The closer we got to the election, the busier Wes was, and he’s barely been home this week. Logan and Owen came over to pass out candy yesterday so I could take Jackson trick-or-treating. Wes made it home in time to do the last two blocks with him, and we pigged out on candy as soon as we got back to the house.
“Things have been busy at home.”
“You call it home now?” Heather’s sporting a fresh cut on her lip and has more bruises on her cheek and arms.
“What the hell is this?” I reach forward and push up the sleeve of her shirt.
“Nothing.” She smirks. “You should see the other guy.”
“This isn’t funny, Heather. I want you out of here.” I close my eyes and let out a breath. There’s no point in arguing with her. I don’t know what it’s like to be in her shoes. My knowledge of how prison is run is limited to what I’ve seen on Orange is the New Black.
“Home?” she questions again.
“It feels like home,” I admit. And it does. Everything I own is there. It’s filled with people I care a lot about. I’m sleeping in Wes’s room every night, even when he’s working nights.
“You look different.” Heather eyes me up and down.
“How?” I ask, looking around the visitation room. That one annoying woman isn’t here, thankfully. She listened in on my conversations with my sister and just gave off a bad vibe.
“You’re not wearing black, for one.”
I look down at my wine-colored sweater. “I don’t always wear black.”
“Nine times out of ten, you do.” Heather shrugs. “But it works for you.”
“It’s the color of my soul. What can I say?”
“Sure. Keep telling yourself that, sis.” She shakes her head. “It’s almost like you’re glowing. You had sex, didn’t you?”
“Maybe.”
“With your boss?”
“He’s my boyfriend now.” A smile takes over my face.
“Seriously?”
“Yeah.” I lean back, heart swelling in my chest. “He’s…he’s amazing.”
“You’re so in love with him.”
“He’s a good guy.”
“Who you love,” Heather presses.
“I care a lot about him.”
“Oh my God, Scar, just say it.”
“I don’t want to jinx anything,” I admit. “Because I’m happy. Things are finally going right in my life, and I’m terrified they’re going to crash and burn. That tends to happen to me, you know.”
“Because you’re usually the one causing the crash. And then pouring gasoline on the fire. I love the shit out of you, big sis, but you’re a bit self-destructive at times.”
“I know,” I admit with a sigh. “I’d rather end things on my terms…do whatever I can to stay in control.” Shaking my head, I lean back. “Is it crazy to think things can work out for me?”
“No, not at all.” She puts her hand on mine. “You deserve to be happy, Scar. I’ve had a lot of time to think in here—shocking, I know—and I realized how much you gave up for us. You dropped out of school, and you fucking loved school. You were such a nerd.”
“Yeah,” I say with a smile. “I was. I still am.”
“And everything you did to take care of Mom and me and Jason…it was a lot to put on you. No one asked you to do any of that. You just did it. And then you did it again when Dad got sick.”
“It had to be done.”
“Yeah, and you never once complained. You’ve always taken care of us. Now someone is taking care of you. And I don’t mean just financially.”
I wiggle my eyebrows. “You mean sexually?”
Heather laughs. “That’s not what I meant, but it’s good to know he’s adequate in all aspects.”
“Very adequate.” My heart skips a beat, and warmth floods through my veins at the thought of Wes.
“I want you to be happy. You deserve it, Scar, so much.”
“Thanks. I…I don’t feel like I do,” I admit. “I’ve been thinking a lot too, and I want to do better. Wes makes me want to be a better person.”
“And you say you don’t love him.”
“I didn’t say that I didn’t love him.”
An inmate a few tables over stands up, yelling at her baby daddy. Heather and I turn, distracted by the drama.
“That’s Jasmine,” Heather whispers. “She’s not sure if he’s really her baby’s father or not. It might be his cousin.”
“Damn. And you say jail time is boring. It’s like a real-life soap opera.”
“Oh, I could write a sitcom with all the shit I’ve seen and heard. Half of which no one would even believe. Like the chick a few cells down from me.” Heather shakes her head. “She had a cell phone up her snatch for over a week.”
“Ew. And ouch. But mostly…how?”
Heather slowly shakes her head. “No clue. But can you imagine the smell? And rumor has it, it was an iPhone.”
I shudder. “I have all sorts of questions, but I don’t think I even want to know.”
“I’ve learned not asking is the way to go.”
I lean back in the uncomfortable chair. “I talked to Jason yesterday.”
Heather’s eye light up. “How is he? Is he coming home anytime soon?”
“He said he’s doing good, and he sounded like it. I think he’s a little homesick and he’s hoping to be able to come home in January.”
“If he does, please bring him to see me! I miss that little twerp.”
“I don’t think he’s a twerp anymore.”
Heather laughs, wiping her eyes. Unlike me, she’s emotional. Cries during commercials and during certain songs no matter how many times she’s heard them.
“And I will.”
“What else did he say?”
A few more visitors shuffle in and the room gets louder. I fill Heather in on everything Jason told me, which isn’t much.
“I should get going,” I tell Heather, feeling bad. “It’s a long drive back to Eastwood.” I go to stand, and Heather reaches forward, taking my necklace between her fingers.
“You’re wearing a cat charm?”
“Oh, yeah. I almost forgot. It’s a joke.”
“A joke?”
“Wes’s sister, Quinn, is kind of a crazy cat lady, and their mom is very much a dog person. Their house is more divided than Bears and Packers fans living under the same roof.”
“So you’ve sided with Team Cat.”
“I do like cats.”
Heather laughs and stands with me, giving me a hug before I leave. I spot that one annoying eavesdropper on my way out. I wouldn’t think much of it, but she won’t stop looking at me. I put on my coat and glance her way.
She’s not just staring at me. She’s glaring, seething with hatred.
Chapter Thirty
Weston
“You’re officially a heartbreaker, Weston.” Scarlet turns away from the stove, setting down a wooden spoon. I just got home from work and the house smells amazing.