Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Scarlett
I can't stop pacing around the living room.
Every shadow makes me jump. Every creak of the floorboards sends my heart racing.
Dad watches me from the armchair, his face lined with worry and exhaustion. The bruises on his face have darkened to purple and he has a new cast on his leg.
He got home last night, returned to me as Micah promised. But now the worry of what comes next hangs like the breath before a storm.
Night has fallen again and with it a new set of worries. The waiting game. We know it’s only a matter of time before something else happens. Something worse than what’s already happened.
I’m glad we’re home and alive, but every time I look at Dad, I keep thinking I need to get him out of here.
We’ve heard nothing from Anton. When I got back yesterday, all the bodies and blood of his men had been cleared from the house. That would have been Micah’s doing. If it were Anton, he would have been here waiting for me. And I don’t think I’d be here right now.
Anton’s debt still needs to be paid. And I don’t believe for one second that Micah isn’t keeping his eye on us.
The annoying thing is, I can still feel his kiss on my lips and his touch on my skin. Every time I try to shake him from my mind, the memories come back ten times stronger.
I’ve never met anyone who’s managed to confuse me the way he has.
"Scarlett." Dad’s voice stops me in my tracks and I look at him. "Sit down, sweetheart. You're wearing a path in the carpet."
I walk over and sink onto the couch opposite him. "We need to leave, Dad. I think we should leave tonight. Just pack what we can and go."
He leans forward, wincing at the movement. "If anyone needs to leave, it’s you.”
That was the first thing he said when he got home. “I’m not leaving you. Why are you being so stubborn? Can’t you see how much danger we’re in?”
“Don’t ask me that. I can see just fine how much danger we’re in. But, sweetie, we have no money and my leg is fucked. I will slow you down if we have to run. That debt is nothing to do with you.”
“Dad—”
“Scarlett, don’t. I’m not going, but I insist that you go.”
“I’m not leaving you.” My voice cracks and I'm on my feet again.
Dad's eyes narrow. "Scarlett, staying here is fruitless."
“Maybe so, but I’m not leaving you. I need to find a way to get some money, then we can leave town.” I messaged Lucy earlier and she said she’d call me later. I know she’ll loan me the money, but I won’t ask for too much. She’s already given me money and refused to take payments when I tried to pay her back. “I could do my cleaning job in the morning then work at the diner for the whole day and ask if I can get paid early for the week. That would be a grand in our pockets if I get it. Then we could head to Louisiana. To the farm.”
That’s the best idea I can come up with, but going to that farm is a risk on its own. It was Grandma’s. My uncle runs it now.
He and Dad fell out over the inheritance. He worked things so Dad got next to nothing after Grandma died and he took the farm.
“I’m not going to the farm. Your uncle would sooner see me dead than inside that farm.”
“We could try.”
“And what do we do when Anton finds us? My brother and I may not see eye to eye but I’m not taking this kind of danger to his doorstep. He has kids in that house, Scarlett. Anton won’t hesitate to kill everyone.”
Shit… he’s right. And now I feel absolutely awful that I didn’t think of the children. Uncle Miles has four kids. The eldest is thirteen. The youngest still in nappies. The other two are eight and ten. Realistically, they’re all babies.
A car drives past outside, its headlights sweeping across our living room windows. I freeze, holding my breath until the sound of the engine fades into the distance. When I look back at Dad, his expression has shifted from worried to calculating.
"We can't just sit here waiting for Anton to come back." My voice sounds small, even to my own ears.
"No," Dad agrees. "We can't."
“We need something to buy us some time,” I rasp, bringing my hands together.
"I think we already have that," Dad speaks slowly. "Micah Delarosa’s presence here seems to have kept Anton away. At least for the moment."
My chest squeezes but a little spark of hope flutters in my heart. "Do you think so?"
“Yes. I think that’s the only reason he’s not here yet. I don’t know much about Micah, but I know he’s powerful. Whatever was supposed to be on that chip would have been worth millions. It would have been worth enough for the Nexxus guys to give us a big payout. I sense that he’s way above Anton in the food chain.”
A chill runs down my spine as I remember the way Micah said if I’d known who he was, I wouldn’t have gone anywhere near him.
The thing is, I still don’t truly know him. But I think Dad is right. You wouldn’t just stop chasing a three-hundred-and-forty-thousand-dollar debt if nothing was stopping you. "Anton’s scared of Micah.”
Dad nods. “He’s wary, at the very least. But that fear will only last for so long. I think he’s checking things out and seeing what connection we have to Micah. Then he’ll be back. When he comes back, I don’t want you here.”
“Dad—”
“Scarlett, don’t argue with me. You know this shit is exactly why your mother left me.” He bites down hard on his bottom lip.
“How on earth can you say that?”
“Because it’s true. I’m not powerful like these men who think they rule the world and she knew I was never going to make it big the way she wanted. She was right. Look at me—fucking useless.”
“Dad, that’s not true.”
“I couldn’t even protect myself or you. Men broke into our home and beat me up in front of my daughter. We’re just lucky Micah let us go.”
Lucky.
No. I think I had something to do with Micah’s decision to let us go.
The answer was in his kiss. But I can’t talk about that.
“Dad, Mom was… not a good person. You stayed and took care of Johnny and me. You were a real father. A real parent. She wasn’t.”
Nothing will ever remove the memory of my mother leaving. I will always remember the day with perfect clarity. How she lied and said she was going to the market. How she looked as she lied.
The first inkling that she was lying or about to do something horrible came with the lie. She wouldn’t normally leave Johnny and me in the house by ourselves, but it was like she stopped caring that day.
