by Heidi McVay
At those words, Scarlett scoffed. “You’re kidding.”
Instantly, his eyes flared. That steely gaze that was so like his mother’s had always betrayed him. Even when his face seemed to be carved of stone, he was always given away by his eyes. And at that moment, she saw something she never expected. Genuine pain. He was in pain. And it wasn’t just grief or stress, or exhaustion. What she saw there went far beyond one day. He swallowed hard and averted his gaze, his voice low and threaded with defeat. “I guess I hoped when Mom suggested I call you, that meant you were ready to talk. I’m sorry.”
Scarlett’s heart stopped beating, and her chest tightened in that way she knew so well but hadn’t felt since the first days after he’d walked out of her apartment. It was so familiar, so heartbreaking, that she’d almost forgotten just how acute the pain could be. “Your mother gave you my number?” She didn’t recognize the coldness in her own voice.
“I’ve had your number since you changed it, Scar.” He answered her without preamble, gazing at her steadily once more. “I just never used it. I wanted to. Every goddamn day.” The emotion in his voice at the end of his words almost made her resolve falter. Scarlett narrowed her eyes on him, and once more, her belly did a little flop when he continued. “I’ve regretted walking away every minute, of every hour since that night, Scar. Believe that, if you believe nothing else.”
Tears stung at her eyes, and she reached for her untouched beer, lifting it to her lips and draining half the contents in several long gulps. When she lowered it, she drew in a slow breath, fortifying herself, grappling against the walls that had started to strain beneath the weight of his words, of the sincerity in his voice that she wanted so badly to believe was real.
Anger followed in a flash. How dare he sit here and try to appeal to her emotions now that it was convenient for him when he no longer had to worry about appeasing his dead, dumbass of a wife? He’d had a year since he’d filed for divorce to try to talk. There’d been nothing but silence. He had an agenda. There had to be something he wanted, and it wasn’t her friendship.
Scarlett reached for her plate and shook her head, fighting to keep her emotions in check, but no longer able to keep the venom from her voice as she rose from her seat. “You know, you nearly had me. Good job. You’re a better actor than I ever gave you credit for.” With those words, she headed for the sink, leaving him to stare after her, his mouth dropped open in shock at her words.
As she rinsed her plate and ran the disposal, she heard his chair scrape across the floor and his bare feet slapping on the hardwood floor as he walked toward her. “You’re breaking the rules, Scarlett.” The use of her full name, of the anger that finally seeped into his voice as he came to stand beside her was startling. Zarek tossed his plate onto the counter with a loud clatter. “We don’t fight with low blows. We agreed that-”
“No. We didn’t fight with low blows. Those rules were made by a couple of dumbass kids who thought the world was never going to get the better of them. We made those rules up so we could protect something precious. But now, there’s nothing to protect. There’s nothing precious anymore, Zarek. So I’m not going to be bound by those fucking rules anymore. I’m going to say what I think, exactly as I think it, and you just have to deal with it.” She didn’t pull any punches now, as she once might have.
He watched as she lifted his plate without thinking and reached out to turn on the tap once more. Zarek’s voice was low as he braced his hands on the counter and leaned against it, large body spread wide as he gave a sound of frustration. “Fucking hell, Scar. Can we please not do this right now? I’ve had the second-worst of my entire life, and right now, I need you. No sharp tongue, no barbs, no fucking fighting, okay? Goddamn it, Woman.”
At those words, the last of her reserves snapped, and she slammed the dishwasher door closed in earnest this time. “Oh, you didn’t just say that. I know I did not just hear you call me ‘woman’. You are such a fucking dumbass.”
“You can call me a dumbass, but I can’t call you a woman?” He was frowning at her now, confusion and anger etched into his forehead.
Without thinking, Scarlett reached out to poke him right in the little divet between his eyes as she repeated the words, enunciating them slowly as if he were a particularly slow toddler. “Dumb. Ass.” Watching his eyes cross as he tried to see her finger as she pushed at his forehead and repeated herself was almost funny if she weren’t so angry. “Dumbass. Dumbass. Dumbass.”
