Chapter 6
SEATON
Later on, she'd wonder why she went outside, but when she heard Daryl screaming her name, she went out to stop him because her neighbors didn't need to hear him.
She didn't want to hear him either, but Daryl had been her mistake.
His metallic black Jaguar was idling at the curb in front of her rented house, and he was standing on the sidewalk, the heels of his custom-made shoes, precariously over the edge of the curb.
"Damnit, Seaton! Get your ass out here!"
She looked across the yard at her own porch and saw what Daryl was looking at.
Her front porch light was on because she knew she'd have to get back home after dinner and the flashlight on her phone wasn't enough.
She'd also left the light over the stove on to use as a night light when she returned home.
So to Daryl, it probably looked like she was home.
Sam hadn't left his porch light on, so they were standing there in the dark.
"Seaton! You need to stop hiding from me!'
Her heart broke knowing that her past was on full display in front of Sam and his friends.
She heard Sam behind her. "I'm calling the police."
It was nice that he was doing this, but she knew it would take time for them to come out.
Daryl wasn't violent. He was just angry. Normally, when they were together, he would pull her in tight so she could feel his breath on her face and he’d tell her in slow, deliberate words just how much she disappointed him.
She knew how the police would view his appearance.
He was affluent.
Well put together.
He could charm the pants off of pretty much everyone.
If the police came, he’d say something to smooth it over.
She sighed and shook her head.
"I should talk to him."
Seaton started toward the steps, but she felt a hand on her arm.
"Don't, Seaton." It was Zharia’s voice.
"Yeah." Lincoln moved until he was nearly in front of her. "Seaton, wait."
"He's making noise," she insisted, "So many of our neighbors are elderly. They're trying to sleep."
As soon as she stepped off of the porch, she heard Sam curse under his breath.
"Take this, Abe."
Sam caught up to her halfway to the sidewalk.
His arm bumped up against hers, but he didn't put his hands on her.
Something she was thankful for.
Seaton was still riding the current of emotions from Zharia's story and now she had to deal with Daryl, the man she'd worked so hard to leave behind.
If Sam touched her, she had a feeling that she would’ve broken down into tears.
She could handle pain and derision from people.
Softness? Support?
Those just might break her into pieces.
Sam fell into step with her and she kept walking.
Daryl hadn't seen her yet, but she could see that he was seething.
As soon as he started back around the car, heading for the driver's seat he saw her.
He stopped like he'd hit a wall of solid air, almost bouncing back before he swung around and nailed her with a look.
"Where the fuck did you come from?"
If she had to guess, he’d been drinking. Yelling like he was, wasn’t what he did.
She held up her hands, physically pleading with him. "Daryl, please. Most of my neighbors are elderly. Please don't make a scene."
"A scene?"
She sagged a little, her energy dropping.
"We're almost divorced, Daryl. I don't want to see you."
"Well, I want to know when you're going to tuck tail and come back home. Have you finished acting up yet?"
She shook her head, almost imperceptibly.
The less movement she made around Daryl, the better.
"This isn't temporary. We're over."
"The fuck we are!"
He took a few steps toward her and Seaton tensed up for an impact, but she ended up staggering back behind Sam.
He'd stepped in front of her.
"Sam-"
"Who the fuck are you?"
She felt the impact when Sam was pushed against her.
Seaton grabbed the back of Sam's shirt and tried to pull him away, but he wasn't budging.
"Sir, you need to calm do-"
Seaton staggered back as Sam's weight bumped into her.
"My friend is on the phone with the police. We'll have a deputy here in minutes."
Seaton started around Sam's side, but he used his arm to hold her back.
For a moment, she considered kicking him to get his attention and to get him out of the way.
"Seaton, who is this asshole?"
"Daryl, stop!"
She wanted to dissolve into the sidewalk.
"Are you fucking him?"
She wanted to disappear.
Poof!
Zap!
Gone!
But she was still there and so was Daryl.
"Daryl, we're divorced-"
"Almost! It’s not a done deal, yet. And you’re already fucking around?"
"Daryl, no. He's my neighbor-"
"Caddo? The deputies are coming!"
Seaton turned to see Lincoln heading in their direction.
Relief flooded her veins as she turned back around.
"Daryl, please. Just go. We have nothing to do with each other anymore."
"The fuck we don't, Seaton. I let you have your tantrum. Now it's time to come home."
Seaton tried to move around Sam again, but he held her back.
