I came here with the intentions of taking everything from him, and instead he took the one thing I thought I lost years ago: my heart. He taught me how to love, not just other people but myself. Leaving him will hurt, but having everything he’s worked for fall apart will hurt worse.
And if he lost his job…nope. I can’t even think about it. He has worked so hard to build a life for himself and Jackson. I won’t let anyone take that away.
37
Weston
“What about this one?” I ask Jackson, picking up a pink teapot with little purple flowers painted along the base.
Jackson shakes his head. “Scarlet isn’t really a girly girl, Dad.”
“Good point. It’s too pink for her. Too bad I didn’t think of this around Halloween.” I push the cart forward, browsing the shelves of a home decor store. We needed to go grocery shopping, and Scarlet said she wasn’t feeling well. Telling her to stay home and rest, Jackson and I set out.
Something is off with her, and I’m sure it has to do with Daisy showing back up. I don’t want Scarlet to think that old feelings came back the moment I saw my wife. It did the opposite, and if there was any good that came out of this, it’s knowing that I can look at Daisy and feel absolutely nothing.
Scarlet is the only one I want.
“That one!” Jackson leans out of the cart and narrowly avoids knocking a glass candle holder off the shelf. “It has a skull on it.”
Smiling, I carefully move things out of the way and find what has to be leftover Halloween-themed dishes. This teapot is pink too, but instead of flowers, it’s decorated with skulls.
“It’s perfect. Good eye, buddy.”
Since Scarlet heats up her water for tea either in a saucepan or in the microwave, I get a kettle as well. We check out, go to the grocery store, and pick up Chinese takeout on the way home.
Jackson says he’s tired, which is music to my ears. Maybe after lunch, we can all take a nap. And by that, I mean Jackson nap in his room and I take Scarlet into the bedroom. I think about it the whole way home, missing her already even though Jackson and I have only been gone for a few hours.
“Can I give Scarlet her tea set now?” Jackson asks when I get him out of the car. I look up and down the street, making sure Daisy isn’t lurking about before I let go of his hand to reach inside and grab the bag.
“Soon. Let’s get the groceries unloaded and eat lunch before we do.” Keeping a tight hold of Jackson’s hand, I take him inside. The house is still and quiet, making me think Scarlet is upstairs sleeping. “Stay right here on the couch,” I tell Jackson, giving him my phone to watch YouTube. He doesn’t get to watch it that often, so his butt will be glued to the couch as long as the phone is in his hands.
Hurrying back to the car, I bring the bags of groceries up to the porch, setting them all in front of the front door. I lock the Jeep once the last bag is out, and rush to the house. Jackson hasn’t moved, and I grab the three bags with the cold stuff to put away first.
I get the first bag completely put away before I notice the note on the counter. Setting the milk down, I grab it.
Wes-
I’m so sorry. I love you and Jackson more than you’ll ever know. I didn’t want to do this, but I have no choice. This is for the best.
Love always,
Scarlet
I blink, not understanding what I’m reading. Shaking my head, I refuse to understand it. The note floats to the floor and I rush upstairs. Scarlet’s room is empty. There are no clothes in the closet. The bathroom counter is free from her neatly cluttered makeup.
I exhale, feeling dizzy, and sink down onto her bed. What the fuck is happening? Why did she leave? And I still don’t understand her note. She didn’t want to do this? Then why did she?
Pain hits me hard in the center of my chest, spreading throughout my whole body. Is this what it feels like to have your heart break all at once? I dig my fingers into the mattress, fighting against everything inside of me not to feel.
“Dad?” Jackson calls from downstairs. I’m not sure how long I’ve been sitting there, zoning out, flashing between grief and anger. My foot has fallen asleep, and I can hardly move it.
“Yeah?” I call back, voice coming out weak.
“Someone is on the porch.”
Inhaling, I push up, shaking my foot to get some feeling back to it. “Don’t move. I’m coming down.”