“Get your damn finger off my forehead.” He growled the words, rising to his full height over her as if that had ever intimidated her a day in her life and took a step toward her.
Scarlett responded in the only way she could think of and pulled her phone from her pocket, unlocking it and silently pulling up her contacts.
“What are you doing?” Zarek narrowed his eyes at her, confusion drawing his brow down once more as she found the number she wanted and hit the call button.
She put it on speakerphone just as the soft, lyrical accented voice from home came on the line. “Hello?”
Zarek’s eyes widened in stunned disbelief as Scarlett met his eyes and injected a saccharine smile into her voice. “Hi! Sylvia. It’s Scarlett. I just thought you might want to know that your son just called me “woman”. I thought maybe he could use a refresher lesson from you on how to respectfully speak to someone who just dropped everything and came eight hundred miles to help him out when she had absolutely no reason to.”
“You did not seriously just call my mother.” He hissed the words at her as he stared at her, his face twisted in disbelieving rage.
“I’m sorry. He said, what? Zarek? You dumbass, what did you do? I know you can hear me, Zarek Alexander McCall! Answer me!” Sylvia’s voice came through the line, reproachful and sharp. Zarek was silent, eyes falling to the phone in mute horror.
A moment later, she saw something akin to grudging admiration rising to Zarek’s face. It was unexpected and immediately replaced by a darkening, angry expression as he accepted the phone. “Hi, Mom.” He intoned the words in a growl as he took it off the speaker and held it to his ear, listening. His eyes narrowed, silently promising payback as Scarlett gifted him with her sweetest smile.
He never took his gaze off her as he answered his mother in monosyllabic capitulation, as he’d done the first time she’d ever told on him. And every time after that. For all the massive wall of six foot five of intimidating man that he was, it was satisfying to see him growling and trying to cut in to tell his side of it, only to fall silent. “But she-, No. Yes, but- Mom! No. Sorry. No, ma’am.” It was that ma’am that told her that Sylvia McCall had done in less than two minutes what she’d been unable to do in their entire argument. “Yes, ma’am. Fine. I love you too. Yes ma’am. Okay. Bye.” Zarek was cowed and beaten as only a mother could do.
The satisfaction was darker and sweeter than she expected as he lowered the phone and placed it on the counter. He was silent as he simply glared at her. “I’m sorry.” The words were all but spat at her sullenly as he gave a snarl of discontent and turned around to head for the stairs. “You can have my bed. I’ll take the couch in the playroom. Goodnight.”
Despite the anger and the pain that gathered into a tight ball in the pit of her belly, Scarlett couldn’t deny the thread of satisfaction at watching him retreat down the stairs to spend the night on the couch in his own house because his mother had made him. For all the woman’s meddling, she genuinely loved Sylvia even more in moments like this. “Thank you, Sylvia.” She murmured as she reached for her phone to send the woman a text saying the same thing.
*
Zarek wasn’t sure how long he laid awake on the couch before he finally fell asleep. Scarlett hadn’t spoken to him since he’d tersely pushed open the door to his bedroom and dropped the overnight bag he’d retrieved from the foyer on the floor beside his dresser. He’d retreated to the couch that was, as all couches were, too narrow and too short.
Sc
arlett had closed the door the second he was through it, but when he’d heard the soft click of the lock engaging, he’d stopped, glancing over his shoulder. As she’d turned on the shower, he’d gone to the linen closet for a set of sheets and one of the spare pillows.
Somehow, he’d managed to fall asleep. He wasn’t sure what woke him, but the clock on his phone where he’d plugged it in on the coffee table told him it was after just after three am. He listened for any sound that was out of the ordinary. What he heard was Evie whimpering quietly, and then a soft, feminine voice speaking in soothing tones.
He pushed himself up and rose to his feet, striding across the playroom toward where his daughter’s door stood open. The nightlight was the only illumination. Had he been so exhausted, he had slept right through Evie waking up and crying? He realized a moment later that the baby monitor was probably still in its usual spot on the charging base he kept on his nightstand. Shit. The baby had woken Scarlett, and he’d been so tired he hadn’t even heard.
