Chapter Twenty-Seven

I didn’t go home. I walked or maybe dragged myself on the two-mile journey to Scarlett’s house. The rain didn’t let up, but it didn’t bother me, either.

Her mother answered the door, her mouth gaping at my appearance. The woman shared the same red hair and blue eyes as Scarlett, but the resemblance ended there.

Her red lips formed a perfect circle as she took me in. “Can I help you?”

“I’m here for the cat. May I have him, please?”

She blinked; recognition flickered in her features. She opened the door, gesturing me inside. “Jason, right?”

“Yes,” I said, looking around for Septimus. My clothes dripped onto the shag carpet and my footprints left deep impressions. I didn’t care. Scarlett loved that cat, and that meant he was mine to protect.

“This is my boyfriend, Frank,” she said.

I hadn’t seen him at the funeral, but then again, I couldn’t see further than my own grief. Good thing too since I probably would have found a shallow grave to drag him into. I’d bury that fucker alive.

My fists clenched. Rage covered the sorrow for just a moment. I had to get this over with fast. I liked the rage too much. I welcomed it.

He was tall with a paunch belly and had a long beard with strands of white running through the brown. My God…he looked like Santa.

Oh, Scarlett.

She’d once told me her nightmares were about monsters and villains and axe murderers and Santa. I’d promised to protect her. Was that in this lifetime or another? I couldn’t remember.

Her mother handed me the cat carrier. She started loading up cat toys, and food, in a plastic bag.

“You don’t have to do that. I can go shopping.”

She waved her hand. “It’s not as if I can use it. I suppose this is good. I’m not exactly an animal person, but I was planning to find a good home for him. How did you know I wasn’t keeping him?”

Because I know you.

I just shrugged in response. “Guessed.”

“I never approved of Scarlett keeping him, but she could be stubborn about things. She always wanted to take care of everyone.”

“I know.” It was the best I could muster. I didn’t want to give this woman anything more. I wasn’t here to commiserate or comfort her.

“Please thank your father for me once more.”

“My father? What for?”

She arched her brow. “He paid for the funeral. He didn’t tell you?”

“No.” I would have been surprised, maybe even pleased by this, but the misery and rage kept any other emotions buried so deep I doubted they would ever resurface.

“Well, please thank him for me. Because of his generosity, we were able to have a lovely service.”

“I will.”

She wiped away a fallen tear. Lady, I hope the tear is one of regret for all the times my girl waited for your affection only for you to disappoint her every single time.

She composed a smile, but it seemed rehearsed. “She told me about you. We spent the whole day together that day she was supposed to leave for Nashville. I’m so glad I had that day.”

Struggling not to shake her for all the days she’d given up, I focused on finding Septimus.

I peered beneath the couch, the uneasy feeling of Frank’s eyes on me. Do not speak to me, fucker. “Any idea where the cat is?”

“I’m sure he’s around here.” She followed me as I searched. “You should dry off. You might get sick. Let me get you a towel.”

“That’s okay.”

“I questioned her sudden change of plans, but she said her heart spoke to her before her brain could digest it. So funny because Scarlett wasn’t an impetuous girl.”

As if she had any idea who Scarlett was. I swallowed back a bitter lump.

Thankfully, the cat jumped into my arms then as if he had been searching for me, too. I petted him before placing him inside the carrier, giving him a silent promise to take care of him. God knew these people wouldn’t.

I would have left, tamping down the fury coursing through every vein. I would have been successful, too, except Frank put his beefy hand on my shoulder. I fought a wave of nausea.

“I’m sorry, man. Scarlett was a really sweet girl. We’ll all miss her.” He made the statement as if she was at fucking summer camp.

The nerve he had to talk about my girl.

“Take your fucking hand off me.” My voice was barely above a whisper, but he flinched, his hand falling away.

“Excuse me?” her mom said. “You need to show some respect in our house.”

I could walk away, but I hated them with every vein in my body. The hate took over. I locked eyes with her. “That missing knife in the butcher block? The long one you haven’t seen for years? I know where it is.”

She took a step back, but my words hit home. “Where?”

“Under Scarlett’s mattress.”

She blinked her eyes. I saw her face transform to fear then shock. Good, she was scared of me. “You know why it’s there, don’t you? Why she wanted to have some protection in her own house? Why she didn’t feel safe? C’mon, Janice, you know exactly why. Say it. Fucking admit it.”

“Shut up!”

I turned to Frank. “You know why, don’t you, Frankie?”

He held his hands up in surrender, but I caught the flicker of panic in his eyes. “Ease up, guy. This is hard for all of us. We all miss her.”

The cat hissed. It’s okay, boy, I got this. I set the carrier and supplies down. Frank opened his mouth to say something else, but I clutched his shirt, pulling him so fast he almost tripped. Scarlett’s mom gasped, and Frank’s face registered fear.

“I know what you did, you fucking bastard,” I spoke low and slowly. I didn’t want him to miss a word. “Every time you spent the night here, you waited till her mom was asleep and then you sneaked into her room. She was only thirteen. I don’t know the details, but I’ve imagined the fucked-up shit you did to her during those months. So fucked up she had to hide a knife under her bed just in case. It kills me what you put her through, you disgusting piece of shit.” I shook him until the seam of his shirt began ripping. “But even more than that, it makes me want to kill you. If you utter her name again it will be…Your. Last. Fucking. Word.”

“Stop,” her mom yelled. “Let go of him.”

I let Frank go as if he were a rag doll. I spun to her, my wrath for her even stronger. I pointed an accusatory finger. “And you. You took his side. You let her suffer and for what? For this fucking pedophile? I have no idea how my girl possessed the strength to forgive you, but she did. I’m not as good as her. I don’t forgive you. I hope you both rot for your sins. In this life and any other.”

Her mom backed away, her mouth gaping, her shoulders tensed. “Listen, I don’t know what Scarlett told you, but she was young and confused and─”

“Shut up. She didn’t have to tell me. How could you do that to her? You are the one person who is supposed to be on her side no matter what.” I grabbed Frank’s shirt, shaking him. “Why did you choose this depraved fuck over your own daughter? You—”

His voice cut through, interrupting me. “Hey, you can’t talk to us like that. You only knew Scarlett for a few days. She could be manipulative.”

Oh, Frank, you fucker. Didn’t I warn you about saying her name?

This time, I bypassed his shirt and went straight for his neck, almost as if my arm acted on its own. My left hand squeezed his jugular with everything I had. He clasped my wrists, trying to pry my hand away, but my grip wouldn’t yield. I stared into his eyes, hoping he’d see my face in all his nightmares…just as Scarlett saw his.

“Stop it. You’re going to kill him,” her mom yelled, but it was the other voice I heard, distant and faint and unmistakable.

Don’t do this, Flynn. You’re better than this.

Scarlett would not want this. Not this way.

Okay, baby, I’ll do it for you, but only you.

I released him, tossing him onto the same couch where I once painted her fingers. He crashed into it, gasping for air, clutching his neck now imprinted with my handprint.

Her mom ran to him, checking his pulse before turning her face toward me. “Are you crazy?”

“Maybe.”

“Get out.”

Gladly.