7. Scarlett
Chapter seven
Scarlett
A streak of sunlight cascades through the slight gap in the wall-sized curtains, aiming directly at my face. I wince, stretching my arms and legs. Sitting up and rubbing my eyes, I blink, suddenly noticing a vase of fresh pink flowers. I reach out, gently grazing the soft petals between my fingers. They’re beautiful.
Leaning forward, I inhale their pleasant aroma and uncover a note placed partially beneath the vase.
Firefly,
I didn’t want to wake you.
I’m meeting with my brothers this morning.
I’ll be back in the afternoon.
Please eat something.
Eli is stationed outside the house.
Yours, Leo
I bite my bottom lip, holding back the smile taking over as butterflies swarm my stomach.
Opening the bedroom door, I’m greeted by my second favorite pair of eyes that elicit an automatic grin as his butt wiggles back and forth. “Are you hungry, big guy?” Brutus’s dancing picks up, and his head nudges my leg, slobber making its way onto my leggings. “Okay. Okay.” I laugh. “Let’s go get some breakfast.”
He follows me, matching my stride as we walk through the hall, down the stairs, and into the kitchen. I grab his dish and fill it with a scoop of dry dog food, but it feels like it’s missing something. He couldn’t possibly enjoy eating this every day, right? Maybe some green beans or carrots might add some flavor.
My eyes dart to the fridge, unease creeping up my spine.
But that would involve using a knife…
A tremor runs down my spine. I don’t know if I’m ready for that right now.
Unease fills me at the thought of having another panic attack with Leo not here to help me through it.
A slight whimper from Brutus pauses my thoughts as I look back at him patiently waiting for me.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I can do this.” I straighten my shoulders and let out a breath just as I open the fridge door. “I can do this. I’m just cutting some vegetables. It’s not a big… What the—”
An assortment of labeled containers, big and small, line the shelves, stacked on top of one another.
Mushrooms, strawberries, pineapple, celery, chicken, carrots…
Everything is cut. Diced. Chopped. Sliced. Peeled.
I blink a few times, my knuckles tightening on the handle. My heart thuds beneath my chest, knowing who did this.
Woof!
I shake my head. “Sorry, boy. I got distracted.” Reaching inside, I grab the container labeled mixed vegetables and add a scoop to Brutus’s bowl, who happily gobbles up every last bite.
Leaning against the counter, I play with the hem of my shirt, twisting it around my finger as my mind tries to decipher what this means.
Some people might look at chopped vegetables and think I’m crazy for thinking it means anything, but it does. I know it does. Those containers prove to me he really will do anything to keep me safe, both mentally and physically, and that thought sends warmth through me.
Gripping the handle to the fridge door, I open it to get one more look at the perfectly stocked shelves. My heart swells, and the corners of my lips curve up.
He did this…for me.
A chill in the air cascades over my shoulders. The thin cotton fabric of my T-shirt does little to protect me from the elements, and I instantly regret not bringing my coat. My eyes scan the sky, noting the ominous presence of threatening grey clouds above, following me, taunting me.
This should only take a minute , I think, as I swing the old, rusty iron gate open and follow the stone path up the hill covered by an abundance of red and yellow leaves. I glance over my shoulder, seeing Eli waiting in the car for me just like I asked him to, and continue moving toward the numerous graves that align this space. Workers, family members, friends… This is where they reside. This is where they are laid to rest. In a private cemetery meant only for the people who were either loved or loyal to the Alarie family.
Which is why I’m here now, seeking out my father’s grave.
Months ago, when I first arrived at the Alarie Estate, Mrs. Alarie informed me that they had brought my father’s remains here. Even though he fled this place seven years ago, clearly displaying a lack of loyalty to the family, they did it believing it would comfort me to know he was here with me.
They did it for me, and I didn’t have the heart to tell them that his presence only terrifies me.
Alive or dead.
I thought I might have a hard time finding his burial place, but the shininess of the new stone and the way the grass hasn’t fully grown through the dirt are clear indicators of who this plot belongs to.
A heaviness weighs down on me with each step I take, a sudden unease sweeping over me the closer I get. Rain slowly descends from the clouds above as my feet come to a stop inches from his grave. “Anthony Balcom. A devoted husband and caring father,” I read out loud, scoffing at this false statement.
Devoted husband? Caring father?
My hands clench by my sides as I pinch my eyes shut. So much anger swirls through me. Anger at myself for thinking that coming here would be a good idea. And anger at the monster buried six feet beneath the ground, who instilled fear and submission into me with just a lift of his hand or the raising of his voice.
My eyes open, blurry with unshed tears.
“Why?” I whisper, years of pent-up frustration scratching at the surface. “Why did you treat me as if I was nothing? As if I held no value to you?” A tear escapes, traveling down my cheek, and falls from the tip of my chin right onto the soil that covers his casket. “My whole life, you made me feel like I did something wrong. Like I was never enough. But I was your daughter! Your only child, and I loved you!” More tears slide down my cheeks, coating my skin. “I loved you even when you hit me and when you lashed out at me with your vicious words. Because I thought… I thought someday you would finally love me back.”
A flashback from one of the nights that tainted my vision of my father appears before me.
“Look at you,” my father sneers, his gaze roaming over me. “Foolish girl, you were out with that Alarie boy again, weren’t you? After I specifically forbade you from doing so.”
My bottom lip trembles, knowing there is no right answer to this question. If I say yes, he’ll be mad. And if I say no, he’ll be furious at me for lying. So, instead, with as much confidence as I can muster, I say, “I don’t understand. Why can’t I see them anymore? They’re my friends, and we live on their property. Besides, I’m almost eighteen, I can—” I should have expected it, but the sting from his hand across my cheek catches me off guard, and I end up biting the inside of my lip.
