The Broken Pieces of Us (The Devil's Dust #2.1)

She doesn’t flinch, just stares. I’m surprised she doesn’t ask about Locks, but not that surprised. Locks probably wouldn’t allow Scarlett back at his house.

“I know what you think.” She takes her gaze from the window and looks at me, those freckles on her cheeks blooming against her pale skin. “You think I’m some junkie whore, but you don’t know anything about me.” Her words scar me, cutting me deep and I don’t know why.

“I don’t know anything about you, you’re right,” I reply. “I am here to help you though.”

She scoffs and looks back at the window. “Don’t waste your time.”

I grab her by the arm and jerk her so she stares at me. Pissed she thinks she is past helping, that she is deemed worthless. If Babs were here, she would surely drag Scarlett out of this room by her hair until she got a grip on life.

“If your aunt were still alive, she would have beaten you within an inch of your life if she saw where you were,” I yell, my voice echoing against the walls.

“Why do you care? Why does it matter to you?” she yells back, her face turning red with anger. I care because she is Babs’ blood. I care because she reminds me of Babs. I couldn’t save Babs. I let her slip right through my fingers. I close my eyes, unsure of an exact answer to give Scarlett.

“Well, you are here in my club, and you will go by my rules. The foremost being no drugs,” I respond, my fist clenching.

“Well, fuck this,” she mouths, scooting off the bed.

“Where do you think you’re going?” I ask, my teeth biting down on my bottom lip as I boil over.

“Out of your fucking club,” she yells, walking out of the bedroom, her red hair flipping down her back. Damn it, she is wearing fucking nothing in a club full of horny men.

“Get your skinny little ass back in that room!” I roar, chasing after her.

She raises her hand and flips me the bird. She is so much like her aunt. I smirk and reach forward, grabbing her by the arm, halting her.

“What are you doing?” she questions, her eyes widening at my hand grabbing her. Ignoring her, I throw her over my shoulder and head back toward the hall as Bobby comes out of the kitchen, his mouth parting with disbelief and eyes widening.

“You can’t do this; this is against the law!” Scarlett yells, pounding against my back.

“I am the law!” I reply, my tone rough.

Bobby smirks. “Just another day at the club,” he smarts, smiling.

I plop Scarlett down on the bed and leave, shutting the door. Holding the door as Scarlett push and pulls on the handle to get out, I look down the hall to see if Bobby is still next to the bar.

“Bobby, get me a lock and latch!” I order. Bobby pops his head around the corner, his brow raised in concern.

“Now!” I demand.

***

“You what?” Doc questions, looking at the door that is locked from the outside with a padlock.

“She tried to leave. I know she would have went back to that crack house; I couldn’t allow that,” I respond, shrugging.

Doc sighs, throwing her head back in frustration. “You get to walk in first. Just in case she is armed or something,” Doc informs, pointing at the door.

Fuck, I didn’t think about that.

“You didn’t think about that, did you?” Doc asks, looking at me for an answer. I look at her, my brows furrowed.

“Of course I did,” I lie.

I hesitantly unlock the latch and slowly open the door, Scarlett nowhere in sight. Shit. I step in, curious where the hell she went.

“Asshole!” Scarlett yells, swiping a knife at me, barely cutting me along the arm.

Doc screams behind me, backing up. I reach forward quickly and grab Scarlett by her boney wrist.

“Drop it,” I spit. She lets go of the blade, her eyes staring at me intently, but out of anger not fear.

“You can’t keep me locked in here,” Scarlett cries, scratching at her arms.

“I can, and I will.”

“How are you feeling?” Doc says, stepping into the room now that Scarlett is disarmed.

“You are with him?” Scarlett questions in shock.

Doc purses her lips and looks away.

“I’m here to help you, Scarlett, and if locking you in a room does it, then so be it,” I inform, crossing my arms.

“Why do you care so much?” she questions, sitting on the bed.

I shake my head, the answer in my head to her question not making much sense. “I don’t know,” I respond honestly, “but I’m here, and you are here, so why not make the best of it?”

“What does that mean?” she questions with a scrunched up face.

“Be honest, if I let you out, would you run back to that crack house?” I ask brutally. She looks away, chewing on her nails anxiously.

“You need rehab, hun. I have done everything I can from here,” Doc informs, stepping up beside me.

“Ha! Rehab cost money,” she retorts, turning to sit back on the bed.

“I can pay,” I quickly add. She looks up at me, her face softening.

“What?” Scarlett mumbles.

“Would you go if Bull pays for it?” Doc asks, her tone soft and caring.