Scarlett's Letter (Touched by a God #1) (10 page)

Wrong thing Right (9)

ΨΨΨΨΨΨ

The total wrong place: Scarlett

Scarlett said goodnight to the breakfast club and started on her journey home.  Brian had asked, almost pleaded to walk her home, but she just couldn’t bring herself to letting him.  The walk was only five to seven minutes long.  The only obstacle was an alley that was a great asset during the early morning hours and a trap during the evening ones.  When the sun was out, she could take the alley through and cross the street to get to her house.  At night, she would take the street to the end, turn left then left again, cross the street, then walk the 25 feet it would take her to get to her doorstep.  She walked up the block and glanced over.  There was a man walking across the street.  She didn’t like the way he walked.  There was just something about him that just didn’t make it right. As she glanced over again, a bad feeling overtook her.  She should turn around.  She knew she should turn around, but she didn’t.

Scarlett was just making her way toward said hateful alley when the man that she’d been leery of crossed over to her side of the street.  One damn block, it was all she needed to walk and she would be home.  The two block radius was the reason none of the guys truly ever worried about her. It was also why they didn’t insist, too much, in walking or driving her home.  She felt like this would be the night that all of that changed.  Why didn’t she just follow her first mind and go on back to Lydia’s, stay the night, then go home in the morning? 

Scarlett tried to move the long way so she wasn’t in the shadow that tried to capture every grain of light the street light cast.  The shadows reach was much further on this night.  It seemed everything was working against her getting home without a damn incident.  None of her friends were going to allow her to hear the end of this.  Qui had told her to always carry her mace on her.  Chels had told her to carry her miniature horn with her.  Brian and Ryan had chipped in to get her a knife.  Lydia had given her an emergency phone for just in case a moment like the one that she could feel that she was about to have happened.  Her friend’s tended to be overprotective.  They had every right to be since she had a tendency to not regard her well-being and do stupid things like walk home alone, in the dark. 
Stupid, independent, naïve girl. 
Of all the nights to change things up, she’d chosen this one. 

All of those items were in her regular, everyday bag and not the cute bag that went with her chosen outfit.  Hindsight was about to get his teeth kicked in.  She opened her mouth to scream but a
hand,
maybe a claw was clamped down over it.  The arms of the man grabbed her up and wrestled her into the dank, darkness of the alley.  Scarlett tried to kick, but the man made sure to keep his body out of the line of fire.

“Nice try, bitch.  You got something that I want and I’m going to enjoy every moment of it,” his voice sounded hideous. 

He sounded as if he had a mouth full of rocks and he had too much saliva created when he spoke.  There was a hoarseness to it that made her stomach flip.  She felt like there was something that he needed to release from his throat that didn’t want to depart.  It was like some foreign body had taken up residence and didn’t want to move.  His hand or claw felt like it had scales on it.  There was also a distinctive smell of turpentine the surrounded the creature.  Whatever it was, when it spoke of what it planned to do to her, she could feel its erection rubbing against her back. She began to fight even harder.  

The band tightened over her chest cavity and she struggled to breathe. She didn’t want to be an easy target or a remotely willing victim.  Scarlett fell forward then slammed her head back into his face, if that’s what you called it.  She didn’t have time to deal with this type of craziness.  All she wanted to do was go home, take a much needed bubble bath and think about all she needed to handle tomorrow.  This asshole was throwing a big ole monkey wrench into all of that. 
Ugh
.

“Ah, bitch, you are going to …(slurp)… be one tasty treat.  I can’t wait to taste you,” the thing said and it felt like it licked her with a forked tongue.

A shiver rolled over her body.  He took that as an invitation and slipped his freer “hand” up her shirt.  She’d been screaming the entire time, but it was futile because they just came out muffled.  Scarlett shook her head a few times and she was finally able to get him to loosen his grip.  She bit down on his clawed finger as hard as she could.  He immediately let go of her mouth.  She knew she’d drawn blood.  The slight taste that was there before she was able to spit tasted like mud and what she believed tar tasted like.  The despicable taste was one that no person should ever have to partake of. 

