Shades of Scarlet

Chapter Three

Chapter Three: Company

My coughing won’t stop. Midway through the ride, the man spun around and started to spray perfume all over me. It stinks, and I could be having an allergic reaction to it because some parts of my body are starting to itch--but that might be my imagination.

We stop in front of a creepy mansion. The sky is pitch black—the only way I am able to tell that a building is there is through the lights shining through its windows. I check the time on my watch and am shocked to find out that it is nearly midnight. We were driving for more than five hours! About a couple of hours into the ride, crying had drained most of my energy and I drifted off into deep sleep.

“We’re here,” my captor says. He gets out on his side of the car and opens the door for me. “After you.”

Even the scary surroundings cannot distract me from what happened to Carmen. As I walk toward the building, I start to almost cry, but my tears have already been too dried up for any more to fall. A raging headache pounded at my skull—the result of crying too much.

The floor crunches when I step on it. The darkness blinds me and I cannot see what lies on the floor. The pitch blackness makes me uneasy. As if knowing that I needed help, the man reaches out for my hand and pulls me closer to him. I follow him as he leads the way. His body is so close that I can feel his heat—I shouldn’t pay too much attention to it.

The details of the mansion become clearer as we approach the light. Surrounding it are trees with bare branches; the branches twist around each other. The mansion’s cement walls are in dire need of cleaning; vines creep on them to form an intertwined crochet of netting. We stop in front of the shut door. A beautiful red flower has bloomed on one of the vines. It is odd to see flowers blooming in the middle of winter, but I pay no attention to it.

The man raps on the door. Before three knocks the door opens to welcome us in.

A woman had opened the door. She walks back into the house without a single greeting. The first thing about her that strikes me is her leather jacket and choppy short hair. When she turns around in the light of the room, her bright gray eyes glow at me. They are so beautiful and unusual that I almost get entranced by them.

“Is she the one?” she asks, crossing her arms and pursing her lips. She does not seem to like me much, or maybe she’s just not very nice in general.

“Yes, she’s the one. You could have picked a better spot for us to rest,” he says, inspecting the house, “this place looks like it’s going to crumble any minute.”

She rolls her eyes and sits down on an old sofa that has spider webs trailing down its sides. “You wanted secluded, and we weren’t allowed to kill anybody. There aren’t many pretty, well-kept houses in the middle of nowhere that are up for taking.”

Did she say kill? I must have heard wrongly.

Sensing my distress, the man holds my hand and gives it a squeeze. I’m sure he meant for it to be reassuring, but it only makes me more certain that she actually said kill.

Who are these people? Are they really supposed to protect me?

“Where are the other two?” the man asks the woman.

“Cedric and Andrew are on watch. They’re surveying the perimeter. So far I’m only getting text messages that say ‘all clear’ every so often.”

He nods his head. “That’s good. Is anybody guarding this house?”

Her eyes shift to a corner. “No.”

“Watch the roof. When the other two come back ask them to circle this place. We leave for the airport tomorrow night. I want this place completely secured until then.”

“What about you?”

He gestured to me. “I will stay here and guard her.”

“Yes, sir.” She uncrossed her arms and headed up the stairs, dragging her feet more than necessary.

The man then turns his attention to me, a light smile on his face. My palms are sweaty due to my nervousness. I want to wipe them on my dress but he is still holding onto one of my hands.

“I forgot to introduce myself,” he says, breaking the silence, “I’m Darien.”

“Juliette,” I squeak, surprised by my own lack of courage. I have so many questions to ask him, but the events that played has convinced me that he and whoever he hangs out with are a group of murderers and crazy serial killers, so I don’t dare to raise them. I’m pretty sure that she said kill just now.

He sits me down onto the sofa that the woman was sitting in one minute ago. “Are you afraid?” It sounds like a typical question a serial killer would ask, but his voice is coated with genuine concern.

“Yes,” I say.

He cups my head with his large palm and hugs me to his chest. “Don’t be, I won’t ever let any harm come to you.” I can hear his heart beating. It is pumping steadily; it’s soothing to listen to. I find myself carelessly trusting this man again, and his embrace brings me more comfort than I have ever felt.

I want to ask him why he makes me feel like this, but another question burns strongly in my mind. “Why do you know Carmen?”

I can feel him hold his breath briefly when I mention Carmen. He lets me go and sits next to me. “She’s an old friend of mine. She helps us out with our… business.”

“What kind of business?”

“It’s confidential.” A melancholic smirk brushes his lips.

I’m starting to get tired of all the secrecy that fills my life. Carmen never told me anything about my past either.

He reaches into his jacket and takes out something. “Anyway, I got this for you.”

I look closer and see that he is holding a sandwich. Looking at the food makes me notice that I’m hungry—I haven’t eaten since lunch.

“Thank you,” I say as I accept it. I unwrap it slowly and take small bites.

He watches as I eat. “We’re going up to New York tomorrow night. There’s more people there so they won’t be able to track us as easily.”

I want to ask who are they, and why they’re so abruptly throwing my life’s balance off, but Darien didn’t answer the first time so why would he the second? “Why do you have to protect me? I’m nobody important.”

He chuckles softly. “You’re very important, Juliette. I’m sure that Carmen had made that clear to you. You might not remember, but you are.”

Darien knows my past, yet like Carmen, he doesn’t want to reveal a single detail about it. I am dying to know. With the death of Carmen, I have lost my only anchor. Not much is left for me to live for. Maybe a reason to continue living lies buried in my memories.

“Why won’t the both of you tell me anything about the old me?” I say, speaking more to myself than Darien.

“Because you told us not to.”

The words fly past me before I understand them. For the first time in three years, I am given a small glimpse of what happened before I forgot everything. But Darien’s answer hardly satisfies me. It starts a flame, and serves to create more questions.

I crumple the sandwich wrapper in my hands. “I did? Why?”

“You wanted to forget, so we respected your wishes.” His eyes darken as he remembers my past. He reaches out both his arms and pulls me into a hug. At first I think that he is trying to provide comfort, but the sadness that emanates from him makes it seem like he needs my touch more than I need his.

What did I want to forget? An unfamiliar fear creeps closer. I don’t know what is so frightful, but then I tell myself that I don’t really want to know either.