Blinking a few times, I realize my eyes are watery, and only get worse when I see Jackson. He put the phone down and carefully got out the tea set, arranging it on the coffee table. What the hell am I supposed to tell him? I don’t even know what’s going on.
My heart leaps in my chest, thinking maybe it’s Scarlet at the door.
“Jackson, go up to your room,” I say as soon as I see Daisy.
“Why?”
“Now,” I say, and my tone scares him enough to grab the phone and run.
“Shut the door.”
“Is it a bad guy?” he asks, looking down the stairs.
“Kind of,” I say, knowing I shouldn’t tell him that his mother is bad, but I need him to stay out of sight. Once his door closes, I throw back the front door.
“What the fuck do you want?” I bark.
“Nice to see you too, Wes. Can I come in?”
“No.” I grab my coat that I left hanging on the banister, and step outside. “What the fuck do you want?” I repeat.
“I came here to talk.” Her brows push together, and she looks confused. “Didn’t Scarlet tell you that we should—”
I rush forward. “Scarlet?” It’s making sense now. “What the fuck did you do?”
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit.” I’m raging, wanting to turn around and put my fist through the windows on the front door. “Goddammit, Daisy,” I say too loudly. There are people walking their dog down the street in front of our house, but I don’t fucking care right now.
Daisy showed up and Scarlet left. It has to be why. Scarlet wouldn’t just leave.
Trying to recover, Daisy puts a hand on her hip, ready to come at me with some ridiculous blow, just like she did back when we lived together. “Well, if she didn’t tell you that then I’m guessing she didn’t tell you how she took this job thinking she could con you.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Yep. That little snake. I knew she wouldn’t confess.”
“Confess what? You’re not making any sense.”
“Your girlfriend, the woman you left alone with our son, is a con artist.”
“No, she’s not.” I shake my head and point to the street. “Get off my porch, Daisy. You’re sounding crazier and crazier by the minute.”
“It’s true.”
“And how the hell would you know?”
“A friend got arrested and spent time at Cook County with someone named Heather Cooper. Ring a bell?”
I blink. Scarlet does have a sister in prison.
Daisy’s lips curve into a smile. “I take your silence as a yes. Anyway, when I’ve been going to visit my friend—she shouldn’t have been arrested, but that’s not the point—and of course I noticed the bombshell blonde coming in. Everyone noticed her. I mean, how can you not?”
Daisy inches forward. “I didn’t pay her much attention after that, until I heard her mention Eastwood. You know how it is when you hear something familiar. Turns out, she has quite the reputation with the inmates. You see, her sister thought bragging about her would earn her cred or something. Boy, the stories I could tell you. But back to you, Wes. Your darling Scarlet thought some rich couple was hiring her. And then she showed up at your place. There was one thing I couldn’t figure out, but now that I know Quinn and Archer have a baby, it’s them.”
There’s no way Daisy would know Quinn and Archer are actually the ones who hired Scarlet instead of me unless she really did overhear Scarlet talking. But everything else she’s saying isn’t true. It can’t be.
“I know you won’t believe me, so
I got the name of the last couple she was a nanny for. Turns out, she seduced a married man and forced him to buy her expensive clothes and handbags in order for her not to tell his wife.”
“You’re making that up.”
She digs a folded piece of paper from her purse. “Call him. Ask about Scarlet.”
Could it be true? Did Scarlet take the job thinking she’d con money out of me? But then why’d she stay? I love her…and I know she loves me.
“What did you say to her?” I ask, rounding on Daisy, whose smile disappears. I don’t know what she thought would happen. I’d take her in my arms and up to bed and we’d wake up like everything was fine?
“I didn’t say anything.”
“Then why did she leave?”
“She left?” Daisy acts shocked. “Wow, can’t say I’m surprised. Better make sure nothing valuable is missing.” Her face softens. “I miss us. And now that Scarlet is gone, we should try again.”
“You did something to make her leave, didn’t you?” I shake my head. “Did you think you’d come here with bad news and I’d welcome you home?”