“Fuck.  That’s it! You want it rough, then I’ll give it to you rough.  Oh yeah, you’re going to get all that I want to give you and then some.”

Scarlett struggled in his hold, but the vice-like grip that he had on her told her that she wasn’t going to be able to get away.

“Help, please. Please somebody.  Hel…” Scarlett screamed. 

The thing or person suddenly wasn’t holding on to her any longer.  What she felt was a slight tug on her hair as he was quickly moved away from her.  Her body crumpled to the ground and she couldn’t move.  It took her a moment to realize that she was free.  It took her a few more to come to the realization that she was still on the ground of the alley.  In the background, there were sounds that she faintly recognized as blows landing.  She chanced a glance in that direction and was rewarded with looking up into the softest blue eyes she’d ever seen. 

“Are you okay?” the beautiful man with the captivating voice asked. 

She looked at him strangely for a moment.  She could feel the confusion on her face.  Scarlett was still coming to grips with what had almost just happened.  When the haze from the initial shock started to clear, she was compelled to try and explain how it just so happened that she was in the area of the alley in the first place. 

“I was on…I was not far…it was only the equivalent of two blocks with the shortcuts, that is.  I was almost…there,” was what came out of Scarlett’s mouth as she lifted her hand to point. 

It wasn’t exactly English or even a truly coherent statement.  She couldn’t believe whatever that thing was had been planning on taking her against her will.  She hadn’t realized she was crying until she felt the moisture form around her chin and begin to feel them in the fabric of her clothing.  Scarlett was lifted then and carried off.  The scent of the man felt familiar.  There was a musky tone to it and something else, but she didn’t dwell too much on that.  His sexy, deep voice was being put to use.  He was speaking again.  She wanted to catch every word and nuance of it.  The voice was asking her a question.

“What’s your name?” the voice asked her again.

“Scarlett,” she finally responded.  “Scarlett Grace. And you are?”

“Brock.  Brock Jenson,” he responded, mimicking her response. 

“Is there someone that you want me to call for you?” he asked her while shifting her to pull out his phone.

“No.  No.  I’ll be fine.  You can put me down now.  I’m okay to walk.”

She looked up at his beautiful blonde features and he appeared disappointed that he was going to have to let go of her, but eventually he allowed her to stand on her own two feet. 

“Thank you, for that back there.  I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t come along.  Thanks for doing the whole ‘Good Samaritan’ thing.”

She turned away from him and crossed the street. 

“Scarlett Grace, do you mind if I watch you to your door.  I just want make sure that you get in safely.”

“I’ll go you one better. Why don’t you walk me to my door?” she tossed at him.

“I like that idea much better,” he stated, then jogged to catch up to her. 

They walked the few steps it took to get to her walkway, then up her porch in silence. 

“I really do appreciate what you did for me back there.  Not many would’ve stopped.  Even less would’ve actually stopped and gotten involved.  So, thank you again,” she stated, then turned to unlock the door.

“It was the least that I could do.  If I’m being
frank
and not Brock for a moment…,” he smiled when Scarlett giggled at his attempt at whit.  “…then I must say that it was well worth bruising my hand.”

“What was?” Scarlett shook her head at her own ignorance. 

“Having a chance to meet you, albeit under horrible circumstances, it was nice meeting you, Scarlett Grace,” Brock stated as he began to descend the stairs.

“It was nice meeting you too, Brock Jenson.  Thanks again,” she stated to his retreating back. 

Scarlett put the key into the lock and began to turn the knob.  She quickly turned back to face him. 

“Oh, Brock…” she called at the same time that he spoke.

“Um, Scarlett, do…well, you can go ahead,” Brock stated, then gave a courtly bow. 

The gesture had her laughing out loud.  You didn’t see guys doing those types of things.  Where did this guy come from?

