RAGE

Chapter 23. Saving Scarlett.

Scarlett.

They dragged me out the room while I am kicking and screaming his name.
"Let me go. Let me go. Let me go." I screamed, with my scratchy throat.
"RAGE...." I screamed at the top of my lungs, but Roger, put three of his fingers inside my mouth, making me gag.
"Stop screaming you bitch!!" He whisper yelled.
The group parted into the dark dimly lit hallways.
With four of them staying behind. Father and rest going into one of the dark hallways. While Roger carried me into another dark hallway.
My father, spoken in Italian as he barked orders at everyone.
Its what he said, that he had me in my panic mode.
He wanted to blow off this building, which is actually an abandoned warehouse in middle of no where.
With the gun shots and yells coming from somewhere in this place, I could tell, there was a war going somewhere.
Father, had ordered Roger to take me through the backdoor, while he will grab Timothy and follows us close behind.
I start biting on Roger's fingers, making him hiss in pain. He drops me on the floor while howling in pain.
I may have drawn some blood.
But I hardly cared.
They are not going to blow off MY Rage inside this warehouse. I am not allowing them to take me and Timmy away. I am going home with my man, tonight. Even if I have to kill them by myself.

"You fucking bitch." Roger screams at me.
He lunges himself on top of me, crushing me with his weight.
I try pushing him off, but he has my neck in his deathly grip while he uses the other hand to slap me.
"You are going to get it." He screams at me.
"Maybe I should just take you here, so your husband can watch me while I rape you" He hisses in my face, as I coughed. He hisses the word husband with so much venom, it had my skin crawling.
I wont allow it. It will kill Rage.
He will kill them all. He will destroy everything.
Without a moment of hesitation, when his grip loosens on my neck, I kick. And I kicked good.
He falls on top of me but does not lets me go.
"I hate you." I screamed at him, while I scratched his ugly face with my finger nails.
Not a single thing bothered him, not my screaming, not my scratching, nor my kicking.
Everywhere you could hear footsteps and shoutings. But no one came to help me from this nightmare.
He tears off my underwear and takes off his buckle belt in a swift motion.
I watch his ugly penis spring out and I felt bile rising up in my throat.
When he grabs my hips to pull me closer to him, I screamed bloody murder.
As if on instinct, I start to reach for something in the dimly lit hallway.
"Stop." I yelled, feeling my tears sting my scars.
"I am going to take you. Than I will kill that fucking husband of yours." He hissed.
When I feel my fingertips touching something metal, I don't think twice, I grab it and bring it onto his head with a loud metal thud.
He howls in pain, as he grabs his bleeding, torn up head and rolls off me.
I get up on my shaking feet and realise I had a shovel in my hands.
How convenient.
"You will never. Hurt. Me. Again." I screamed and hit him in the head with the shovel with every word.

"Scarlett." I hear my name call out and my head whips up.
And just like every romantic movie. Where the hero enters the exact moment, his heroine needs him, Rage stood there with his gun aimed forward.
His eyes were big and scary, as he looked at me, with a broken body, a bloody shovel raised up in my hands and a man under my feet, writhing in pain.
Pain that I caused him.
I didn't realise I was crying until he lowers down his gun and raises his palms in the air in a manner of surrender.
"Baby. Lower the shovel. Its me." He says in a calm sweet voice. That he only possesses for me.
I was hysteric.
I wondered if he was real. Or is this the part of my imagination.
I wondered if Roger had really raped me, and I am just imagining things in order to forget the pain, he caused me.
Atleast thats what I had always done when I was in Italy.
Imagine things that will never happen.
"Baby. Look at me. Look at me. Please." His voice urges, but I shook my head.
I have been hurt too much.
I cant lower my defence.
What if I am imagining this?
What if Rage is not here?
"Baby...." He whispers taking a step forward but I step back in defence and raised the shovel higher.
"Please....Scar. Look at me. Its me. Rage. I am here. Baby. I won't let anyone hurt you." He said with pain when he looks at me, but anger when he looks down at the screaming sound of a man.
I shook my head, and wiped my eyes on my shoulders.
"Scar....I am here, now. I won't ever let anyone hurt you, baby. Never again. Cmon baby. Let me take you home." He urges, taking another step forward, but this time I did not move. I was transfixed.
He looks so beautiful.
So beautiful.
Dressed in an all black tshirt, jeans, combat boots and gun holsters.
He was angry.
That I know.
His anger is the most beautiful part of him.
He looks like an avenging angel.
My angel.
My hero.
"R-Rage..." I sobbed.
Within a second, the shovel drops on the floor as Rage grabs me in his arms and I wrap my arms around his neck, supporting my lifeless body onto his.
"R-Rage. You're here. You are really here." I sobbed.
"Yes baby. I am here. I am here to take you back home." He whispered, kissing my shoulders, my neck, my hair, everything within his lips's reach, they left lovely kisses on my skin.
"R-Rage. They hurt me, Rage. The-They used to torment me. They wanted to-to r-rape me. R-Rage. St-op them-them." I sobbed, clinging onto his shoulders.
"Shh....baby. I am here now. I won't ever let anyone hurt you. I will kill them all. All. Baby." He promised darkly.
He is here.
My hero is here.
He will save me.