by Meghyn King
She glided up the wooden staircase and headed in the direction of the bathroom, but between her and the door at the end of the hallway, was another door—a very familiar white door that made her pause. Beautiful patterns were carved into the varnished wood, and the letters of her name were painted on the front of it. The room had been hers since she was born, and as she aged, the appearance of its interior changed with her… except for the door itself, which had stayed the same from the very beginning. Her dad had always made sure the paint was touched up, her name remaining bright and clear. Even now, she could see that her dad had recently traced her name with bright blue paint.
A smile curved on her lips before she could stop it.
Scarlett moved closer, her hand curled around the knob. It was cold against her palm, metal against skin, and she closed her eyes briefly. As much as she hated it, this was still home, and held good memories as well as bad.
Taking a deep breath, she twisted the knob and swung the door open, revealing her bedroom. As she’d suspected, her mom hadn’t changed it a bit. Soft hues of white and blue filled the room, from the fluorescent aqua walls, to the slightly darker curtains that hid white double hung windows. In the corner was her white bookshelf filled with young-adult romance books, and beside it sat an armchair the same color as her curtains. Her double bed had a white frame with aqua trimmings, and a powder blue frill traced the bottom of it, hiding the floor beneath. She had been obsessed with light blue and white as a teenager, and it was obvious in the bright bedroom.
Scarlett shifted into the room and headed toward the armchair. She rested in it for a moment, staring at the bed. That’s where it happened, the moment she knew she had to leave. It had broken her heart, to think that she might have finally been accepted, only to be proven wrong. And it was all Sofia’s fault.
She dropped her head back and sighed. She’d bet her entire savings that not even Ethan knew what happened here. Because if he did, he’d understand why Scarlett couldn’t forgive his sister.
“Scarlett?”
She glanced toward the doorway, where her mother hovered worriedly. A look of concern lingered over her face as she took two steps into the room.
“Is everything okay, darling?”
Scarlett swallowed, glancing toward that dreaded bed. How many times had she cried herself to sleep after what happened. And her mother had no idea. She didn’t know about the worst of it, and that was one of Scarlett’s biggest regrets. She should have told her parents earlier, but she hadn’t wanted them to rain a bigger hellfire down on the school. She hadn’t wanted to be even more of an outcast than she already had been.
“I was bullied worse than you know, Momma. A lot worse.”
Her mom stepped closer but stayed silent.
Scarlett wondered how much her mom would understand. When she was in high school, Mara Prescott nee Hanover was a high school cheerleader, who ended up marrying the football star. Scarlett’s parents had it all when they were teenagers—money and popularity.
“It killed me. I couldn’t take it.”
Her mother’s nostrils flared. “I knew it.” She hurried closer and kneeled beside the chair, her hands clasping at Scarlett’s. “Sweetpea, why didn’t you tell me how bad it was?”
“How could I?” She shook her head, pursing her lips. She hadn’t cried about it since she left Ponchatoula, and she wasn’t about to start again now she was back. “You were popular in high school. You were a cheerleader. What would you understand?”
Scarlett grimaced as soon the words left her mouth. She didn’t mean for them to come out as harshly as they had.
Her mother ran a comforting hand over her scarlet curls. “I would have destroyed them for you. By the time I was done, they would never have said a word to you.”
She snorted. “Clearly you don’t know much about school bullies.”
“Scarlett….” Her mother gripped her chin and guided her daughter’s gaze toward her own. “Talk to me. What did they do to you?”
Scarlett swallowed. The memories felt as fresh as they were when she’d left Ponchatoula. “What didn’t they do?”
Her mother’s hazel eyes grew teary, and Scarlett hated that she was making her mom cry. “Who was it?”
She laughed. “It’s a little too late, Momma.”
“It’s never too late,” her mother hissed. “I’ll make them regret so much as saying your name.”
“They never said my name. I was The Fat Tomato or Miss Piggy.”
“What?” Her mother’s eyes lit up with pure fury. “Who was it, Scarlett?”