Frustrated, she wanted to stomp her feet, but she wouldn't want to prove Daryl right in any way.
"Sam," she leaned against his back, rising up on the toes of her sandals, "please let me talk to him."
She felt him hesitate.
There was a physical tremor in his body, but she knew the moment he made the decision to let her move past him.
She felt him exhale and saw him turn his head toward her.
"I'm not leaving you alone with him."
Seaton nodded. "Thanks. I know and I'm grateful, but I don't want this to escalate."
"That's what I'm worried about."
She heard his words and squared her shoulders.
Sam took a step to the side to let her pass, but he didn't move any further away.
She'd thank him later for the support, but she didn't want to antagonize Daryl. He sounded like he'd already worked himself up.
When she was closer to him, she could smell whiskey like it was coming out of his pores.
Great. When he was sober, he was mean. That was enough to make her worried.
But drunk? She could only remember one time and it wasn’t pretty. It was explosive. Like a tornado spinning around her. At least he’d kept from hurting her.
"Daryl," she knew how to lower her tone, but she had no idea how he'd take it. He probably didn't either.
There was no guarantee with him.
And she was exhausted.
Of him.
"Daryl," she spoke again and he turned his head toward her and away from Sam, "please. Go home."
"Go home?" His voice was biting. "I got home tonight and there was nothing ready for dinner."
She held back the words she wanted to say. They'd been separated for more than three months.
"Things have changed for both of us, Daryl. I'm not going to be there to cook for you now. We're not together anymore."
She wanted to say she was proud of herself for putting her words together in what she hoped was a clear and concise way to get through the frustration he was feeling.
She wanted to tell him that before they'd separated, he'd always complained about the food she cooked. It was too salty. Too bland. It was too hot. Too cold to eat. The wrong flavors.
Now, he was mad that food wasn't ready for him to eat at home.
The hypocrisy was enough to make her head hurt, but she was trying to keep calm.
She didn't want Sam and his friends to see how messed up her life was.
People didn't want a walking disaster as their friend.
"You know why we're not together, Seaton? Because I'd like to know!"
Again, she wanted to remind him of the reasons, but that seemed like waving a red flag in front of him. He was as stubborn as a bull and as hard to reason with as a wild animal.
"It's late, Daryl. People are trying to sleep. Please, this isn't the time to talk about this-"
"This isn't the time to talk?"
She realized that she'd crossed one of his invisible lines by the tone of his voice and the hard look in his eyes.
Seaton gestured at the street and the dark houses surrounding them. "There are elderly people-"
"The fuck do I care, Seaton!"
Daryl stepped into her with his hand raised, and she stood there staring.
He'd used his height and size to intimidate her before.
But physical beatings had only been threatened.
Seaton sucked in a breath and braced herself.
But the expected blow didn't land.
She looked up through narrowly opened eyes and saw that Sam had a death grip on Daryl's wrist.
Daryl's arm might be thicker than Sam’s, but he didn't have the same strength.
Seaton felt a hand on her shoulder and heard Lincoln's voice at her side. "Step back, Seaton."
She tried to pull away. "He might hurt Sam."
"Sam can hold his own, but he might be distracted worrying about you."
Seaton knew that Lincoln was right.
Earlier, he'd bumped into her when Daryl had pushed forward.
If he had to worry about hurting her, Sam might not be worrying about himself.
Seaton knew she had to step away, but she also knew that meant leaning on Sam for help.
She didn't want anyone else to hurt because of her.
Maybe after this, it was better to go their separate ways.
CADDO
The man in front of him had that look.
He'd seen it at accident scenes and fires.
It was the look of someone who felt like they were the most important person in the room.
It didn't matter who was in greater need, it was their pain or their interests that deserved to be dealt with first.
Daryl, Seaton's ex, was concerned about himself.
He knew that she was afraid of her ex.
She didn't know the story behind them, but he knew enough to surmise that she wanted him and their relationship to be behind her.
Seaton had been opening up all day, but as soon as she knew that her ex was out on the street, screaming for her, she'd changed.
She'd grown smaller and smaller in front of him and while she wanted to talk to her ex alone, Sam couldn't leave her alone with him.
It had only taken a few comments for Daryl to take a swing at her.
That's when he'd stepped in.
Daryl was broader in the shoulders than himself. He also had the advantage of weight, but Sam could handle himself.
The problem was that he was worried about Seaton getting in the way and being hurt.