Hate & Chaos : The Complete Duet

18. Scarlet

18

SCARLET

D read makes my legs heavy, but I push through it on my way down to the cells. I promised Ren I would visit, and that’s what I’m going to do. If only I knew for sure who I would end up seeing. Is he River this morning? If he is, what do I do? I can’t turn my back on him when he needs me, but does that mean I have to put myself in harm’s way all the time? River can’t do much to hurt me through the bars—that’s all I have to go on as I walk down the stairs and into the mostly quiet space. How does he survive down here in all this silence?

The soles of my shoes against the floor make enough noise for him to hear me, and I see his hands wrap around the bars before I’m close enough to make out the rest of him. “Angel. I was starting to think I wouldn’t see you today.”

I release the breath I was holding. Now my heart beats at a steadier, more normal rhythm as I finish my approach. Yes, he’s Ren now, the Ren I know, and I have to bite my lip to hold back the sob of happiness that stirs in my chest. “Sorry, I overslept a little, so I guess they had somebody else bring your breakfast down.”

He searches my face. There’s a hunger in his eyes. Like he’s dying to know everything he’s missing while he’s locked up down here. “Do you feel okay? Are you sick? You need to take care of yourself. I can’t have you falling apart on me, Angel.”

“I’m doing my best.” I’m also trying to figure out my feelings about the baby, or rather the lack of a baby. How could I have been so dumb? I assumed too much without getting proof. I let myself get caught up in a narrative, and look at me now. Mourning for something that never existed. An idea, that’s all it ever was. How sad. The whole damn situation is so sad.

What’s even worse is I can’t bring myself to get too close to the bars. Just because I came doesn’t mean what happened was right or safe in any way. If anybody found out what he did, I would never be allowed back down here, so I can’t risk River coming out and doing that to me again. We had a close enough call the first time around.

“What is it?” he asks when I won’t come any closer. “Don’t I get a kiss?” There’s something desperate in his empty laughter, and it breaks my heart.

“I’m just trying to give you a little space,” I explain.

“Who says I want space? I’ve got nothing but space down here.” He throws his arms out to the sides. “What I want is you.”

Gripping the bars again, he touches his forehead to the metal and pins me in place with a heavy stare. “What did I do? Tell me.”

“You didn’t do anything.”

Narrowing his eyes, he grunts, “Then what did he do?”

I have to tell him, but I can’t dig the words out. I can’t make my mouth form them. “He grabbed me,” I settle for replying. It’s not the whole truth, but I don’t know if he could handle the whole truth. What if he gets upset, and River comes back out? At the very least, he’ll blame himself, and I don’t want that either.

It’s not all about him. I don’t know if I could admit what he did, because I liked it enough to come—hard. I’m embarrassed and ashamed, and I don’t know what any of it means. I only know he couldn’t handle it if I told him.

His eyes narrow and his nostrils flare. “What did he do to you?”

I’ve hardly told him anything, and already he’s fighting to keep from freaking out. It’s better not to tell him the full truth. “There was no time for anything to happen. Dr. Stone came in for a session.” He must buy it, since his grip on the bars loosens a little, and he doesn’t look quite so much like he’s ready to tear somebody’s head off.

Backing away from the bars, he shakes his hands out, growling. “You see? This is what I was talking about. Why can’t you ever listen to me?”

“What are you talking about?” I can’t let him lose his temper. I need to calm him down, only I don’t know how. I don’t know what’s going on in his head.

“This is why I told you to stay away.” Intensity burns in his eyes until I have to look away. “Now will you listen? What else has to happen for you to figure out I’m not fucking around?”

“I’m not giving up on you.”

“That’s not what this is about. It’s about protecting yourself. From me.” He grips the bars again, squeezing them hard enough that his hands go red. “I can’t trust myself around you. Don’t you get it? I don’t know what I’m doing. What do you think that’s like for me? Coming out of it, thinking nothing’s wrong, and finding out I grabbed you and would have hurt you. It’s torture!” His pained cry echoes off the floors and walls, and rings out in my head loudest of all. “I love you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“And I know that!”

“But I can’t control it yet. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to.” Slamming his palm against the iron between us, he turns away, cursing and snarling. “You need to go. Stay away this time. I mean it.”

“I’m not going to do that!”

“What do I have to say?” He whirls on me, and the look on his face makes me fall back a step. Like an animal in a cage. That’s basically what he is, though, isn’t it?

“I’ll stay away, like this.” I gesture between us with one hand, reminding him of the space between my body and his. “I can still come around, but I’ll be careful.”

“Goddamnit. I don’t want you to have to be careful. Do you know how that feels? I can see the wheels turning in your head,” he tells me, sounding almost hateful. “Wondering if you’re standing too close. If I’m going to go away all of a sudden and leave you with River. It has to be going through your head—don’t pretend it isn’t. I see it. I feel it. Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not lying,” I whisper, trembling but standing tall.

“So you’re honestly going to stand there and tell me you’re not worried at all? Not ever?”