She cupped her mother’s face, caressing her soft cheeks. “Mom, I’m not telling you this to make you angry. I don’t want you to avenge me. I want to make you understand why I hate this room.”
Her eyes widened. “Did something happen in here?” Her gaze flew around the room. “Did someone hurt you, baby girl?”
Scarlett glanced at the bed and shook her head. Now wasn’t the right time. She didn’t know if there ever would be a right time for her mom, at least not to hear the full story.
“No, nothing.” She rose from the chair and held out her hands to her mom, who took them and stood. Scarlett tugged her into a hug and buried her face into her mom’s familiar shoulder. She smelled of lavender, and Scarlett breathed it in and sighed. She always loved her mom’s smell. It was one of the homeliest things about Ponchatoula.
“Darling, you can tell me anything.” Hands clasped at Scarlett’s back, dragging her closer. “Anything.”
“I know, Momma. I know.” Scarlett swallowed around the lump that formed in her throat. Her breath was trapped in her chest and she had to force it through her nose. It almost hurt.
“Tell me who they were.”
She squeezed her mom’s arms as she tugged away, which was hard because she was being held in a tight grip. “Maybe one day.”
Her mom stared at her, her gaze fierce. “Whoever they are, Scar, they were wrong. Anything they said was wrong, darling. Look at you now. You’re successful, smart, and brave. You could have the world if you wanted it.”
Scarlett grinned. “Of course I could, Momma. I’m Scarlett Prescott, daughter of Mara Prescott.”
Her mom sent her a watery smile. “Yes, you are.”
“Come on, don’t cry. We don’t want to give Lois something else to gossip about.”
She wiped at her tears and chuckled. “God, no. She’d twist it to suit her agenda.”
‘“That horrible Scarlett woman made her mother cry. Cruel girl’,” Scarlett mimicked in Lois’s nasally voice.
Her mom laughed harder. “Yes, let’s not give her that chance. Come on, your dinner is getting cold.”
“I still need to use the bathroom.”
After hours of hearing the latest gossip about people Scarlett barely remembered, she was ready to rip her hair out. But she smiled through Lois’s chatter and nodded whenever the older woman asked a question that she may or may not have heard. Jeremy looked amused by the whole thing, his dark eyebrows rising.
By the time Lois and Mara got up to check something in the kitchen, Scarlett wanted to bang her head on the table, but she sent Jeremy a strained smile instead.
“I’m sorry about her. I suppose she gets bored at home,” he said.
You don’t say was on the tip of her tongue, but she smiled politely. “I’d go crazy if I was home all day by myself. Must be hard with her kids all grown up.”
Jeremy shrugged. “Dad suggested she get a job. I thought she’d have a heart attack.”
Scarlett snorted and slammed a hand over her mouth.
He snickered. “You can laugh. I did.”
“I’d like to keep my head where it is. With the way your mother glares, I’m surprised I haven’t burst into flames.”
“Mom’s old school. Women should be at home, cooking for their husbands, while the men should be providing for their family.”
“I can tell. I thought she’d have a brain aneurism when I to
ld her what I did for a living.”
“She just hates women smarter than her.”
The compliment slipped so easily from his mouth, and his smile was soft, but Scarlett felt uncomfortable under the attention. Jeremy was charming, and it was obvious that he was used to the girls swooning by the way he stared at her through soulful eyes, but she’d been around enough men to know when they weren’t being genuine. And there was something about Jeremy that prickled her skin.
“Don’t tell her that,” she finally said, continuing with the joke.
He reached out, his hand clasping the one she had resting on the table. “It’ll be our little secret.”
Scarlett’s eyebrows rose. “Is this where you flirt, and I swoon, and you get me into your bed?”
Shock flittered over Jeremy’s face, a frown creasing his forehead.
She laughed, patting his hand. “Jeremy, you’re sweet. Charming, even, but you’re not my type.”
His mouth opened, then clicked closed, and he tugged his hand away as Lois and Mara strode back into the room.
“Time to go, Jeremy.” Lois clucked her tongue at Scarlett, her face scrunched in unpleasantness. “It was lovely to see you again, Scarlett.”
