He left, slamming the door behind him. I locked myself in as soon as the gap had been closed. I kept the gun beside me in case he had any intentions of coming back. Doubtful, but the world was turning out to be a much wilder place than I had anticipated.
Sliding back into bed, all of the weight in the world bearing down on my chest, I reached out in the darkness to find comfort, but I might as well have been reaching for some mythical place that had no name, no place on the map to find and return home to.
I cried and cried and cried. I sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. And I worked myself into a fit and wailed and wailed and wailed.
Chapter Thirty-One
Scarlett
There's nothing sadder than a candle floating in water. And that's what I have become. Snuffed out and water logged, my internal flame too saturated to ever really burn again.
Scarlett Poésy.
“Promise me, Violet. Promise me that you’ll come and get me. No one else.”
“Why does your voice sound like that, Scarlett?”
I turned my head to the side and coughed. “No reason. Just come and get me.”
“Where are you?”
“Abilene, Texas.”
“Is he there with you? Ace?”
“No, he’s gone.”
“Hmm…he just left? Just like that?”
“Violet…”
“All right…but how have you been paying to live?”
“I’ll see you in a bit, Violet.”
I gave her the address and hung up.
* * *
Three hours later, the rattling of the door had me reaching for the gun. I was never a gunslinger, but visiting the cabins with my father’s side of the family had its perks. Grandmother Poésy had been a better shot than both my grandfather and father combined. I could use one if necessary.
I tiptoed to the window and peeked out behind the thin curtain.
I didn’t see anyone, so I tucked the gun behind my pants to conceal it. Cracking the door, just to look out, he ambushed me.
He blew through, knocking me out of the way, going straight for the bathroom. He flipped on the light, searching behind the mildewed curtain. Then he opened the small closet, reaching his hand to the other side. When that yielded no results, he centered himself in the middle of the room, looking left and right.
Cords stood out in his neck, as well as some of the veins in his arms. Perhaps it was a trick of the imagination, but I could’ve sworn I heard the racing of his heart running parallel with the frantic pulse in his neck. Though his face was as calm as still water.
The most frightening aspect of all of this was that as he tore through the room, he did so with the movements of a man just checking the hotel room to make sure we hadn't left anything behind.
Under the surface...my blood hummed like an angry hive of bees, feeding off his pent-up rage.
His eyes had come to a sudden halt on the messy bed. Flinging himself on the floor, as though he was about to do pushups, he used his elbows to keep his face from touching. He reached under, finding Ace’s forgotten boxer briefs.
He held them up. “Where the fuck is he.” Again, it was never a question with him. If he wanted an answer, he demanded it.
“Gone,” I croaked. I pushed the slipping Ray-Brans up on my nose. “Long gone.”
