“Her infatuated fan took Angela’s disinterest as a personal affront to his fragile ego. He couldn’t comprehend how little she thought of him when he was so deeply consumed by her. So, he began to stalk her, certain her affections laid somewhere else. He followed Scarlett and her everywhere they went. That’s when Angela became fearful for her life and told me what was going on. I was making preparations for them to come back to Asheville—even buying them a home to feel safe and at peace—when the unthinkable happened. One night, he broke into their home and torched it. Scarlett barely got out with her life. Angela wasn’t as fortunate.”
My chest feels as if it’s about to collapse, imagining a frightened Scarlett in a blaze of fire.
“To this day, my poor goddaughter blames herself for not being able to rescue her mother. But she tried. God, how Scarlett tried. Even at the young age of thirteen, she had so much fight in her. But in the end, there was nothing she could do. That monster stole Angela from both of us that night.”
“Did the cops ever get him?”
Owen turns his attention back to me, pure hatred bleeding out from his pores.
“He died in the fire with Angela. His face was the last thing she saw.”
Even with the ongoing fire beside us, I feel the chill of his words bite into my skin.
“I’m sorry.”
“I don’t need your condolences, Easton,” he scoffs. “I need your word that Scarlett is safe in your hands. If not, then you’re the one who needs to back the fuck off. Am I making myself clear?” he quips, throwing my own words back in my face.
“Crystal.”
“Then I guess there isn’t anything left for us to say to one another. Although, I do require your discretion with everything I just shared with you. Neither Colt nor Scarlett needs to know we had this little talk.”
This isn’t how I expected this conversation to go down, but it was definitely enlightening. Seeing as I don’t have anything to say, I get up from my seat, ready to leave. However, as I’m about to make my exit, Owen levels me with his parting words.
“Remember, Easton. There are monsters everywhere. Be careful not to cross the ones who haven’t made themselves known to you yet.”
The next day I plant myself outside Scarlett’s class, counting the minutes until it ends. When she comes out and sees me standing there, she walks past me, head held high, not even giving me a second glance.
That won’t do.
“I need to talk to you.” I rush behind her, trying to keep up with her hurried steps.
“Oh, now you want to talk?” she snaps. “Too bad, because I’m not in a listening mood.”
“Scarlett, just hear me out.”
“No. You acted like a total asshole the other night.”
“I am an asshole twenty-four seven. You know that already.” I try to joke, but that only seems to piss her off more.
“Don’t act cute with me, Easton. You really hurt my feelings.”
Shit.
I lightly grab her by the arm, but she pulls away, not wanting me to touch her.
Double shit.
“Scar, please. Just hear me out. Five minutes. That’s all I ask.”
She stops mid-step but refuses to look at me. We can’t have this conversation in a crowded hallway. Not if I want her full attention. I grab her by the hand and lead her to an empty classroom before she has time to think about it.
“You have got to be kidding me!” she yells, once I lock the door behind me. “Let me out of here, Easton, or I swear I’ll scream!”
“Do it!” I dare her, pinning her trembling body against the wall. “Scream, Scar. Yell at me. Slap me if you want to, but you’re not leaving this room until you hear me out.”
“Why are you doing this?” she mumbles, suddenly deflated, looking down at her feet. “Just let me go.”
I gently pick her chin up, her big, brown eyes barely hidden under her framed glasses.
“I don’t think I can, Scar,” I answer, confessing what I know in my heart to be true.
She turns her head away from me, but not fast enough that I don’t read all the questions in her eyes. Questions that I have no answers to. Except for one.
“I’m sorry I was a jealous idiot the other night. I was drunk and wrapped up in my own shit, and when I saw you together with Owen like that, I just lost it. I know it’s no excuse, but it’s the only explanation I can offer you, Scar. That, and the promise that I won’t do it again. I’m sorry.”
“Is that what you were? Jealous?” she scoffs disbelievingly.
“Fuck, yes. Jealous that someone else had a part of you. I didn’t like it.”
“You made that abundantly clear.”
“I’m sorry,” I repeat, gently caressing her cheek with my knuckles, but the way she refuses to look at me guts me more than any accusing word she could throw.
“Owen is just a family friend. You should have asked me about him instead of jumping to your own conclusions.”
It’s the way she says his name so lovingly that sets my soul ablaze. But this time, I control it, knowing that if I don’t, I’ll lose Scar sooner than I’ll have to.
“I hate the way you say his name,” I admit, leaning my temple to hers.
“Why?”
“You say it with reverence. I don’t like it.”
“There are plenty of things that I don’t like. You acting unhinged, for one,” she replies with a nervous laugh at the end.
“Can you blame me? I don’t share well, Scar. And fuck if I’ll ever share you.”
We let the weight of those words linger in the air between us.
“He’s been good to me, East,” she finally whispers after a pregnant pause. “If you can’t handle that, then maybe we should just e—” I hold my index finger to her mouth, stopping those awful words from spilling out.
“It’s like that, huh?” I ask, trying to sound cavalier, but we both hear the sadness in my voice. “You’d rather have him in your life than me?”
“I’d rather have people in my life that show me respect.”
“And I don’t?”
“You don’t have the best track record with me, Easton,” she laments, splitting my heart in two.
“I respect you, Scarlett.”
“If that’s true, then you will respect my choices. That includes the people I choose to be a part of my life.”
“Am I one of those people?” I ask, rubbing my thumb on her lush lower lip.
“East—”
“Just tell me, Scar. Would you fight for me as hard as you just fought for your friend?”
“It’s different.”
“Why?”
“Because he can’t hurt me. You can.”
Jesus, you’re killing me here, Scar.
“Sometimes, pain can feel good, too.”