Page 166 of Vile Bastards
“Tricked Out Talent?” Alexis breathes, coming to stand beside her sister.
“Sounds like the name of a brothel,” I mutter. I mean, it does, right?
“You know what that is?” Scarlett asks Alexis, studying the pair of rings yet again. There’s a fondness in her gaze that I’m not sure she knows is there. Part of me is pleased. I mean, my ring is on her finger. The other wonders how long I’m going to have to share the woman that should belong to me and only me.
Forever? Could I handle that?
I would—for Scarlett.
I’d do anything.
“It’s a famous talent agency in Hollywood.” Alexis sneers at her sister, and I feel my blood begin to boil. “What the fuck did you do to get a call from a talent agency?”
Scarlett smiles, but then Alexis is stepping forward and snatching her phone. She throws it as hard as she can against the wall, shattering the glass.
“Why is everything that you do so goddamn special!” she screams, and then she slaps Scarlett, and I am just. fucking. done.
I step forward as Alexis raises her hand yet again, snatching her by the wrist. She jerks her arm back, but I hold tight and then, when she tries to knee me in the balls, I spin her around and grab her from behind.
“Help!” Alexis screams, her voice high-pitched and shrill. “He’s raping me! He’s raping me!”
The words are like a verbal kick to the skull.
I release the girl like she’s made of molten metal, stumbling back as she continues to scream. My wide eyes find Scarlett’s, but she isn’t angry—not with me anyway. Her hand flies out, cracking her sister across the face.
“Stop it!” she shouts, grabbing the girl by the shoulders and giving her a little shake. “He hasn’t done a goddamn thing to you.”
“He grabbed me; he cupped my breasts.” Alexis is hyperventilating, and my vision is going black.
Raping her? Touching her breasts? I’d rather die.
Not only do I despise Alexis Force for the way she treats her sister, but I’ve been sexually assaulted. I’d never … I’d …
Panic sets in then, the panic that I’ve been fighting back for so long, that I’ve been running from. Scarlett has helped me through so much of it, through my fear of touch, through my hatred of sex and romance.
But this?
I … I turn and head for the door, yanking the ‘Vette’s keys from my pocket.
I don’t know where I’m going or what I’m doing, but I don’t care. I just need to get out of there. I start the vehicle only to find Scarlett, barefoot and beautiful, climbing into the passenger side.
She says nothing and neither do I, using my sweaty hands to grip the wheel as I rocket out of her driveway and down the street.
For nearly an hour we drive in total silence.
“I’m sorry that happened to you,” she says, voice soft and low. I don’t want her to think that this is her fault, but I’m not sure that I have the mental fortitude to respond just yet. Talk about some triggers. Nearly every single one of mine went off during that confrontation. “She … does that sometimes. I don’t know why exactly. I do know that she was raped repeatedly by her ex, but …” Scarlett stops and exhales, turning in the seat to face me. “Sometimes, she’ll just be sitting on the couch by herself, and she’ll start screaming that someone is raping her. I don’t know what’s going on with her, but she’s definitely not all there.”
“You make too many excuses for her,” I say finally. I’m not angry at Alexis’ mental problems. I’m angry that she treats Scarlett like crap. I’m upset with myself for what just happened. I was warned not to interfere with Alexis, and I did it anyway.
Now I’m triggered and upset, and I just want to strangle someone like Chet Jr. until I feel better about everything. Is that a messed-up thought to be having? Probably.
But I don’t give a shit.
“Lemon … I messed up real bad with Lemon, Widow. The only thing I can do now is try not to mess up with my older sister.” She turns back to face the front windshield, and we lapse into silence yet again.
In the end, I can’t help myself.
I reach out and take her hand in mine, enveloping it fully, squeezing it hard.
“As growly as you appear, you’re sort of a big teddy bear,” Scarlett mutters, turning and taking her seat belt off. She gets on her knees and leans in to, I think, press a kiss to my cheek. But when she does, I lean back on instinct. I don’t really mean to do it, but goddamn. Hearing a girl accuse me of rape like that, I just … Don’t get me wrong: I don’t believe there are rampant false rape accusations in the world, but ouch.
