Chapter Thirty-Three

Scarlett

After my first full week at my new job, I was feeling worn out. I hadn’t worked full-time in a while and I had forgotten how taxing it could be. I opened the door to my empty house and felt the loneliness. All week, I had been alone. It was weird with Cameron gone. I missed seeing him coming and going, and, of course, I missed our little sleepovers.

I roamed through the house, picking up stray dishes and tidying up as I went. My bedroom looked like a bomb had gone off. It definitely needed some attention. My eyes drifted to the closed bedroom door across the hall.

I opened it and stared at the pink and purple blast of color and realized I missed Ella as well. Cameron’s text yesterday had tempted me, but I wasn’t going to set myself up to get hurt. Not again. I wondered if the DNA test results had come in. Maybe they had hauled Isaac off to jail. When I’d read his texts yesterday, I had assumed he wanted to gloat in person about been right. He was probably going to tell me we could be together now that he’d locked Isaac up. Too bad, you big jerk.

I was still angry and smarting and not quite ready to talk to him. I walked into the kitchen and quickly loaded the dishes. I didn’t want to be in the house. It was too quiet.

I reached for my phone, scrolled through the contacts, and waited.

“Mom?” I said when she answered.

“Yes, Scarlett,” she said with a smile in her voice.

“Can I come home for the weekend?”

“Of course! You know you never have to ask. Don’t be so silly. Get your butt home. We’d love to see you!”

I smiled and told her I was on my way. I couldn’t be in the empty house. I would go out of my mind wondering what Cameron and Ella were doing and whether Ella was comfortable at her grandparents’ house. Of course she would be. Just because I had made a room for her didn’t make my house any better.

I started the dishwasher, packed a bag, and headed out the door, making double sure it was locked tight. If Isaac was out there, I didn’t want him messing up my place again. If he destroyed Ella’s things, it would kill me. A sudden dawning hit me. Ella wasn’t even my daughter and I couldn’t imagine what I would do if Isaac tore up her bed or destroyed her pretty dresses. That gave me a small glimpse into Cameron’s world and what he was probably feeling.

It lessened my anger and hurt, but it still lingered. As I drove, my thoughts, no matter how hard I tried to stop them, drifted to Cameron. It was either his smile, his smoldering good looks, or the way he could strum my body and give me the most powerful orgasms of my life.

“Stop!” I ordered myself as I pulled up to the gate at my parents’ home.

I punched in the code and drove toward my reserved space in the six-car garage. I walked into the house, inhaling the smell of fresh-baked bread, and smiled.

“Mom? Dad?” I called out.

“Den!” I heard my dad’s deep voice boom, echoing off the tall ceilings in the hall.

I found him reclining on his leather sofa, a book in his hands and a glass of wine on the table beside him.

I smiled at the scene. “You look comfortable,” I teased.

“I am very comfortable. It’s good to see you.”

“Where’s Mom?”

“Follow your nose.”

My eyebrows shot up. “She’s baking?” I asked with a combination of alarm and surprise.

He laughed. “Sure. We’ll call it that.”

“It smells so good, though.”

“Yeast in water always smells good. That doesn’t mean it’ll actually turn into something good.” He winked.

I nodded. “Gotcha’. Wish me luck.” I headed off for the kitchen, a little nervous about what I might find.

When I walked into the huge kitchen space, my gaze landed on a bowl of bubbly goo. My mom turned to look at me, and I burst into laughter. There was flour smeared across one cheek, and she looked frazzled.

“Hi, Mom,” I said, noting another bowl of dough on the opposite counter.

“Oh, you’re here. I was hoping to have some fresh bread to serve you. I don’t think that’s going to happen.” She smiled.

“You tried, and I appreciate that. It smells good, though,” I said, trying not to laugh.

“Thanks. I don’t know why I tried. I wasn’t born with the cooking gene. It’s time to admit defeat before I burn down this beautiful kitchen.” She poured a glass of wine for me and then her own.

“Thank you,” I said, taking a drink.

“What’s going on?” My mother always had been intuitive.

I sighed. “I don’t even know where to begin.”

“At the beginning, dear. Always at the beginning.”

We moved into what she called her room, which was a smaller living room outfitted in baby blues and lots of white. A couch covered with pillows and two wingback chairs were situated over a fluffy bright white rug.

I sat on the couch and told her my tale of woe.

“I’m sorry, hon. I really am. It was certainly not the way to repay you for your kindness. Shame on him,” she said in a soothing tone. “However,” she started, and I cringed.

I knew she was going to be reasonable. I wasn’t in the mood for reasonable. I wanted to be pitied.

“What?” I pouted.

“I think you need to give him the chance to explain. Obviously, he wants to talk to you. Maybe he realized he was a little hasty and wants to apologize,” she suggested.

“Too late. The damage is done,” I said firmly.

She smiled. “You just admitted how you felt at the mere thought of Isaac damaging the things you bought for Ella. He’s being a good daddy. You have to respect that. It is an admirable quality.”