“You stupid, stupid girl.” He towers over me. “I prayed for a son. One that would make me proud. But instead, I was given a whore.” He spits on the ground in front of me.
I step around him, needing to get out of here. Maybe I can stay the night in Maddy’s room. Although, I don’t know how I’ll be able to hide the red mark on my face, which I’m certain is only getting worse.
Suddenly, I’m pulled back and thrown against the wall. My father’s hands encircle my throat, holding me in place as I try to fight him. Unfortunately, with a lack of oxygen, I give up and become docile beneath his hold.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” he roars in my face.
“Anywhere…from…here,” I gasp out. My vision begins to blur as tiny black dots appear in my periphery. “Let me go!”
He laughs menacingly. “Never. Because someday, you may hold value to me.”
I’m beginning to lose consciousness, my body going limp. He removes his hands from me and lets me crash to the floor, where I gulp for air.
“You are never to go near that boy again, or any of them for that matter, and if I find out you do…” His lips curve up in a sinister smile. “Well, let’s just say I know plenty of ways to kill a man without anyone knowing.”
I drop to my knees, not caring that the ground is damp and muddy. “I hate you!” My breaths come out hard and fast, so much fury building inside me. “And you want to know why?” A bitter laugh escapes me. “It’s not because of your coldness toward me. No.” I shake my head, my wet hair clinging to my face. “It’s because I feel guilty for being relieved that you’re dead.” I roll in my bottom lip. “You’re dead. You can no longer hold any power over me, but somehow, you do, making me hate you even more.” I pick up a red leaf, curling my fingers around it. “But I guess it’s better to feel something than nothing.” I open my fist, letting the leaf float to the ground, and angrily bow my head. “I should thank you because if you hadn’t died or if I hadn’t been…” I clear my throat, shaking my head. “I never would have ended up back where I belong… home , at the Alarie Estate.” I sit back, enjoying the feeling of rain against my skin. “I’m finally home again.”
I even my breathing, focusing on the rush of getting out these words for the first time. He raised me to be his meek daughter who took only what he gave her: pain, fear, and insecurities. Never love. No, definitely not that. And although my dream was someday to say all of these things to his face, I still obtain pleasure knowing I said them above him, with six feet of dirt between us.
I don’t know how much time passes when I feel a familiar presence around me, wrapping his leather jacket over my shoulders.
“You’ll catch a cold.”
I stare up at Leo, feeling a thousand different emotions warring inside me. But the second my eyes latch onto his, calmness overtakes me. He holds his hand out for me, and I take it, letting him pull my body up against his. Safe. It’s what I feel every time I’m beside him. It consumes me in a way I’ve never experienced. It’s like I no longer have to look over my shoulder or sleep with an eye open. Because he’s here.
His fingers tenderly smooth back my wet strands as his other hand slides around my waist, binding me to his chest.
Looking deep into the dark depths of his eyes, I ask, “Does it make me a bad person that I find comfort in my father’s death?”
A muscle ticks in his jaw. “Was he cruel to you, Firefly?”
I nod, unable to voice everything he put me through over the years. Especially after I lost the safety of being on the Alarie Estate.
He wipes the raindrops from my cheeks, the tender touch enough to make my knees buckle. But his arm around my waist only tightens. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“I couldn’t,” I breathe. “When I lived on the estate, he would threaten each of you if I ever told anyone about what he did to me, knowing how much you all meant to me. It was the only leverage he had over me.” A sob escapes, warm tears mixing with cold raindrops. “And when he dragged me away from here, he forbade me to have anything to do with you all. And it killed me. Because every day I wanted to come back here. But I couldn’t risk it. If he hurt your family, it would have been my fault, and I never would have been able to live with myself if something happened to”— you —“any one of you.”
His hand rests on my cheek, causing my eyes to fall shut. “Your father was never a match for the Alaries.”
“I know that now,” I whisper, opening my eyes. “But I was terrified and also so in…” Love . I stop myself, lowering my eyes. I can’t admit that. Not now. And not ever. Leo has made his feelings clear to me, and I must respect that.
He doesn’t want to touch me.
Not anymore.
Not like he once used to.
Once, the lust in his eyes for me used to make me weak in the knees. It made my heart pitter-patter in anticipation whenever I was around him.
Nevertheless, I’ve never seen that look since we’ve been married. Not once. And it’s time to stop expecting more from him when I shouldn’t even want more in the first place. Right?
“I wish he were alive,” he says matter-of-factly. My eyes widen at his admission, abruptly taken aback. “Only so that I could kill him for everything he ever did to you.”
I rest my forehead against his chest. His white T-shirt is practically see-through from how drenched it is, revealing a sea of black ink, more than what was there years ago. On the spot above his heart, a small object catches my eye. It has a variety of colors, but it’s hard to make out what it truly is without his shirt off. I bite my lower lip, the thought sending my heart racing.
“Let’s get you home.” His hands move soothingly up and down my back. “I’ll run a warm bath for you and get a fire going.”
I smile. A warm bath and a cozy fire to cuddle in front of with a book in my hands sounds like a nice way to end this day.
I take a step back, certain that he’ll want to put some space between us, but he closes his hand over mine and leads me down the hill toward his car, Eli’s vehicle long gone.
As we pull into the driveway, the rain unexpectedly stops. I take a step out of the car just as the sun peeks through the clouds, shining over the house.
“We’re home,” Leo says, taking my hand.
I admire the house before me—dark, solid, beautiful—and for the first time, it hits me: This is my home, too.
“We’re home,” I repeat softly, seeing everything a little differently.
But what I don’t voice to Leo is that being with him has always felt like home.