I almost hate him for this. Nobody likes being put on the spot, especially when somebody’s glaring at them the way he is glaring at me. Like all of this is my fault somehow. I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t ask to fall in love with him. I didn’t ask for all of the pain in his past, either. “I’m here to help you get through this.”

Barking out a laugh, he turns his back on me. “That’s not an answer.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I want you to say you’re taking me seriously,” he grunts, pounding his fist against his palm, “and you’re going to stay away from now on.”

“I can’t promise you that.”

Slowly, he turns, and somehow the blank expression he’s wearing scares me worst of all. Like he feels nothing. Like he’s empty, even while looking at me. “I don’t want to see you.”

“I know that isn’t true.”

“It is.” His eyes go cold and hard as they crawl over my body, but it isn’t River staring at me. There’s a difference. I feel it. “Stop telling me what’s true and what isn’t. I know what I’m saying. And I know I want you to go and not come back. Get it? I want you out of here, away from me.”

“I can’t —”

“I don’t give a fuck what you think you can and can’t do!” he bellows, and the sound makes me shudder and wrap my arms around myself. “I don’t want to see you! Got it? What part of that isn’t getting through? Get the fuck out of here and leave me alone!”

He doesn’t mean it. I know he doesn’t mean it. But how pathetic is it for me to stick around and insist I know what he wants better than he does? Especially when he’s looking at me the way he is now, like he hates the sight of me. What if he really does, and I just don’t want to face the truth? I guess if a person spends enough time locked in a cell, they can think all kinds of things they wouldn’t think otherwise. He might even believe he means it.

I must not move fast enough, since he barks, “What is taking you so long? Now! Get the fuck out of my sight!”

With tears clogging my throat and blurring my vision, I stumble down the hall between the rows of cells. I’m so cold inside, shaking, ashamed of myself for still wanting him the way I do. Even after he used my body, I want him. And I don’t know what to do with that feeling. It can’t just go away, not something as deep and profound as what we used to share.

I have a single mission by the time I’m on the first floor of the house: getting to my room before anybody sees me and wonders what happened. I don’t know if I could handle that. It’s one thing for Ren to humiliate me and for his screams to still ring in my ears, but showing anybody how I’m crumbling? I can’t handle that.

So, of course, who happens to be walking down the stairs when I reach them? “Scarlet?” Dad takes hold of my arms before I can get past him, and I must look like hell if he sounds this worried. “What happened? Was it Ren? Did he do something to hurt you?”

“Not the way you mean it.” I run a hand over my cheek to catch the tears that have spilled over. “He doesn’t want to see me. He told me to go and not come back.” I know this is what Dad wants, deep inside. Not even that deep, really. It’s not like he’s made a secret out of wishing I would stay away from Ren.

He pats my arms gently, even a little awkwardly. He’s not a touchy-feely kind of guy. “I hate to see you feeling this way, but you must know he’s right.”

“I knew you would say something like that.”

“And you shouldn’t be surprised you are my ultimate priority. Your safety matters more than anything. And if Ren is determined to keep you away from him, that tells me he cares just as much about keeping you safe as I do. I’m sure it’s for the best, giving him space.”

I couldn’t disagree more strongly, but what am I supposed to do? Arguing with him would be like arguing with a brick wall. I can only tell him what I know he wants to hear. “Yeah. You’re probably right.”

“And who knows? After a few days, he could come around, see things differently.”

“Who knows?” I echo. I’m only saying the words he wants to hear, but I don’t feel them. I don’t feel much of anything beyond loneliness and confusion.

When I first hear feet flying down the hall, it’s almost a relief. Anything, so long as we can change the subject before I start bawling all over the place. Only when Sophie finds us at the bottom of the stairs and comes running our way, it’s obvious something is very wrong.

“Luna,” she gasps. “Where is she? Have you seen her? Scarlet, has she called you?”

“No,” I tell her. Just in case, I check the phone in my back pocket. There’s nothing from her. “What’s wrong?”

With a whimper, she turns to Dad. “She insisted on going.”

“Going where?” he asks, suspicious.

“Home. She was determined to go home and grab some things for Ren. She took one of the cars—I think Frank was driving,” she adds, wringing her hands. “And I can’t get a hold of her. They should’ve been back by now, and she’s not answering her phone.”

“All right, there could be a logical explanation for this.” I hear something else in Dad’s voice, though. It’s tight, like he’s talking through clenched teeth, trying to hold it together for her sake. There is nothing worse than the helpless feeling of watching him calling Frank, seeing his face fall a little at a time with every ring that goes unanswered.

Sophie lets out a broken cry before covering her face with her hands. “I should’ve gone! I should’ve gone with her. I should never have let her go alone. Oh, god, what are they doing to her?”

“One thing at a time.” Dad pats her shoulder while typing something into his phone with his other hand. “We’re going to find her, and we’re going to bring her back. This could all be a misunderstanding.”

He knows better, and so do I. This isn’t a misunderstanding.

It’s another shot fired in a war none of us wanted to get into.

This time, it could be Luna who ends up being a casualty.