Scarlett smiled at the fakeness of Lois’s tone. “And the same to you, Lois.”
Jeremy’s lips were pursed, and he stood, his chair scraping against the floor. He looked anywhere but at Scarlett, and she felt bad for him. She hadn’t meant to kick his ego, and she supposed with good looks like his, he wasn’t used to it. She sent him a smile but wasn’t sure if he saw it or not.
As soon as they left, Scarlett sighed. “Were you two spying on us again?”
Her mom giggled. “Lois was not impressed that you rejected Jeremy.”
“Mom. That poor boy was mortified.”
“Boy? He’s hardly a boy, Scarlett. He’s twenty-three.”
“Exactly. He’s a baby. I wish you wouldn’t have spied on us.”
Her mom shrugged. “It wasn’t my idea, darling. Lois was adamant that you two were perfect together and needed time alone. How do you think I felt? She kept insisting that you need to quit your job and be a wife.”
Scarlett made a noise of disgust. “Well, this was a disaster.”
“I don’t know. I quite enjoyed tonight.” Her mother’s grin made her snort with laughter, and before long they were both giggling like mad women. Scarlett needed to hold on to the wall to keep herself upright. “Come on, darling, there’s still a bottle of wine we didn’t open tonight. Let’s drink it.”
“God, yes. Let’s get drunk.”
Scarlett groaned into the pillow her face was pressed into. An insistent throb pounded at her head, and she cursed her mother and that bottle of wine. And the other two they’d had after that. They really shouldn’t have drunk so much.
She opened her eyes, blinking at the harsh light in the room. It was much too bright, and she slammed them closed again. “Close the curtains,” she mumbled. To whom, she didn’t know. She didn’t think there was anyone in the room.
A mumbled agreement sounded from the ground beside her.
“Mom?” Scarlett didn’t dare open her eyes again.
She received another mumbled agreement as answer.
“How much did we drink?”
“Too much,” her mom muttered.
“I agree. Too much.” The familiar deep voice made Scarlett groan. Her dad’s amused tone was not what she wanted to hear at that time of day, not with the hangover that was pounding at her head. It felt like someone had put a wooden spoon into her brain and was beating at it until it scrambled.
“Go away, Dad.”
Her dad laughed. “Last night went that well?”
Her mom mumbled something unintelligible, but apparently her father understood.
“You rejected her favorite son? Ouch.” He snorted.
Scarlett managed to pry her eyes open and glared at her dad. He sat on the opposite sofa, looking far too bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for so early in the morning. His leg was crossed over his knee, and he wore a pair of faded jeans, heavy boots, and a plain T-shirt, the kind of clothes he wore when he did work around the backyard. He smirked, head cocked, and nodded toward the ground.
Scarlett glanced at the body next to the sofa she was laid on. Her mom was curled in a wad of blankets, eyes screwed shut, and mouth parted in a half snore. A line of dried dribble painted the side of her mouth, and she snorted in soft gasps. It wasn’t often that her mom got drunk, but when she did, it was always amusing to see.
“Why are you sleeping on the floor, Momma?” Scarlett poked her.
Her mom mumbled something and buried herself farther into the blankets.
Her dad sniggered and rose, drawing closer. “Mara, it’s half past ten. Didn’t you have chores to do today?”
Scarlett sent her father a wide-eyed glance. “It’s half past ten?”
“Yeah. What time did you think it was?”
She glanced around until she found her phone. It was near her mom’s head, and all she needed to do was reach over and…. She landed on her mom, and they both let out grunts of pain.
“Sorry, Momma. Are you okay?”
Her dad roared with laughter, holding his stomach as he doubled over.
If Scarlett had the energy, she would have glared at him, but she was too busy trying to untangle herself from the blankets that now imprisoned her feet. It took her a couple of minutes to get unraveled, and then another couple for her mom to shove her off.
“Jesus above! What are you doing, Scarlett Rose?” her mom growled from beneath the layers.
“I was trying to get my phone.”
