Chapter Seven
Theodore
Another day closer to the end. I make an X on my calendar, and then I stare at the photos and news clippings.
Scarlet.
There is a reason I didn’t ask her name. It doesn’t matter. She doesn’t matter. I don’t want to see her. Hear her. Smell her. How could Nolan be such an asshole to let her move in after everything I’ve done for him?
What is her purpose anyway? All she does is go to the crazy guy’s house for breakfast, take long walks on the beach, lounge on the deck reading books, pray the world’s longest prayer with her nonexistent ass perched on a pillow, eyes closed.
It’s probably some meditation shit. But it’s the things she says that drives me to want to kill something or someone—stupid fucking shit that makes no sense.
“Sorry, there’s a queue.” What the fuck does that mean?
Wash. Rinse. Repeat.
No job. No real purpose except to piss me off. I should snap her twig body in two and send her to the bottom of the ocean. Clearly she has no one. No one to miss her. No one to suspect anything.
“What the fuck are you thinking?” I mumble, pressing my palms to my forehead. I don’t want to hate her. The truth is I don’t want to have any emotion toward her at all. Emotion is a luxury I gave up years ago. I exist for one purpose and one purpose only: revenge.
There’s a knock at my bedroom door. Great. Can’t she leave me the hell alone? I open the door with enough anger to make the hinges scream in protest. One of her fucking plants is on the ground with a note attached to it.
Theo –
Peace Lilies are one of the few houseplants that bloom.
I ordered three. This one is the best. I named her Phoebe.
She will remove VOCs, benzene, and formaldehyde from the air.
She doesn’t need that much light, but she loves water.
Phoebe is my peace offering to you. Don’t eat her leaves, they are poisonous.
There’s still juice downstairs. Help yourself. What’s mine is yours. “Things” don’t really matter to me. I’m only here for now.
~Scarlet Stone
I tear up the note and slap the pieces onto my dresser, then I grab the plant and deposit it in front of her bedroom door at the opposite end of the hall.
Big brown eyes greet me as I turn. They shift from me to the plant.
She doesn’t say anything, only nods once, lips set in a firm line.
I open my mouth to tell her why I don’t want the stupid peace offering, but I clamp it shut, choosing to not say anything while walking back to my room to get ready for work.
She’s already wasted half of my morning.