He came to stand outside the door, pausing at the sight of Scarlett standing in the middle of the room, Evie in her arms. His daughter was wrapped in a blanket, tucked securely in the crook of her elbow, her hands wrapped in Evie’s grasp.
Zarek watched from the darkness of the hallway, eyes narrowing as he heard Scarlett’s voice coming softly. “Ah. Those little hands are so cold. Your Daddy left the window open. I wouldn’t be able to sleep either.” He watched as Scarlett bowed her head, blowing gently across the tiny hands she held as she began to sway lightly. She released Evie’s hands as the last of the whimpers faded away, and Evie tucked her head into the curve of Scarlett’s neck.
Evie’s tiny voice was contented, a sleepy tone she used only on the rare occasions when she woke at night. “Da.”
Scarlett lowered her head, brushing a kiss over the top of his daughter’s head. “I know you want your daddy. He’s had a really bad day though, Cricket. Let’s let him sleep, okay?” There was another little whimper, and then his daughter heaved a sleepy sigh and popped her thumb into her mouth. Scarlett stroked a hand slowly down her back. “That’s it. That’s so much better, isn’t it? Warm and cozy and ready to sleep.”
Zarek’s heart began to beat faster at the sight of the woman who had once been his best friend comforting his child. The reality of that moment hit him like a ton of bricks. He knew now, exactly what he’d suspected for years. The rightness of what he saw stole his breath. The right woman, holding his child with nothing short of absolute tenderness and care. There was the generous spirit he’d fallen in love with, still there when she thought he wasn’t looking. There was no way in hell he was losing her a second time.
Zarek watched as Scarlett slowed her swaying and moved toward the crib. She draped the blanket over the side and gently lowered Evie down. Zarek could hear the tiny snore even from the doorway.
He knew the moment Scarlett registered him standing there, leaning against the doorframe watching her. Her bearing instantly shifted, her little body tensing as she drew closer and stepped out of the room, closing the door behind her. Her voice was low as she turned for his bedroom once more. “Sorry. I was trying not to wake you up. I know you have to be worn out.”
Zarek pushed himself upright, his eyes flicking to the crib for a moment as he fought for words. Scarlett surprised him by turning around to face him once more, standing in the middle of the hallway. Her eyes betrayed just how tired she was. She’d always been like this when her defenses were down. Vulnerable and sweet, and hiding nothing. Without conscious thought, Zarek stepped closer to her.
“Listen. About earlier, I was out of line.” The apology came out of nowhere, and Zarek frowned at her unexpected declaration. She continued hesitantly. “You didn’t deserve for me to speak to you like I did. I lashed out, and I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”
“No. I did deserve it. I deserve that and more. I just… I can’t do it right now.” He kept his voice down, closing the distance between them in a single step, absurdly pleased when she didn’t pull away. He folded his arms over his chest and drew in a slow breath. “I would love to fight with you, Scar. Because if we argue and fight, then that means you believe there’s still something worth fighting for.”
He watched as her eyes rose to his face and then lowered to his chest, refusing to maintain eye contact. Her hesitation was so clear it pained him to see her struggling to find words. He wanted to snap at her, to shake her, to do something to draw out some of that fire that he had seen earlier.
Zarek tightened his jaw for a moment and then tried again. “I have to go to the coroner’s office tomorrow to sign the release forms to send the body back to her parents. And then I have to go to the funeral home to arrange transportation. I’d rather not take Evie with me to either of those places.”
Zarek watched as her brow furrowed, and she drew in a breath. “Are you asking me to stay longer to help you with the kid?” He knew from the tone that she was avoiding using Evie’s name to keep some semblance of distance.
Zarek wanted to shatter that distance. He suddenly had the burning urge to obliterate that reserve. He wanted to rip it apart, and so at that moment, he struck just as ruthlessly as she had earlier, with a low blow that was at once intended as a wake-up call and a message. “She has a name. Her name is Evelyn Scarlett McCall. Use it.”