“You didn’t have to fall on me.”
“I’m sorry.”
Her dad shook his head. “Why haven’t I learned how to use a camera? I could have recorded this. Shiloh would love to see it.”
Scarlett groaned. She’d forgotten all about her sister, and the last thing she wanted, or needed, was for Shiloh to find out about this. But she knew that no matter how much she threatened her dad, he would still tell her sister. He’d revel in it.
She grabbed her phone and clicked the button to activate the screen. Yep. Half past ten. What time was she supposed to meet Shiloh? Eleven. Shit!
Scarlett pushed herself off the floor, stumbling for a moment, and pointed a finger of warning at her dad’s amused face. He held up his hands in surrender, but that didn’t stop her from narrowing her eyes at him.
“Not another word. And only Shiloh finds out about this, all right?”
Her dad shrugged, the mischievous grin far too joyful for her liking. She was already calculating the people he was going to tell.
She glanced back at her mom’s blanket pile. “Are you at least going to be a gentleman and help her?”
“Yeah, I am a Southern gentleman,” he teased.
“Ugh.” Scarlett waved a hand at him and forced herself to go get ready for the day.
The streets of Ponchatoula were busy, but she expected no less. It was a Saturday morning and families filled the sidewalks and diners in the town center. She didn’t recognize many people, but there were a few familiar faces who gave her a look of recognition or a wave as she strolled past them.
As she neared the Coffee Corner, she heard raised voices and frowned. It wasn’t often there was commotion in the town, especially on a weekend, mostly because it was small. As she got closer, she came across the group of people circling whatever was happening, and because she really was a nosy small-town girl, Scarlett shouldered her way through the crowd.
The first thing she noticed on the other side of the wall of people, was the beautiful perfection that was Ethan Antonelli, once again looking fine in his very snug cop uniform. He stood tall, hands on hips, as he faced off with three men. It took her a moment before she recognized Jeremy as one of them. He stood in front of Ethan, arms crossed over his chest, an indignant smile on his face.
“I haven’t done anything wron
g, Ethan.”
“That’s Officer Antonelli to you,” Ethan snapped. He didn’t look impressed. His body looked tight, all controlled muscle, and Scarlett couldn’t help but run her gaze down its length. Since coming back to town, she’d only seen the soft side of him, and this was a whole new experience for her, because while he was clearly annoyed, he also displayed a huge amount of restraint. There was something downright sexy in the way he held himself—his muscles straining in the tight black uniform, bunching and clenching as he stared down Jeremy—and Scarlett couldn’t help but lick her lips. She could already imagine the strength of those muscles, and wondered how much control he’d have to use if he held her down and had his way with her.
Jeremy shot Ethan a condescending smirk. “Come on, Ethan. Don’t be like that.”
Scarlett’s gaze narrowed on Jeremy. He was trying to push Ethan’s buttons and she didn’t like that. She had thought he was a nice guy, charming, but all she saw now was smarminess.
“I reckon you need to stand down, Jeremy.” A female officer stepped to Ethan’s side. It was the first time Scarlett had noticed her and she didn’t recognize her face. Probably a newbie in town, at least since she’d left for New York.
“What did I do wrong, Ashleigh?” Jeremy shrugged. “I was just having a chat with my buddies.” The three men behind Jeremy chuckled. “There’s nothing illegal about having a chat.”
Scarlett noticed Ethan’s jaw tightening.
“Unless….” Jeremy cocked his head and took a step closer. He poked Ethan in the chest. “Unless I was talking about your girl? Is that redhead slut your girl, Ethan?”
Ethan moved so quickly that it took a moment for Scarlett to comprehend what was happening. One minute, Jeremy was standing in front of Ethan, the next his chest was pressed against the hood of the police car, his arms behind his back. Jeremy squawked in agony, a horrible sound that made her grimace.
“Lemme go! This is police brutality. Ashleigh, do you see this? Someone record it.”
The female officer groaned, and straightened her bodycam so it pointed directly at the two men. “No can do, Jeremy. You assaulted an officer.”