“I do, and I think it’s cute and I am glad he takes such good care of her, but he’s acting like I’m the Wicked Witch of the West!”

My mother laughed. “You don’t think you’re being a little dramatic? To be honest, it seems a little premature for you to live together as a family. You’ve only known each other a couple weeks. It may be for the best he stays with his parents. Date, have fun, and get to know each other before you start shacking up,” she said bluntly.

“Mom!”

She laughed. “Oh, please, like that’s not what it is.”

We drank a whole bottle of wine, laughing and giggling over silly things. I always felt better after a little one-on-one with my mom. She was better than any counselor.

“I’m going to bed,” I said with a yawn. “This week has worn me out.”

My mom laughed. “You’re a full-time working adult. Get used to those long days when you get home and are too tired to lift a finger.”

“I like it. It’s not so hard. I need to find my groove and it’ll be fine.”

I headed for bed, checking my phone and seeing Hannah had texted. I texted her back, setting up dinner and a night out tomorrow. She had asked if I was sure I wanted to go out to the local bars, concerned I would run into Isaac. I was sure. Isaac didn’t scare me nearly as badly as he used to. Of course, it could have been the wine that made me feel braver than I actually was.

The next night at dinner, I told Hannah about everything that had happened. I had told her about the fire that had destroyed Cameron’s house but not the part about him being convinced it was Isaac and I was the root of all his problems.

“Don’t hate me,” she started, and I knew I was going to hate her.

“Don’t you dare take his side!” I hissed over the table.

She smiled. “I’m on your side, which is why I think you need to talk to him. You have feelings for him—that’s plain to see. You’re hurting yourself by ignoring him. He probably wants to explain or make it right.”

I groaned. “Now you sound like my mom.”

She laughed. “Your mom is a smart lady. I would take her advice, which happens to be mine as well.”

“I’ll think about it,” I said.

“Good. Now let’s go dancing! I’m single and ready to mingle!”

“Oh god, please never say that again.”

She giggled, and we walked across the street and entered one of our old haunts. I smiled and waved to people I hadn’t seen for a while, making small talk here and there. Hannah was having a great time, dancing with any guy who asked her.

I wasn’t feeling quite as excited about flirting with other men and stuck to our little table. My mind was on Cameron. Every man I saw in the bar paled in comparison to him.

“Don’t look now, but there is trouble at three o’clock,” Hannah said, leaning over to talk in my ear.

I, of course, looked and felt that familiar fracture of fear. I was out. I immediately felt guilty and started to think up an excuse to explain my behavior. Then, as if I had been smacked in the face, I remembered I didn’t have to explain myself to him ever again.

In fact, Isaac had some explaining to do. I stood up, and Hannah grabbed my arm.

“What are you doing?” she asked in surprise.

“I want to ask him if he did it.”

“You do?”

I nodded. “Yep.”

She grinned. “All right then. Let’s do this. I’ve got your back.”

I chuckled at the thought of my small friend protecting anything, but then again, I wouldn’t have put it past her to fight dirty if it came to that. Isaac saw us coming and made a beeline for the front door, a petite woman with blond hair dragging along behind him.

I followed him out. He was guilty, and I wanted him to look me in the eye when I asked him directly about his involvement in the fire.

“Isaac,” I blurted out when I was a couple feet away from him.

“What the hell do you want? Don’t you dare think about trying to set me up!”

“I’m not setting you up. Did you do it?” I asked.

“Do what? What are you accusing me of now?”

“Is this her?” the small blonde said, sneering at me. “You’re the one who got a restraining order against him?”

I looked at her, saw she was a version of me, and shook my head. “You should probably get away from this man while you still can. He isn’t stable.”

“Don’t talk to her,” Isaac hissed. “Did I do what?”

“Did you burn down Cameron’s house?”

“You mean your fiancé’s?” he said, his face twisted in an ugly sneer.

“Yes.”

“When would I have done that, Scarlett?”

“Last Saturday night.”

“He was with me!” the woman exclaimed, clearly happy about the fact.

“Sure he was,” Hannah said, glaring at the woman.

“I was. I didn’t start any fires. The cops have already asked me about this shit. I didn’t do anything,” he said, an evil smile on his face. “I sure do feel bad about it, though. That’s a tough break. Is he living with you now?”

“Let’s go,” Hannah said, grabbing my arm and pulling me away from him.

“They’re going to find out if you’re lying,” I called back over my shoulder. “Get away from him,” I said to the girl. “He is going to make your life hell.”

Hannah walked me back inside the bar. I was a little shaken after the confrontation, but I also felt powerful. I had looked him in the eye and not backed down. It felt good to stand up to him.

“Do you believe him?” Hannah asked.

I shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t know. I’m sure the police will find out if he did it.”

“Good job back there,” she said, giving me a small hug. “I know that was probably tough, but you kicked ass.”

I laughed. “I didn’t exactly do anything.”

She shook her head. “Yes, you did. You let him know you’re not afraid of him and he doesn’t have power over you.”

I took a deep breath and prayed he didn’t try to find a way to regain control.