The instant the name registered, he saw it in her face. Full lips parted, and she inhaled sharply, her eyes flying to his face, wide in surprise. “What?”
“Call her by her name. She’s not ‘the kid’.” Zarek’s voice gentled as he lifted a hand and scratched as his jaw beneath his beard. “She’s my daughter, and she has a name.”
“You… her middle… Tatiana let you do that?” Scarlett’s voice held a note of disbelief. “Why would you do that?”
Zarek bowed his head, regarding her seriously. “I didn’t give Tatiana a choice. I named my daughter after you because I wanted Evie to be like you. Kind and genuine. So call her by her name. Okay?”
“Okay.” He knew the moment he won when she drew in a breath and released it in a sigh. “You’re not fighting fair.”
“Now you’re concerned about the rules of engagement? I never fight fair when it comes to the people I care about, Scar. And that includes you, whether you want to believe it or not.”
When she didn’t draw back, he stepped closer. As he did, he could see the sheen of tears in her eyes. “Stay with me until this is over. After it’s over, after the funeral and the madness is over, if you can look me in the eye and tell me with absolute certainty that you don’t want me in your life, I’ll disappear.” He gave in, at last, to the urge to touch her, his fingers barely brushing her cheek before he heard her voice coming softly.
Scarlett’s voice was hard and angry as she lifted a hand to bat his away a second before he could make real contact. “Don’t touch me.” Zarek dropped his hand, and she continued a second later. “I’ll stick around until after the funeral to help with the ki-” She stopped herself and then spoke more slowly. “To help you with Evie. But after that, I’m going to hold you to your word. No more having your mother call me every day to tell me about your life. No more having her send me pictures of the baby. No more of any of it. Promise me.”
His mother had been calling her? His mother had been sending her pictures of his daughter? That was news to him. He arched a brow and then nodded. “Okay. I promise.”
“Okay.” And with that, she turned for his bedroom once more. This time though, he didn’t hear the lock click after the door shut. It was a tiny thing, the smallest thing. And that one little thing made him smile as he turned to cram himself back on the sofa once more.
Chapter Six
Scarlett stared out the car window at the traffic on the interstate while in the driver’s seat, Zarek sat stonily silent.
She’d barely seen him the entire day. He’d let her sleep until nearly nine before he’d woken her to let her know that he was leaving to go to the morgu
e. She hadn’t seen him again until after two that afternoon when he’d returned to the house, looking even more tired than he had the night before.
He’d quietly entered the playroom and taken a seat on the floor with her and Evie, smiling to the little girl who was doing her best to talk back to the episode of Paw Patrol that was playing on the TV. Scarlett hadn’t been able to understand more than half a dozen words the little girl knew, but when the kid talked, Evie was damn sure of what she was saying.
Zarek had informed her softly that he’d arranged a flight to Las Vegas that night. Scarlett had nodded slightly, before realizing that he expected her to go with him and Evie. She’d opened her mouth to object, but the sight of the apprehension on his tired face had been enough to make her stop. She’d shooed him off to bed, and the surprise reflected on his face unexpectedly made her heart tighten. It was hours before she realized that was the moment she’d allowed herself to open back up to him.
When he’d emerged from his bedroom three hours later, he’d looked a little better, but no less somber. It was as though the reality of dealing with his wife’s death had taken its toll emotionally. Whatever he was thinking about, he didn’t talk about it. In fact, he’d barely said ten words to her as he’d driven them to the airport, and they’d made their way through security.
Even as they descended into Las Vegas and deplaned from the private plane he’d chartered, he still didn’t speak, save to politely answer the woman at the car rental desk when he’d handed over his credit card.
Scarlett had no right to know what was on his mind, and yet the curiosity ate at her. Of course, he wasn’t okay. His wife was dead. And even if they’d been in the midst of a contentious divorce, Tatiana had been the mother of his child, and he’d loved her once. Maybe he still did.
That thought made Scarlett sit up a little straighter, the words slipping from her lips before she could stop herself. “Do you remember how we used to play War? When we were in high school?”
