Chapter 9- The Breaking Point
1511 Words
Dean
Something was wrong.
Dean felt it long before anyone said a word.
At first it was subtle.
A tightness low in his chest.
An instinct.
That same restless feeling he always got whenever Scarlett disappeared too long at parties like this.
But then Will came shoving through the packed cabin looking panicked and soaking wet—
And every nerve in Dean’s body immediately went sharp.
“Have you seen Scarlett?”
Dean slowly looked up from where he stood near the kitchen counter, whiskey untouched in his hand.
Will looked wrecked.
Hair dripping from the hot tub.
Chest heaving.
Panic written all over his face.
And guilty.
Very f*****g guilty.
Dean’s expression darkened instantly.
“No.”
Will cursed under his breath while aggressively running both hands through his wet hair.
“She saw me with Priscilla and freaked out.”
Something cold settled violently inside Dean’s chest.
Of course she did.
Because Scarlett actually loved this asshole.
“What the f**k did you do?” Dean asked quietly.
The calmness in his voice was more threatening than yelling.
Will ignored the question completely, already scanning the crowded cabin again.
“I can’t find her.”
Dean’s stomach dropped hard.
Wrong.
Everything suddenly felt wrong.
Dean straightened slowly.
“When’s the last time you saw her?”
Will frowned, clearly trying to think through the alcohol.
“I don’t know… twenty minutes maybe?”
Twenty minutes.
Dean’s pulse turned deathly calm.
Then—
He spotted Blaine’s friends standing near the back hallway.
Watching.
Too tense.
Too alert.
The second one noticed Dean staring at them—
He immediately looked away.
And Dean knew.
Rage exploded so hard through his chest it almost blurred his vision.
Without another word, Dean shoved violently through the crowd toward the hallway.
“Dean—yo what the f**k—”
People stumbled out of his way immediately.
Erik called after him somewhere behind the noise.
Dean ignored all of it.
Every instinct inside him screamed now.
Scarlett.
The hallway blurred as Dean stormed toward the back bedrooms, fists clenching so tightly his knuckles cracked.
One football player suddenly stepped into his path nervously.
“Bro don’t go in there—”
Dean grabbed him by the throat and slammed him into the wall hard enough to shake the pictures hanging beside them.
“Get the f**k out of my way!”
The guy immediately stumbled away coughing.
Dean reached the final bedroom door.
Locked.
His entire body went terrifyingly still.
Then—
A muffled cry came from inside.
Scarlett.
That sound shattered the last piece of control had left.
The bedroom door exploded inward beneath one brutal kick hard enough to crack the frame.
The entire room froze instantly.
And for one horrifying second—
Dean saw red.
Scarlett lay trapped beneath Blaine on the bed, hoodie shoved halfway off her body while tears streaked down her flushed cheeks.
Her wrists pinned above her head.
Her legs struggling weakly beneath him.
Terrified green eyes glassy and unfocused from whatever the f**k they gave her.
Blaine looked up in shock.
“Dean—”
The two guys guarding the door moved first.
Huge mistake.
Dean caught the first one with a punch so vicious it snapped his head sideways instantly before slamming him face-first into the wall.
The second guy lunged.
Dean drove his elbow directly into his throat before smashing his face into the dresser hard enough to drop him unconscious onto the floor.
Then silence.
Heavy.
Breathing hard.
Violent silence.
Dean slowly turned toward Blaine.
And Blaine actually looked afraid.
Good.
He should be.
Blaine scrambled backward off Scarlett immediately.
“Listen man—it’s not—”
Dean hit him so hard blood exploded across the floor.
Blaine crashed sideways off the bed with a choked gasp.
Dean followed him instantly.
No hesitation.
No restraint.
Years of buried rage exploded out of him all at once.
His fist slammed into Blaine’s face again.
And again.
Bone cracked loudly beneath Dean’s knuckles.
Blood covered the floor.
Blaine tried lifting his arms weakly to protect himself.
Dean grabbed him by the front of his shirt and smashed his head directly into the hardwood floor.
“You touched her?”
His voice sounded terrifyingly calm.
Blaine spit blood while coughing hard.
“She wanted—”
Dean nearly killed him for that sentence alone.
His fist collided with Blaine’s jaw hard enough to knock him nearly unconscious instantly.