When she had control of herself again, she spoke, “Well, I just wanted to see if you wanted to come in and take a look at your hand.  I would hate to think that after everything that happened tonight I could add ‘scarred a perfectly good hand, but not her own’ to my list of regrets.  Would you come in please and let’s take a look at it?”

He smiled a full wattage smile and stated that he really appreciated her hospitality.  He complemented her on her decor and the comfort level of her furniture when he was seated her plush couch in the living room, which made her laugh again.

“That’s three times that I have been fortunate enough to hear your laugh.  It’s a beautiful thing.  If you show me to your bathroom, then I can quickly clean my hands and be out of your beautiful hair.”

Scarlett found herself wanting to know more about this stranger, but she thought better of her thoughts.  She decided not to inquire about the devilishly handsome drink of sexiness that was Brock Jenson.  Instead, she focused her energies on preparing to call a patrol car so that someone else wouldn’t have to endure what she had to.  How was she even functional?   She should be curled up in a corner trying to make sense of the events that had transpired, not contemplating whether she should act on an impulse. 

When Brock came out of the bathroom ten minutes later, Scarlett still hadn’t gotten herself together.  She did make the phone call to the police station and they stated they would send a patrolman out as soon as possible.  She was grateful for small miracles.  The neighborhood would feel a little safer now that she knew someone was out there. 

She hadn’t realized that she was staring out of the window and mumbling to herself until Brock cleared his throat behind her. 

“Wow. Sorry.  I didn’t know I’d drifted off there, lost in my own muddled head.  How are your hands? Did you need to have them looked at any further? If so, please let me know.  We can add that to the report,” she was talking so fast, she didn’t know how he understood anything that she’d said.

“I am pretty good with fast talkers, considering the line of business that I’m in.  My hands are fine.  I won’t need to file a report or anything. Thank you for allowing a perfect stranger into your home and allowing me to get my hands cleaned up.  Have a nice evening,” he stepped away and began making his way toward the door. 

“You’re welcome.  Anytime,” she called, then felt like the biggest idiot for saying that. 

She heard his chuckle as it floated through the air to her.  Scarlett followed him as far as the inner door.  The outer door had an automatic lock that engaged as soon as the door fully closed.  She was getting ready to close her door when she heard his voice again.

“Do you mind if I call you some time?  I know our meeting is a bit unorthodox, but I don’t want to squander an opportunity to get to know the damsel, if you will, if I can help it.  Do you?” he asked. 

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. I, said damsel, really…” she began, but was interrupted.

“How about this?  I’ll leave you my card and if you feel like you would be interested in seeing where this could go, then you call.  If I don’t hear from you then I have my answer.  If I do hear from, then it’ll be a better day because of it.”

“All right, Mr. Brock Jenson, you don’t have to resort to bringing out the big guns with the charm.  I am interested, it’s just…it’s complicated.  I mean…here, give me the thing before I talk you out of even wanting to give me that,” she took his card and they shared a smile. 

“Goodnight, Ms. Scarlett Grace,” he called over his shoulder and she could hear the smile in his voice. 

“Goodnight, Mr. Brock Jenson,” she responded as she closed the door. 

A good night it turned out to be, indeed.  Yeah, it would be a good night if she wasn’t pregnant and “promised” to a certain controlling, egotistical god. Evening effectively ruined.  Why was the situation with Aides worse than possibly being raped for her? Maybe there was something truly, mentally wrong with her.  What a day she had.  Come to terms with pregnancy, possibly.  Tell friends that you’re pregnant, endure their mixed responses.  Determine to walk home, alone and almost get raped in the process.  Meet a hot guy by way of rescue from said rapist and turn him off because you are completely insane, even better.  Focus on the hot guy while remembering you are completely cursed by the gods or Fate, that hateful bitch.    Great! Tub-o-cream was calling her name with caramel, whipped cream and a cherry on top.