“No, but I…I…” She squeezes her eyes shut.
“Let’s just say everything you said was true. It wouldn’t change things between us. You left me alone with an infant. And then you showed up again only to do the same thing. I’m not stupid, Daisy.”
“I know, Wes, I know you’re not.”
“And now you’re here again, telling me these things only to hurt me.”
“Wes, no. You need to know the truth about her. I’d never hurt you.”
“Really?” I question and her face crumbles. “It’s always been about you, Daisy. You need to leave.”
“Wes, please.”
“No. Get. Off. My. Porch.” I open my clenched fists and go inside, slamming the door shut behind me harder than I meant to. It rattles the whole house and probably scared Jackson. I lock the deadbolt behind me and stride forward to go upstairs and check on Jackson.
And then I realize the boxes of valuable family heirlooms aren’t in the living room anymore.
38
Weston
I can’t move. Not yet, not while my mind is going a million miles an hour. Scarlet wouldn’t steal them. She’s not a bad person. She’s not a con artist or a thief. She’s Scarlet, a quirky girl from Chicago who likes paranormal romance, drinking tea, and looking at the stars.
She’s the woman I love.
But the boxes…I shake my head and move through the small foyer, going to the other side of the house. The boxes came from the basement, and maybe she put them back. I run down the stairs, getting hit with cool, musty air, and pull the string light at the bottom of the stairs. The basement is cold and damp most of the time, typical of older houses in this area. We use it for storage, and the washer and dryer are down here too. I go around the stairs to the storage section, and see the boxes neatly put away. I pull one out and open it. Everything is inside.
And now I’m feeling bad for even doubting her. I put my head in my hands and let out a breath. What the hell am I doing?
“Daddy?” Jackson’s voice echoes through the house. Shaking myself, I go upstairs and find Jackson in the kitchen.
“Can we eat now? I’m hungry.”
“Of course.” Having forgotten about our food, I heat it up. Jackson only wants an egg roll anyway and asks for a piece of toast with peanut butter on it instead.
“Is Scarlet still sleeping?” he asks. “Can I bring food up to her?”
I never lied to him about his mother, and I don’t want to lie to him about Scarlet either. But—fuck—what do I say?
“She had to go visit her sister,” I blurt the first thing that comes to mind.
“When will she be back?”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “I’m not sure.”
I put the groceries away while Jackson eats. I should be hungry, but my appetite is gone. I can’t get Daisy’s words out of my head. I don’t know what to believe, and the best thing is to ask Scarlet. I call her and get her voicemail.
“Scarlet, it’s Wes…call me. Please.”
I put my phone down and pace around the kitchen, feeling more and more anxious as the minutes tick by. It’s like history is repeating itself and I’m damned to live through this again and again.
To be left over and over.
But this time, it’s different. This time, I’m in love with the woman who left me. This time, there was no small relief in knowing she was gone, that our constant arguing was finally over. Daisy and I should have separated long before she left. I wouldn’t change a thing that would take Jackson away, but if things came about differently…if we at least talked about the issue we ignored and hoped would go away things might have been a lot better for all of us.
Which is why I’m not going to sit back and hope things fix themselves. Not this time around.
I push open the door to Getaway, and bright sunlight spills into the dimly lit bar. Logan’s car is parked out front.
“Oh, hey, Wes,” Danielle, one of the other bartenders says, looking up from behind the bar. It’s Saturday, but the bar doesn’t open for another few hours, but one of my twin brothers is always here getting things ready for the night.
“Is Logan here?” I set Jackson down and look around for him.
Danielle shakes her head. “No, we had an issue with our hard liquor delivery, so he ran to Newport to pick it up himself.”
“Oh, bad timing on a Saturday.”
“You’re telling me. Owen is here, though. He’s in the office. Want me to get him?”
“Yeah, thanks, Danielle.”
