Chapter 21- Pure Fear
The muffled thrum of the party pulsed from beyond the hotel room walls, emerging as a faint echo in Sam's chest. Her fingers fidgeted, smoothing out the wrinkles in her sweatpants, her heart drumming an uneasy rhythm.
Scarlett lounged on the bed, her long legs dangling off the edge. She twirled a lock of her golden hair, a predatory glint dancing in her eyes.
"Why so tense, Sam?" Scarlett smirked, reveling in the fear swirling like a storm within Sam. She leaned closer, the air thickening as she whispered, "It's just us. Relax."
"Relax?" Sam's voice cracked. "You say that like it's easy."
Scarlett chuckled softly, tilting her head. "You're making this so dramatic. All I want is some time with my girlfriend."
Sam recoiled, the word hitting her like a cold slap. "I'm not your girlfriend," she blurted, the protest thick on her tongue.
"Oh, but you are." Scarlett crossed her arms, leaning back against the pillows. "You've been mine since the moment you walked into that class ten years ago. Isn't it cute? You still act surprised."
A shiver crept down Sam's spine. "What's cute about being bullied?" She took a step back, the familiar weight of despair settling in her stomach. "Why do you do this to me, Scarlett?"
"Do what?" Scarlett's smile turned sharp, eyes narrowing. "You really think this is bullying? I've given you a place. I've given you... attention. Isn't that what you wanted?"
"Attention? Attention is not forcing me into a corner." Sam's voice trembled, adrenaline fueling her defiance. "You don't care about me. You like seeing me cry."
Scarlett stood abruptly, her expression shifting from teasing to dangerously serious. "Cry? That's just part of how you experience love, Sam. Your tears? They're beautiful."
"Beautiful?" Sam's heart raced, fear bleeding into her next words. "You're twisted. This... this isn't love. It's wrong."
Scarlett's eyes lit with manic energy as she stepped closer, forcing Sam to back up against the wall.
"What do you know about love? You're just a scared little girl."
"Let go of me," Sam whispered, her breath quick and shallow as she sank down, seeking safety even as she knew it was futile.
Scarlett moved even closer, invading Sam's space, her voice syrupy sweet. "Come on, Sam. Just admit it. You love me. You need me."
"No!" Sam's voice erupted before she could stop it. She shook her head violently, desperate to rid herself of the clutches of Scarlett's manipulation. "I need to be free of you."
"Oh, sweetheart." Scarlett's laugh was chilling. "You're free to cry anytime you want, but you know how much I enjoy that game."
Sam clenched her fists, fighting back tears. "You think this is a joke, don't you?"
"Maybe." Scarlett stepped back, crossing her arms, but that smile never left her face. "But I'm not joking when I say you'll never escape from me. I own you. And frankly, I like it that way."
"I'm not a possession!" Sam shot back, the fire in her voice surprising even her. "You can't keep me locked away like I'm some trophy to show off."
Scarlett's expression hardened. "Can't I? You're so cute when you're upset."
For a moment, silence draped the room. Everything else faded—the muffled laughter, the bass from the party. Only Scarlett's intense gaze burned into Sam, her grip tightening around the power she wielded.
