“Where are they?”Clint roars, kicking the rickety chairhe called a loveseat hard enough tosend it flyinginto themetalwall.
“What are you l-looking for?” I wheeze, covering my head as wood splinters fly through the air.
He glares at me, waiting silently for me to amend my question.
“What are youlooking for, Sweetheart?” Thepetname tastes like acid on my tongue, burning with a wrongness I’ll remember the rest of my life. Assuming I survive this.No, don’t think like that. Youwillsurvive. Ellis will come.
Appeased, he resumes his pacing. “Our rings, Petal.How can I make you my bride without a ring?”
“You bought me a r-ring?”
“Bought?” He inclines his head. “No, no, no. I didn’t buy your ring. It’s a family heirloom. Passed down frommygreat grandmother.”
“Oh,” I chokeon the single syllable, wondering if his mother knows he took it for an unwilling bride.“Wow.”
“It’s beautiful. You’ll love it.” He flips the deskwith a hotplate he called a kitchen. “I just need to find it.” He starts pacingagain, roughly tappinghis temple. “Think, think,think. Where did you putit?”
A bead of sweat rolls down my back, causing me to whimper. It might be cool outside, but in this metal box ofhorrors,it’s sweltering.The weight of thegod-awfuldress he has me in doesn’t help either.It will be a cold day in hell before I ever touch tulle again.
Where are you, Ellis?I clutch my necklace, watchingin frozen horror as Clint tears the place apartlike a man possessed.
Idon’t realize I’ve spoken out loud until he’s in my face, shouting, spittle flying.“Where is who?”
“No one,” I try, but he snarls, roughly gripping shoulders, causing me to cry out in pain.
“Who are you looking for, Scarlet?”He shakes me like a rag doll, my head snapping back from the force. “Is ithim?” he spits.
“H-him who?” I stutter, my ears ringing.
“Ellis. Fucking. Wilder.”His lips curl like an angry dog. “Should’ve fucking killedhim.” He throws me to the grimy, dirt-covered floor. “What do you even see in him?What can he possibly give you that I can't? What's so good about him?” Each shouted question is louder than the last, until he’s red in the face and practically vibrating with rage.
“You’re mine, Scarlet. Not his. Mine.” He thumps his chestfor emphasis.
Idon't know what comes over me, but it's likea haze of reciprocal rage settles over me. “I’m not yours and I never will be.Ellis istwice the manyou could ever dream of being.”
A flash of movement in my periphery is all the warning I get beforeClint backhands me, sending my head crashing into the wall. A trickle of blood drips down my lip, spreading in a macabre pattern as it lands on the dress.
“You...”I stare at him in horror. “You hit me.”
The psycho actually looks proud. “That'll teach you to run yourfuckingmouth.”
The fear clinging to me since I wokeup here takes a backseat to an all-consuming rage. “How can you claim to love me and actively hurt me?”
He purses his lips and mocks me.“How can you claim to love me and actively hurt me?Do you even hear yourself, Scarlet?Pathetic.A woman like you needs a strong hand.You should really count yourself lucky that I’m such a patient, forgiving man.” He runs the pads of his fingers along my jaw before fisting my hair, tugging hard so I have no choice but to look at him.
“You know, it didn’t have to be this way.If you would have just noticed me from the start.... But you didn't.So,here we are.” He morphs before my very eyes, from man to monster.It’salmost as if he’s a real-life Dr. Jekyll, Mr. Hyde. “Andnow,you have to atone for your sins.”
He releases his grip on mewith a forceful shove, once again sending metothe ground.Ispit a glob of blood that lands on the floorinchesaway from him.“You'reactuallyblaming me?” Iwrap my arms around myself if only to keep my thundering heart from beating right out of my chest.“You're insane.”
He laughs, the sounddark andmaniacal. It makes my skin crawl.“I'll show you insane,” he grits out the wordsas he digs in a drawer from the overturned desk.
I rack my brain, trying to think of a way out of this, but the sound of my pulse pounding in my earsproves to be too distracting.
Playing along didn’t help. Fighting back certainly isn’t either. But sitting here, hoping andprayingEllis makes it in time feels... wrong.
What would Nora do?I ask myself, forcing myself tocalm down. Panicking won’t help.
“We will be happy together,you know?” He asks, finally locating whatever he was looking for, but I pay him no mind.