She gives me a smile, looking a little concerned. I’ve never come in here during the day like this, so it’s obvious something is up. Danielle disappears into the office behind the bar to get Owen. I was hoping to talk to Logan because he’s a good voice of reason, but maybe Owen’s the better one to give advice on this situation. We’re the least alike, and hearing what he’d do could do me some good.
“Hey,” he says, hurrying over. “What’s going on?”
“You got a minute?”
“Of course.” He looks at Jackson. “Is everything okay?”
“I’m not sure.”
Danielle comes around the bar. “Hey, Jackson, want to play pool with me?”
“Thanks,” I tell her, and she takes Jackson’s hand, leading him across the bar to the pool table.
“You’re freaking me out,” Owen says, going to the bar. He grabs a bottle of top-shelf whiskey and pours us each a shot. I take mine and sip it.
“Scarlet left.”
“What do you mean, she left?”
I finish the shot, feeling like I need another. “Daisy showed up at the house today.”
“Oh, shit.”
“Yeah. And she wouldn’t admit it, but I think she said something to Scarlet and that’s why she left.” I pinch the bridge of my nose and Owen fills the shot glass again. “But that’s not all…Daisy told me Scarlet is a con artist and only took the job because she thought she was working for a rich couple—Quinn and Archer—and wanted to con money out of them.”
Owen blinks. Once. Twice. “The fuck? Daisy’s crazy. How would she even know that?”
“Supposedly, she has a friend who’s at the same prison that Scarlet’s sister is at and overheard them talking.”
“Scarlet has a sister in prison?”
“Yeah, she does. I knew that already though.”
“Does she look like Scarlet? Is she single? You know I love bad girls.”
For once, I’m thankful for Owen’s smartass attitude. It makes me shake my head but smile. “I’ve never seen her.”
Owen takes his shot and then slides the second one he poured for me over. “Tell me everything.”
I take another look at Jackson, making sure he can’t hear. He’s distracted with Danielle, thankfully. Taking a deep breath, I tell Owen everything.
“I need a minute to process,” he s
ays, reaching around for more whiskey. “Do you think she’s a con artist?”
“I don’t want to, but I…I don’t know.”
“Okay.” Owen nods, thinking. “Say everything is true. She took the job thinking she’d con some rich couple out of money. But she didn’t. She stayed with you and Jackson and did her job. Really well.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “Right?”
“She was great.”
“You dog.”
“Shut up,” I say flatly. “She was a great nanny and did the job she was hired to do.”
“Isn’t that all that matters?”
I shake my head, unsure.
“Hey, Danielle?” Owen calls. “I have a moral question for you.”
“Uh, sure?” Danielle looks up from the pool table.
“Two guys walk into the bar—”
“Are you forgetting little ears are present?” Danielle puts a hand on her hip and stares at Owen.
“It’s not a dirty joke,” he deadpans. “Two guys walk into the bar, both with the intent to rob the place at gunpoint. The first guy doesn’t go through with it, even though he walked in the doors with the intention of doing it. The second guy does rob the place.”
“Okay…what’s the moral question?”
“Who’s worse? Or are they both as bad since they both intended on doing the same thing?”
“The guy who actually robbed the place is worse. Though I suppose you’d need to know why the other guy didn’t go through with the robbery. If it was for self-preservation, like he knew he couldn’t get away so he decided to wait until another night when the bar was less crowded or something, then I suppose he’s still as bad as the second guy. But if he didn’t rob the place because he had a change of heart, then he’s not as bad.”
“Does that help?” Owen asks.
“I think so.” I rub my forehead, feeling a migraine coming on. “What would you do if you were me?”
The smirk fades and Owen unscrews the lid to the whiskey. “I wouldn’t let her be the one that got away.”
“You’d go after her.”
“I’d run after her.” He refills our shot glasses. “If she was going to con you, she would have. And once she realized you weren’t who she thought she was going to work for, she would have left and moved onto another couple to con. But she stayed because she had a change of heart.”
Dawson Family Boxset (Books 1-3) Page 74