I remember the car that picked her up and the man inside. She hugged him and kissed him, then they drove off. It wasn’t until Dad came back from work that night that I realized things were never going to be the same again.
Dad reaches out to take my hands and I move toward him. “Let me be real for you again. Allow me to be your father and listen to me. Pack a bag, baby girl and leave tomorrow. Do your jobs and don’t come back here. You can head to the farm. Your uncle won’t turn you away. The moment I leave the men will go looking for me. That’s why I need to stay and deal with them. Or at least not be anywhere near you."
My stomach heaves, empty and sour, as if my body's trying to purge the terror coursing through it. “Dad…”
“Please listen to me, Scarlett. Johnny took care of himself. Let me take care of you. The longer we leave things, the riskier it becomes. Leave tomorrow. I’ll try to figure something out.”
My phone rings in my pocket, cutting into the moment. That will be Lucy.
“I have to take this call. I think it’s Lucy. I’m going to ask her to lend me some money.”
“Take the call then get some sleep. Don’t you worry about me anymore.”
The phone rings insistently as if screaming at me to answer it.
I take it out of my pocket and see I’m right. It is Lucy.
I answer the call but keep my gaze on Dad. I never gave him an answer, and I won’t. I can’t.
It would kill me if something happened to him.
“Scarlett, are you there?” Lucy’s voice sounds in my ear.
“Yeah. Give me a second.”
“Sure.”
Dad nods and I look away from him, deciding this is a fight I won’t win. Because he's just trying to be my father.
I head to my room, switch on the lamp, and sit on the window bay, then I pull in a breath and prep to humiliate myself further. Lucy is always offering to help me, but I never want to take advantage.
Of course, asking for the loan means telling her what’s happening. I don’t want to do that part, either.
“Hey, Lucy,” I say, trying to sound like my usual self. “Thanks for calling me.”
“Of course. I’m sorry we couldn’t talk earlier. I’ve been in casting all day, and the director I’m working with is a real pain in the ass.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Scarlett, what’s going on? You’re worrying me. I can tell something’s wrong because I haven’t heard from you.”
She’s been calling but I haven’t gotten back to her. It’s hard for me to talk to her when shit is happening because I find it difficult to act like everything is fine.
Sometimes that’s okay, but sometimes not. Like how I kept my silence about Anton’s abuse.
“I have a lot to tell you. It’s not good.”
“Tell me everything.”
I release a haggard sigh and then tell her about the horrors I’ve experienced over the past few days. I even tell her about sleeping with Micah in New York and how he kissed me before releasing me. By the time I’m done relaying the details of my conundrum, I’m all tapped out.
Lucy sighs and the static ripples in my ear. “Jesus, Scarlett. I don’t even know what to say. Why didn’t you call me? Or even see me when you were in New York?”
“I didn’t want to drag you into my mess.”
“You’re my best friend. You know I would have been there for you.”
“I know.”
“How is your father now?”
“Not good. He’s insisting on staying. He wants me to leave and head to Louisiana without him.”
“Scarlett… I hate to say this, but he’s right. You need to get the hell away from there. Anton is going to be furious. And you know what that looks like.”
“Yeah.”
“I can send you seven thousand tomorrow night. I’m waiting on a payment to come through.”
The weight on my shoulders eases. “My God, Lucy. Thank you. I’ll pay it back as soon as I can.”
“Don’t you dare worry about that now. Maybe that money will be enough to get your father someplace safe for a few nights while he figures things out, but you need to leave.”
“Okay… I’ll plan for that.”
“What about coming back to New York? You could stay with me.”
I’m shaking my head even though she can’t see me. “No, that’s too much.”
“Think about it, at least. We could spend our days talking about casting jobs and whatever. Like in college.” She chuckles lightly.
My heart squeezes when I think back to the magical time we had in college. “That would be great. But I think I need to be somewhere else just for the moment.”
She’s already done so much for me. Also, Anton knows where Lucy lives and how close we are. Her place is the first he’d search for me. While he knows I have family in Louisiana, he doesn’t know where they live. Since I don’t plan on staying with my uncle for long, I’m hoping that by the time Anton realizes where I am—if he looks for me—I’ll be someplace else.
“Okay. I understand, but please consider me an option.”
“I will.”
“Good. Now try to get some sleep and don’t worry.”
“Thanks. I appreciate you.”
“I know you do. We’ll figure this out, okay?”
“Okay.” Although I say that, I’m more terrified than I’ve ever been in my life.
We hang up and I rest my hands on the padded cushion of the window bay.
I barely get a moment to breathe before an orange pinprick glow in the shadows through the window catches my attention.
The intense paranoia I’ve been feeling delivers a punch to my gut, and I stand, squinting into the darkness beyond the reach of the garden light.
My breath catches as the ember brightens, illuminating the outline of a man standing by the trees in the woods.
The orange glow—the end of a cigarette, I realize—along with the subtle moonlight is just bright enough to see the sharp planes of his face, and I realize I’m not looking at an ordinary person.
That’s Micah.
Oh God.
The cigarette's glow paints his features in hellfire orange, shadows dancing across his jaw as he takes another long drag.
He doesn't move, doesn't try to hide, doesn’t do anything besides watch me while the smoke curls around him like a lover's caress.
Holy fucking shit. How long has he been there?
Why is he there?
My legs turn to water, but I can't look away. I watch him too, taking note of the ease in which he leans against the tree. As if he owns it like everything else in the world.
Even though I can't see his eyes, I feel them burning into me, branding me. Marking me .
The cigarette traces a lazy arc through the darkness as he lowers it. Then, after what seems like a lifetime has passed, he finally steps back into the shadows, disappearing like a nightmare at dawn.
It’s only then I realize I've stopped breathing.