Red Flag

Charlotte was momentarily disoriented and unsure of what the booming sound she heard was.

"Who the hell are you?” She had heard.

Her eyes darted around the unfamiliar room before coming to a halt on the man standing in front of her. She felt a sudden jolt of fear and confusion. Charlotte's mind was still hazy from her sleep, and she struggled to fully comprehend the situation she was in.

He grabbed her arm tightly and pulled her out of the room, being careful not to wake the sleeping child. Confused and disoriented, Charlotte stumbled behind him as they made their way into the hallway.

Trent dragged Charlotte out of the room, she could feel his grip tightening on her arm. She wanted to pull her arm away from his grip, but she was too shocked and scared to think. As they walked down the hallway, Charlotte tried to keep up with Trent's brisk pace, stumbling a bit in her sleepy state.

With each step, the pain in her arm intensified, the way his fingernails were digging into her skin was unbearable. She bit her lip to prevent herself from crying out in pain, hoping that he would release her soon

Trent turned to face her, a frown on his face.

"Who the hell are you, and what are you doing in my wife's dress?" he demanded, his grip on her arm tightening.

Charlotte tried to gather her thoughts, her mind still foggy from sleep.

"I'm sorry, I'm the new nanny. Eva made me wear it while we were playing house."

Trent's face softened slightly at the mention of his daughter, but his grip on Charlotte's arm didn't lessen.

"Take it off immediately," he commanded, his tone still angry.

"Yes, of course," Charlotte replied, trying to keep her voice steady as she hurried to the guest room.

As soon as she entered the guest room, Charlotte quickly shut the door behind her, still feeling a bit shaken. She took a deep breath and looked around the room, trying to gather her thoughts.

As she examined her arm, Charlotte muttered,

"What the hell?"

The pain was throbbing, and she could see nail marks on her skin that had broken the surface, leaving small drops of blood. She couldn't believe that the man had grabbed her so roughly, and she felt a mix of anger and fear. She wondered who he was and why he had behaved that way towards her.

“Who was that monster?”

Charlotte looked at herself in the mirror, the tacky dress hung loosely around her body. It was a bright pink color with frilly edges, and a cartoon unicorn emblazoned on the front. She couldn't believe she had been made to wear it by the little girl she was babysitting, and now her boss had seen her in it.

“Just because of this ugly dress? It's not even my style for heaven's sake!”

The unicorn was particularly gaudy, with glittery stars and rainbows around it. The frills around the sleeves and hem made her look childish and silly. She wondered what kind of adult would design such a thing and even wear it.

Charlotte shook her head in disbelief as she took off the dress. It was uncomfortable, tacky, and downright embarrassing. She had only worn the damned thing for Eva's sake.

She quickly unzipped the dress and let it slip off her shoulders, revealing her underwear beneath. She gave the offending dress a hard kick with her foot, wanting to express her frustration in some way.

The dress went flying across the room, hitting the wall with a soft thud. Charlotte felt a small sense of satisfaction at the sight, but it was short-lived as she was reminded of the pain in her arm. She looked down and saw the red marks on her arm again and blew warm air over it.

God, this wasn't how she wanted to be treated on her first day on the job.

She slipped back into her own clothes.

"Red flag, Charlotte. Damned red flag!"

Her mind was racing as she tried to process everything. Being grabbed like that was not only inappropriate but also abusive. She didn't want to be a part of that kind of environment. It was time to cut her losses and leave, regardless of whoever the fuck he was.

She didn't want to waste any more time in that house. She grabbed her purse, slinging it over her shoulder, and stormed towards the door. Her anger still simmering, and as she reached it, she pulled it open with force. The door slammed loudly, making a sharp banging sound as it hit the frame. The noise echoed through the room.

Charlotte didn't look back, and instead kept walking, her steps heavy with frustration. The door continued to shake from the impact, adding to the noise and making her exit even more dramatic.

Trent stood tiredly in front of the bathroom mirror, his hand resting on the countertop as he splashed water onto his face. The tiny traces of blood that clung to his fingers were washed away as he rubbed his hands together under the running water.

As he looked up at his reflection in the mirror, he could see the bags under his eyes and the exhaustion etched onto his face. He rubbed his forehead, feeling the throbbing pain of his hangover.

Trent turned off the faucet and reached for a towel, drying his hands and face before tossing it into the hamper. He leaned against the sink, feeling the coolness of the tile against his back.