with the four of them? This was insane. Absolutely fucking insane.

“No,” I moaned. “No… you can’t make me do that.”

I backed up right into Prescott, who steadied me with both hands on my shoulders. My head snapped up to his, finding none of the softness in his eyes I’d experienced after he’d kissed me. There was a hard edge to his expression. I dropped my hand from my mouth and turned around.

“Pres, please tell me this isn’t real.”

He didn’t answer me.

“You can’t make me do this. You can’t make me kill him.”

The lack of reaction from him broke something inside me. Tears burnt in the corners of my eyes. They couldn’t make me kill Mason. They just couldn’t.

“Prescott, please.”

“As West said, this is the price, Scarlett. Either pay it or you’ll never see any of us again.”

I froze despite the way my heart was pounding in my ears. Not only could I not afford to never see any of them again, the thought of being separated from Prescott felt like I’d taken the knife in my hand and stabbed it into my own chest. I cared about him, even though he was being cold and unfeeling right now. Even though he was showing me his worst side.

“You really want me to kill someone for you? To kill Mason? My only friend?”

He gave me a sharp nod, his eyes darkening with what could only be described as irritation. My hands dropped to my sides. I wasn’t going to get any fucking sympathy from Prescott. And I didn’t imagine I’d get any from Drake and Francis either. They’d remained silent this entire time. To think, Francis and Prescott knew they were bringing me here. They fucking knew what they were about to ask me to do and they’d not given a shit about it. Instead, they’d asked me for a fucking sexual favour like I was their toy to use and abuse. I shouldn’t be surprised, but I was.

I didn’t stop the tear from falling out of my eye as I stared up at Prescott, my heart fucking breaking with its path down my cheek.

“I hate you,” I whispered, then I turned away, unwilling to see his reaction.

Making my way over to the man in the chair… to Mason, I let the tears fall. I looked down at the man I’d known for ten years of my life. The one who’d picked me up when I was broken. Who’d nursed my battered and bruised body from the day I’d woken up from my coma at sixteen years old. No matter how much I hated him for hurting me yesterday, the thought of killing him forced a wave of pain to rush through me.

West came up behind me and stood at my back. I could feel his breath against my ear.

“Don’t worry, he can’t hear you nor can he speak. We didn’t think you’d want to hear his screams.”

I choked out a sob. I had no choice but to go through with this no matter how much it hurt me. No matter how much I was dying on the inside. If I was ever going to fulfil my parent’s desires and be free of them, I had to prove myself to the Horsemen. I had to show them they could trust me.

West’s hand slid along my arm and he gripped my hand holding the knife. He surrounded me with his body, sheltering me from everything else. It shouldn’t fill me with comfort, but it did. It was the only shred of fucking sanity I had left to hold on to. He forced me closer to Mason. Then he brought our joined hands up and pointed them at Mason’s chest.

“You hit him here if you want a quick, clean death. Right between these two ribs, you stab him right in the heart,” West murmured in my ear. “But if you want to make him pay, if you want to hurt him like he hurt you, then you hit wherever you can.”

“West,” I whimpered, more tears spilling down my face. “I can’t do this.”

He pressed a kiss to my neck.

“Shh, you can, Scar. I know you can. You’re strong as fuck, you know that?” He ran his tongue along my skin. “Be a good girl for us. Show us the woman I know you are inside. Show me you’re one of us.”

My heart burnt in my chest. A flood of images crossed my mind, but they were too hazy for me to make out properly. The only thing I could focus on was the words ringing in my ears.

“You’re one of us, Scar. Always and forever.”

I raised my hand with the knife in it. The one West was still holding on to.

“Kill him.”

And with that, I brought my hand down, sealing my fate once and for all.