“Oh yeah?”
Nellie’s brow draws tight as her eyes flit around like she’s trying to figure something out. “Uh… yes.” Her lips pull into a tight smile. “I think… I don’t really know why I said that.”
“Have you been to southern Florida?”
She looks up at my reflection. “I… I’m not sure. Have you?”
“No. Maybe we can go on a road trip sometime. What do you think?”
Nellie nods slowly, her smile working its way to one of genuine excitement.
“Nel?” Harold bangs on the bedroom door several times before he lets himself inside. He does an immediate double take.
“What do you think?” Nellie stands. Her confidence brightening the whole room.
Harold gives me a hard look. “Ms. Stone, a word in private please.”
I throw back my shoulders and start toward the door, refusing to let the Moore men shame me for being kind to Nellie.
“You can have your words right here, Harold.” Nellie walks past me. “I’m going down for coffee and breakfast. See you soon, Scarlet.”
Harold shuts the door behind her.
“You look utterly ridiculous and I can safely say that because I know you have an expensive wool tailored suit and silk tie waiting for you at work or at the brothel where you get your rocks off.”
“Watch it,” he warns. His beady eyes attempt to intimidate me. “Nel likes you. That’s great. It means I don’t have to spend as much time here, but I can’t—Iwon’thave you trying to change her. She’s sick. She needs routine and familiarity to keep from…” He blows out a breath and clenches his teeth for few seconds.
“Remembering.”
He takes a step toward me.
I go into humming bird mode. “You don’t want her to remember what happened.”
Another step.
I hold my own.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about or who you’re messing with.”
“She’s going to remember, it’s only a—” All the air leaves my lungs as my face slams against the wall and my arm twistsaround my back to the point that tears sting my eyes. I squeeze them shut.
“I won’t warn you again,” Harold grits through his teeth, holding me to the wall.
The pain in my arm subsides and two seconds later the door to the room opens and clicks shut again. I open my eyes, slowly peeling my face from the wall. There’s a red streak on the emerald wallpaper. I touch my fingers to the corner of my eyebrow. Blood. I’m not scared. I’m angry. Even now, I have no self-preservation.
After the blood clots, I clean the small blood streak on the wall and go down to the dining room. Nellie glances up, taking a sip from her teacup fit for a queen.
“Scarlet! What happened to your head?”
Before I can answer, Harold walks out of the kitchen holding a briefcase and wearing a firm look of don’t-fuck-with-me.
“I took the corner at the top of the stairs a little too sharp. Wasn’t watching where I was going. I’m fine.”
With his eyes on me, Harold bends down and kisses Nellie on the top of her head. “Have a good day, sweetheart.”
I swallow back my vomit, disguising my utter disgust with a smile as fake as the erections I’m sure he gets in the form of a pill.
Cancer. You’re still battling cancer. My voice of reason knows I need to calm down and let this go. The Moores’ business is not mine. But every cell in my body wants to bring the Moore men to their knees for what they’re doing to Nellie.