“You drugged her?”
Another hit.
“You put your f*****g hands on her?”
Another.
Blaine finally stopped fighting altogether.
Dean grabbed his bloody face violently, forcing him to look up.
“If you ever think about touching her again,” he whispered coldly, “I’ll f*****g kill you.”
Pure terror flashed across Blaine’s face.
Good.
Dean shoved him backward before immediately turning toward Scarlett.
And the sight nearly destroyed him.
She looked so small curled against the mattress.
Half-conscious.
Shaking.
Terrified.
Her cheeks soaked with tears.
Something painful cracked open inside Dean’s chest.
“Scarlett…”
Her eyes fluttered weakly toward him.
Completely dazed.
“Dean…” she whispered brokenly.
Fuck.
That almost killed him.
Dean crossed the room instantly before kneeling beside the bed.
“You’re okay,” he said immediately, voice softening in a way nobody in that room had probably ever heard before. “I got you. You’re safe now.”
Scarlett let out the weakest shaky breath before her fingers curled instinctively into the front of his black shirt.
Like she trusted him automatically.
Dean carefully pulled her hoodie back up over her shoulders before lifting her gently into his arms.
She melted weakly against his chest immediately.
And something violently possessive twisted through Dean seeing how vulnerable she was.
Nobody was touching her again.
Nobody.
Dean carried her out of the room while blood dripped slowly from his split knuckles onto the floor behind him.
The second he stepped back into the crowded cabin—
Everything went silent.
Music still played somewhere faintly in the background.
But the room itself?
Dead silent.
People stared openly.
At Dean covered in blood.
At unconscious Scarlett cradled protectively against his chest.
At the pure murderous rage still written across his face.
Then Will appeared.
And immediately froze.
“What the f**k happened?”
Dean kept walking.
Will stepped directly in front of him this time.
Panic flooded his face seeing Scarlett barely conscious.
“What happened to her?” he demanded.
Dean’s stare turned lethal instantly.
“Move.”
Will looked between Scarlett and the blood coating Dean’s hands.
Then his face twisted with confusion and anger.
“What the f**k did you do to her?”
Dean almost laughed.
Actually laughed.
Because this pathetic motherfucker still didn’t understand.
Scarlett whimpered softly against Dean’s chest, weak fingers clutching tighter into his shirt.
Dean’s entire body tightened protectively around her instantly.
Will reached toward her immediately.
“She’s my girlfriend, not yours.”
Dean stepped back instantly.
And the look on his face turned downright murderous.
“Your girlfriend?” Dean repeated quietly.
Will’s jaw flexed hard.
“Dean—”
“You left her alone.”
Silence crashed through the room.
Dean’s voice stayed terrifyingly calm.
“You let her walk away crying while you sat in a f*****g hot tub with another girl in your lap.”
Will went pale.
Dean stepped closer.
“And while you were busy getting drunk and acting like a selfish f*****g child,” he continued coldly, “your teammates drugged her.”
The entire room froze.
Will looked sick instantly.
“No…”
Dean’s eyes burned with fury.
“You were supposed to protect her.”
For the first time all night, Will looked truly ashamed.
Dean adjusted Scarlett more securely against his chest before moving toward the front door again.
Then paused.
Without turning back, he said coldly:
“She’s done with you.”
And this time—
Nobody tried stopping him.
Outside, rain hammered violently against the lake property while thunder cracked overhead.
Dean carried Scarlett carefully through the storm toward his black truck.
Behind him, Erik shoved through the cabin doors looking pale and furious after hearing enough of the argument inside to understand something horrible had happened.
The second Erik saw Scarlett unconscious in Dean’s arms, his face drained of color completely.
“What happened?” he demanded sharply.
Dean’s jaw tightened.
“I’ll explain in the truck.”
Erik looked ready to kill someone.
He glanced back toward the cabin once with pure rage before following Dean through the storm without another question.
Dean carefully opened the passenger door and eased Scarlett into the seat gently.
She stirred weakly as he brushed wet hair away from her flushed face.
“Dean…” she whispered softly.
Hearing her voice like that nearly f*****g ruined him.
“I got you,” he said quietly.
Erik climbed silently into the backseat while Dean shut the passenger door carefully.
And finally feeling safe for the first time all night—
Scarlett slipped unconscious.
- Writer
